Author's note: I swear guys, some boy love is coming soon! As soon as I started writing it, it was like coming back to an old friend, since I wrote slash way back in the day. Except it was of the BTVS variety for my fellow Whedon fans, if you guys still exist here. Thank you for continuing to read. I appreciate all of the follows and favorites and reads. I love you like a fat kid loves cake. Or like a fallen angel loves an emotionally disturbed hunter ;)

After the exorcism performed on his body by bourbon and a hot shower, Dean came out feeling slightly more human than he had in weeks.

He sauntered into the hotel room from the bathroom, clad in pajamas that he never wore, and saw Cas propped up on some pillows on his bed, reading one of Bobby's books for the millionth time. By his side was a notebook scrawled with Enochian symbols. Dean recognized it as a summoning spell for Angels. If Castiel was planning on it, it'd be the fourth time he'd try to summon angels. It hadn't worked the first three times. Dean was about to say something, but didn't want to kill the moment they'd had during his performance in the bathroom.

"We need to get out of this town, dude." He announced.

Cas looked up from the book. "I agree." He said. "We've been here for far too long. This place is horrible too. I'd almost rather be back in Heaven with Raphael."

"Let's take off tomorrow. Let's drive until we're out of this state. Park somewhere and find a case. I need a bloody hunt." Dean said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Castiel frowned. "Am I a hunter now?" He asked. He looked confused, as if he hadn't thought about what or who he was since he got back.

"Well, you got any other better ideas? I say we hunt, behead a few vamps, gank a few demons, and figure out what the hell to do next. I can't just keep dwelling. That's the one thing I've gotten from this." He said.

"Maybe I could get a job." Cas said thoughtfully. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to work a human job."

"Seriously, dude? A messenger of God wants to flip burgers? No. Fuck that. I say we stick to what we're good at. And what we're good at is killing things." Dean said, shaking his head.

"I would like to start helping people again, that is, if I'm stuck on this plane in this body." Cas said. "Maybe I could be a hunter."

"Screw people. I just need to hunt. It's all I know. You and me, we could be like me and Sammy, saving the world over and over again for their ungrateful asses. We could do it, man. There is always a hunt. There are always things that need killing." He said.

"I am not sure if I could be like Sam." Cas said gently. "And Dean… I think it's a bit soon to be getting… bloody. And Dean… wouldn't you like to know something else besides death and blood?"

"It's all I know, Cas. It's all I've known my whole life." He said.

Cas sighed and put down the book. He came over to the bed and sat next to Dean. Cas really had a thing about invading his personal space.

"Your neck." He said softly, running his fingers over the fan shaped bruises he'd left on Dean's throat during our altercation. "I did that, didn't I? I apologize, Dean. I was very angry. I forget that I'm… stronger than most. I don't feel like it anymore."

Dean shuddered and scooted away. Cas was a little too close. He was in the bubble and it made him feel uncomfortable. Unsurprisingly, the angel the angel scooted right to his side, personal space be damned. He put his fingers on Dean's neck where the bruises were, intending to heal them.

Nothing happened.

"What?" He whispered.

Castiel pressed his fingers a little harder into Dean's neck, and then moved them to his face. Dean felt the worry in the angel's touch as he ran his fingers over his face, pressing down harder. Nothing was happening. Dean didn't even feel the rush of warmth, cleanliness and light that he usually felt when Cas worked his angel mojo.

"No, no, no." He whispered. Then a little louder. "No, no, no. This can't be. This absolutely cannot be."

"Cas, man, it's okay. They don't hurt. It's fine. Don't worry about it." Dean said, trying to calm him down. "Look man, it's fine. See, I'm okay? Cool it, Cas."

"I'm drained." He cried, his voice breaking. "Dean, I've fallen, don't you see? I am nothing. Everything I could do… I can't do it anymore. I am nothing."

He stood up, trench coat whooshing, and put his hands on his face. Dean heard him muttering in a strange language that was either Latin or Enochian or both. He paced back and forth around the room, with his face covered, his voice getting gradually louder and harsher. Dean realized that he was summoning, except he hadn't set up a circle, or anything. He was just chanting into the wind.

Dean stood up and went over to the beleaguered angel. They couldn't both have mental breakdowns tonight, or else they'd never get out of this town. He grabbed Cas by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. He rarely hugged dudes, but it seemed like the right thing to do right then.

"Cas." He murmured, "Cas, buddy, come back to me. Remember? We're getting out of here tomorrow. We're moving on, and you can get a job at McDonalds if you want. Remember all those cheeseburgers? We can get one. We can do whatever you want. Come on back to me. Don't worry about it right now."

Cas shuddered underneath his embrace. "All I was, I am no more." He whispered. "Dean… I don't know what I am."

Dean pulled him in close. He didn't know what Cas was either, but he had his thoughts. It seemed like Cas was becoming human.

After an hour or so of coddling Cas, hugging him and telling him fantasy stories about the great things they'd do, the "angel" or whatever he was, finally calmed down and sat back down.

"I'm exhausted." Cas muttered. "I have never been exhausted. Even when I was at my weakest, I never needed sleep. I don't think I know how to sleep."

"What have you been doing those two or three hours every night I've been sleeping?" Dean asked. It was an honest question. Cas couldn't teleport, he was a terrible night driver, and he had no desire for food or drink. Or so he thought. He always wondered what Cas did when he wasn't around.

