A/N: I'm so sorry about how long this has taken to get out. So I was in Scotland for a week, then had my sisters around for a week. Then I got my GCSE results and *yay* I did really well so I can enrol for this really good sixth form but I got in last minute so I have six books to read, five essays to write and a whole bunch of preparations all to be done by Monday so yeah, this is rushed. Also applied to work in a bookshop, fingers crossed! Hopefully will have chapters for my other fics out shortly as well! Thank you for all the wonderful feedback it helps amazingly!

Castiel didn't have the energy to do anything. He sat in the smouldering remains of the Winchester's kitchen and his bones rattled at the mere attempt to breathe. Everything ached and his burns felt more prominent now that the adrenaline had long since died away and he was left in the harsh sting of his injuries. Dean would be devastated when he saw this. That was all his mind could conjure.

He prayed over and over that Sam was okay, that he hadn't been badly hurt in the fire but the sickening pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He was just so tired. The hours slipped away and he stayed sank against the blackened cabinets which, after cooling rapidly, now sat freezing and crumbling, wrapping a chill around his grace. It grew dark and his heart clenched because Dean wasn't here. He was on his own some place, worrying, angry, or worse.

What if Dean was grieving?

The thought made him retch but he had nothing in his stomach to throw up. He absently noted that his injuries weren't healing; he could even still feel the mark on his face from Zachariah's blow earlier. He knew it was down to his massive grace use after everything with Dean, his grace still hadn't recovered and now he couldn't even heal himself. The thing was he didn't care. He didn't care if it worsened. He didn't have the tolerance to waste a thought on himself. It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.

His phone rang and he didn't even blink. His mind seemed to be like a static radio, unable to focus, directionless and loud and buzzing and irritating and wrong.

The ringing stopped and he fought with his better judgement and brought himself back to reality, hissing as the harsh pain re-established its existence. His hand shook slightly as it moved to his pocket and took out his phone. The screen flashed at him, demanding his attention and he glared down into it. The name he read made him slowly rest his head against the cabinet with a slow and silent sob that racked his ribs with sorrow. His exhaustion wasn't only physical.

He couldn't handle it anymore. There was no space in him that didn't want Dean. No particle against him. No atom protesting him. His whole being yearned for him more and more the longer they were separated. It was inexplicable and horribly painful. He grit his teeth, lifting the heavy phone to his unwilling ear, forcing himself to hear the message play.

Dean's voice was thin, tired, cracked in something more than fatigue. He slowly asked, pleaded with Castiel for something, he didn't specify what. He didn't have to. Keeping his muscles clenched he wrenched his rickety body from the ground, biting back the noise of pain that threatened to erupt. He needed to be stronger than this, for Dean. He needed to show him that he could be a force of good if Dean let him. He heard the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that his grace was probably not allowing itself to heal properly because he was so whole heartedly mourning the loss of Dean from his system but he dismissed it. He couldn't let himself believe that he could have Dean, it wasn't fair.

He couldn't fly; it was out of the question. Walking got easier as he went but it still hurt. The further he went, the more he realised that the majority of the pain wasn't coming from his body as much as from the very pit of his being. It felt even more than his grace. His soul. Did he even have a soul? Did any angel? He growled, he'd never had the patience for such existential questions.

His crippled grace was weighing him down but that didn't mean he couldn't feel the burns and bruises but luckily he seemed to have a pain threshold that was at least something to be proud of. Would Dean be proud of such a thing, as a hunter? He shook his head furiously as he turned a street corner on the way to the hospital. He needed to stop tormenting himself with questions like that. So Dean was ready for him to be around in the lowest point, that didn't mean anything, that meant he was the very lowest of the low. He meant nothing to Dean anymore. Get it into your head, Castiel. He was used to being shunned but this was something entirely more painful. Rejection after acceptance, apparently, was immeasurably more painful than never being accepted in the first place because you have a taste for what you've lost.