"Researching. Reading. Praying. Last night I walked around town for awhile. I recently started reading 'Julius Caesar' since he always fascinated me." Cas admitted.

Dean nodded. "Well… good for you. Do you feel like you could sleep? Do you need sleep?"

"I might. I think I might be tired." He said.

"Well, then let's sleep. God knows I need it. Then tomorrow, we're out of here." Dean said.

"How do you sleep? How do you remain unconscious for several hours at a time by sheer force of will?" Cas asked.

Dean almost rolled his eyes, but then he remembered that Cas had never slept. The concept was probably absurd to him. The way that he had phrased it, Dean suddenly was aware of how strange the idea of sleeping was when you thought about it in literal terms.

"You… close your eyes and just let it come to you, I guess. I don't know. I've always had trouble sleeping. I think it has something to do with knowing that the monster in your closet is real." Dean said.

"Perhaps I will try it." Cas said.

Dean nodded and got under the covers of his bed, acutely aware of how rumpled the sheets were and of how they smelled vaguely of mildew. He couldn't wait to get out of here.

He sighed and rolled over on his side, his normal sleeping position.

"Why do you sleep like that?" Cas asked, right into his ear. Cas was in bed next to him. "Is that what you find most comfortable? Doesn't your arm go numb because of your human blood flow? I know it tends to become constricted, if you will."

"Cas! Man, you don't sleep in bed with other dudes! I'm all for you sleeping, but not next to me!" Dean cried rolling over on his back.

Castiel was perched next to him, looking straight down at his face. He looked slightly confused, but not embarrassed like Dean was. Dean took a closer look at his face. Cas did look exhausted. The rings around his eyes were now a deep purple, as if he had been punched repeatedly. He really did need sleep.

"I don't see why it matters. Sleeping is the most non-sexual act I can think of right now." Cas said. "Besides… I think if I was able to observe you sleeping, instead of simply watching over you from afar like I usually do, it might help me to achieve a dream state myself."

Cas was talking about him like he was a science experiment. Dean found it exasperating, but also slightly amusing. And Cas was right… sleeping was non-sexual. There were a few times when he and Sammy had slept in the same bed when faced with no money or tight quarters, and it had happened even as adults. Cas was basically his family, just like Sammy had been. What harm could it do?

"Okay… but this is the first and last time. It's creepy, man. You sound like that dude in that vampire book written by the Mormon nun, or whatever." Dean muttered.

"I don't understand that reference." Castiel said plainly.

Cas settled in next to him, reading "Julius Caesar" in the the room's weak light. He felt the bed shift a little as Cas got comfortable, but Dean felt oddly calm having the angel sitting next to him. He didn't realize how nice it was to have someone so close, even if it was an asexual angel who was falling from Heaven. It took awhile, but Dean finally fell asleep.

That night, just like he did every night, Dean dreamed of Sam and Bobby. He dreamed of the day they had defeated Lucifer. He saw the anger in Sam's eyes while Lucifer wore his skin, he saw Sam's eyes as he escaped from the archangel's hold and chose Hell over the end of the world, and he watched as Sammy leapt into the hole in the ground that was now his cage. He saw Sam killing Bobby, watching Bobby's neck twist around, the light leaving his surrogate father's eyes. He saw the determined face of Cas, newly human, facing down Satan himself. He felt the fire of Hell licking his skin, he felt the pain of the souls he tortured and he heard Alastair's wicked laugh, encouraging him to spill more blood. Dean woke up in a cold sweat, chest pounding, just like he did every night.

This is why he had trouble sleeping.

Dean lay there in the dark, muttering his nightly affirmations to himself. It's not real, it's not real, you will get Sammy out, Bobby is in Heaven with Ellen and he's happy. Cas is right here. You're okay. You're okay. You will be okay.

"Dean?" A sleepy voice murmured.

Dean jumped a little, then he remembered that Cas was in the bed next to him. He had completely forgotten, thanks to the night terrors. Dean blinked. To his surprise, Cas appeared to have just woken up. He was fully dressed, trench coat and all, but even in the dark, he could tell Cas had actually been sleeping.

"Sorry, Cas." He muttered. "Go back to sleep. I mean, this is the first time you've slept, like ever, and I don't want to interrupt."

"The nightmares again?" Cas murmured. He rolled over onto his side, so he was facing Dean.

"Yeah." Dean mumbled.

"Come here." Cas murmured, motioning at him. "You need sleep, Dean and I know humans sleep better when someone has given them comfort. You were right about one thing tonight, we need to get out of here, and of us needs to be cogent enough to drive tomorrow. I can assure you that will not be me."

"Cas… no." He whispered. "I can't. I just.. can't."

"Dean, quit. Just quit. Come over here. I promise the world won't end because you let someone with male genitalia touch you." He said. He sounded annoyed. He was annoyed because he had just woken up, which was just surreal to Dean.

Dean groaned inwardly. He rolled over on his side and scooted over to Cas. He felt the rustling of the trench coat as Cas settled in next to him and very hesitantly, very noninvasively put his arm around him.

"Cas, at least take off the damn trench coat. Seriously, that thing is noisy." He whispered.

Cas muttered something obscene under his breath and took off the trench coat.