It took an hour to get to the hospital and he had to creep in, half shrouding himself as full invisibility was too much. His grace swelled at the scent and tangible aura of Dean's soul that Castiel had grown so accustomed to feeling but the swell only increased his pain and he clutched at his chest and walked down the dark hallways. It was so quiet and serene Castiel could've mistaken it for a coma ward. He faltered in his step as he reassessed this thought and then sped up in his search for Dean.

His lungs seemed to be the first to see Dean as they seized up before Castiel had even registered who was hunched over on a chair, alone in the dark. He stopped walking for a second as his grace reached, trying to escape Castiel's chest and go to Dean.

He was on a chair, head in his hands, unmoving. For several minutes Castiel just stood there, unable to move. Maybe Dean was asleep? Should he even have come? Dean may have just had a moment of weakness, madness on the phone, he could get angry again, threaten to kill him again, or just follow through on the threat… No. He had to believe Dean didn't mean that. He had to. Suddenly Dean was on his feet, still not noticing Castiel as he stared at the wall opposite him.

His jaw was set and Castiel could see his square shoulders, he was tensed to the point he was shaking and Castiel was frozen as he watched Dean's glare to the wall.

There was no real warning before Dean was slamming his fist into the wall, over and over, burying his hand into it. Castiel was at his side before he could think. He and Dean both must've been in the same mind set because neither was thinking as they would normally. It was all primal and instinct. It seemed less painful, easier. He pulled at Dean's shoulders, his heart clenching at each shuddering thump. There was no extra sound and Dean didn't respond to Castiel's touch.

Castiel, having supernatural strength ordinarily, was shocked at how strong Dean truly was. He didn't even flinch at Castiel's tugs. Dean's punches got quicker and his breath was ragged and yet no sound of pain or even anger was released, just breaths. It was gut wrenching.

"Dean!" Castiel cried out. Dean's breath stumbled as he choked on it and his fist slowed and stopped as it fell to his side, remaining tensed. When Dean turned to face him Castiel thought he was going to be sick.

Dean's hair was messy from endless pulling and ripping at it. His clothes were rumpled and disorderly. He had bags under his eyes and his face was a sickly porcelain in the moonlit corridor. But what were really jilting were his eyes. They were glazed, tears and something more, something terrifying and incorporeal. Something that told Castiel that Dean wasn't really here, he was somewhere else. He'd slipped into some stupor and knowing Dean he'd been sat stewing in his own guilt for some time. How long had he been sat on his own in this hallway? Dean stared at him, unblinking, not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes as Castiel caught his own horrified reflection within them.

He'd never seen Dean like this, lost. Unreachable in his own mind. His usual warmth, presence, missing. His grace was raging a war against his ribcage prison, desperate to give Dean some form of comfort. Pull him back from his internal cliff. His breath was light and unsteady as he made himself focus.

He gently took Dean's wrist pulling it up. Dean's fist remained tense as he stared, motionless and Castiel put his hand on top of it, slowly. He felt like crying, like screaming but refrained. Dean needed him now. He delicately pulled at Dean's fingers.

"Come back to me, Dean." He croaked and he saw Dean's mouth open slightly and the gulp that jolted through him. Castiel's heart was racing now as he took in Dean's blank expression, he was panicking, desperately frightened that Dean was too far gone in some grief or guilt. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Dean's, meeting his stare.

"Come back to me now." He muttered and Dean's eyes slid closed and he let out a long shaky breath. His hand uncurled in Castiel's and without thinking Castiel entwined their fingers. For a second he was worried but Dean instantly visibly relaxed and leaned into him. It was only then that Castiel's grace sighed inside of him, releasing him from his painful trial. His heart was still on a race track but Dean was breathing properly now and that was what was most important.

"Cas?" Dean's voice made an almost audible crack sliver through Castiel's heart and he held onto Dean's hand with everything he had. He sounded scared and panicked and alone and it all made Castiel want to pull him in his arms and never let him go, never have anything hurt him ever again but Dean wasn't his. He didn't deserve Dean but Dean deserved someone to pull him from his inner cliff face and if that was all Castiel could get, so be it.

"I'm here, Dean. I'm here. It's me, it's Cas." He spoke softly, words of reassurance and he felt Dean's shoulders shaking as he tried everything to keep it all in.

"Cas, I can't- He's-.. Cas, he's-" Dean's throat betrayed him and he bit down on his tongue.

"Sam's alright. He's fine, Dean. Everything is going to be fine. He's not alone, and neither are you, I'm here, I'm right here." He didn't know that, all he knew was Dean would be even more wrecked if his brother wasn't at least stable and it didn't take a genius to figure out where his own brother was. He just wanted to put Dean at ease by any means necessary.

"It's my fault." Castiel flinched at these words. How could Dean possibly blame himself for this, but then he remembered, it was Dean. He'd blame himself if Sam turned into a serial killer because Sam was his responsibility and, of course, he loved him.

"Dean, please look at me." He said, his voice polite but firm and the other boy's eyes slowly cracked open again in their green familiarity and Castiel smiled at the safety they projected.

"This is not your fault."

"But-"

"No. It's not your fault, it's not Sam's, the fire was an accident. No one could've predicted it. Gabriel got him out and I saved as much of the house as I could. I'm sorry I couldn't do more but no one is at fault here, Dean."

Dean seemed to really look at him, like he used to, and all at once Castiel felt incredibly small. But it was the kind of small he liked, the kind of small that told him Dean was scrutinising him like he deserved his attention, like he was fascinating. Like he was valued. Suddenly the space between them wasn't really much space at all. They could feel the pull of the other's breath and it was so inviting and familiar. Castiel's inner argument continued but it was increasingly fading into the background when faced with Dean looking at him like he was the sky and the stars to his world. It was so entrancing; Dean always had that effect on him. That irresistible pull.

"I'm sorry, Cas. About.. everything." He was a breath away now and everything, time, slowed around them as Dean opened himself up to Castiel and nothing could break them apart.

"I'm sorry too,"

Dean closed the distance. Bringing his hand to Cas' jaw he pulled his lips around Cas' and enjoyed the much missed drag of them against his own. He held onto Cas' hand fiercely and his hand moved to the back of his neck as he pulled their bodies together and kissed with an intensity that made Castiel dizzy. He lost his hand in Dean's hair and held onto Dean like everything he had, everything in his world, would shatter if he let this moment end, this perfect moment in a dark corridor in the moonlight of a tragedy. This moment was pivotal to everything. Forgiveness, endurance, survival. Both had their individual struggles but right here, right now Dean was kissing him and he was safe and he could pretend.

The kiss slowed and deepened further, Dean's hand was stroking Castiel's cheekbone gently as he kissed him like he would break and it was so tender and wonderful and Castiel's grace collapsed in relief. Their bodies pressed together he could practically feel Dean's soul greeting his grace and all felt right in the world again.

Of course, that moment couldn't last forever, even being immortalised in Castiel's memory. They broke apart and Dean seemed to come back to his senses. His brow creased as he brought both hands to cup Cas' face.

"Where were you? What- what happened? You weren't at school, you didn't call, you didn't answer the door. I was-" Dean hesitated as he took in the purplish bruise on the side of Castiel's face. He frowned more now as his fingers ghosted over the mark and Castiel still winced a little.

"Did… you get this in the fire?" He asked slowly, eyes searching for any hint of a tell that Cas was lying as he responded.

"I- yes, I mean, it was, yeah." He cleared his throat nonchalantly and looked away. Dean got the wrong idea and interpreted his awkwardness as him being uncomfortable with their current proximity and backed off immediately. He should never have kissed him. What had he been thinking? Then again that as just it, he hadn't been. Castiel almost reached to regain the warmth of Dean's arms but pulled back. Second guessing everything. He was always on his toes with Dean, always confusing his feelings and doubting everything. He'd been right before, he'd lost that connection with Dean and the prominent silence that held afterwards was testament to that. After a minute Dean spoke again.

"What the hell's going on, Cas?"

"..My Uncle's in town."

A/N: Okay I hope this was alright, I'll do a real plot development-y one next chapter but I just wanted some content and I needed a little character bonding time so here it is. Please let me know what you think if you have time by typing out a quick review, it is immensely helpful and I'll love you forever! Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading! Belle.