Primary World: Part 6

"I'm looking back again, tracing back the threads."

Sam looked up at the clock, watching the seconds hand tick, slowly flicking its way around in an endless circle. What a useless little thing, it seemed, to count the seconds that made up a moment in his life. And when laying down the events that would tell his story, what would those seconds matter? Would he ever tell anyone about them? Probably not. Who says 'And I watched the clock for a few minutes' as a stepping-stone in their life's story? It didn't make sense and it didn't matter.

In fact he didn't know why he was contemplating this, all he really knew was that it was three in the morning and he was awake again. This was the third night in a row he couldn't shut his brain up. Other worlds, timelines, fate of the universe? It sounded so crazy and yet Castiel believed it with every fibre of his being, he was a man dedicated to 'the faith', whatever that was. A high priest of sorts that fought monsters and saved people and knew things that he'd never dreamed of; and here he was, sleeping in their house. Dean was still on the couch; Sam was wondering if it was a waste now considering Dean was probably actually sleeping while Sam couldn't get himself to that state.

Castiel had been with them now for three days, almost four. He'd been fairly hermit-esque in his behaviours, shutting himself away in Dean's room, avoiding them at any cost. He looked at them differently, like he knew them in some way. Really, the way he spoke to them wasn't how Sam would expect a stranger to act. Most people were somewhat polite and trying to earn their keep for the first little bit until the welcome was worn out. Castiel jumped over those little hurdles and went straight for the unwanted guest that has possibly overstayed his welcome and is on the verge of being kicked out. He wasn't particularly rude to Sam; he made a point of avoiding eye contact and trying to evade him in general. But Dean? Castiel, and Sam would swear his life on this, hated Dean with some sort of passion. It was crazy.

And due to the priest's behaviour Sam just had so many questions. Castiel was cynical; what had he seen that made him this way? After being to so many different worlds and times, why was he bitter like that? Wasn't there some beauty out there? A magic that someone like himself could never know? And why did Castiel act like he knew them? Hell, how did he already know them? The stranger could nearly finish Dean's sentences for him, though never out loud. Dean would be pissed off about not being able to find something and somehow Castiel would either know instinctively, based on their personalities, where one of the Winchesters would put the item; or he knew what Dean was looking for without Dean ever having to say it out loud. Just that evening, in fact, Dean had been snooping through the cupboards for something, grumping to himself incoherently and never asking for help. Castiel had been watching from the dining table, slowly finishing his meal. He'd stood up, went to the bottom cupboards and handed Dean a bag of chips.

It had been astounding to Sam, but what really got him was the fact that they had about five different flavours down there and Castiel chose the exact one that had been hunting for. It was coincidence, it had to be. No one could know someone else that well. Unless Castiel could read minds, which was another question that Sam considered asking.

One of the biggest problems he had with all of this was the fact that these stupid questions only really came to him at this hour, waking him up and making him remain awake until the thoughts were done circulating. Sam considered buying sleeping aids but he wasn't one to enjoy pill dependency. Vitamins he'd take, sure, but he wasn't even that big a fan of Tylenol.

Sam stared at the ceiling now, listening to the sounds of the house. He was always surprised at how thin the walls were; if he tried hard enough he could hear just about anything in the dead of night. He closed his eyes, letting the wind outside distract him, the sound of technology running within the house somehow comforting, and he swore he could almost hear Dean snoring in the living room.

"Sam,"

The rough voice startled him, eyes snapping up to see Castiel peering at him from the doorway. "Cas? What're you doing up?"

Castiel remained nearly motionless, his head tilting slightly to the side the only movement that Sam could register.

"Cas?"

No answer from the priest. It was worrisome; in fact it was giving Sam a bad feeling.

"Castiel, maybe you should-" He froze when the stranger lifted his hand, a faint glow starting the middle of his palm. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"It's you." Castiel spoke emotionlessly, like a dead man, cold without feeling. "You're the monster now."

"I'm not." Sam shook his head, his heart starting to beat out of time and rhythm, "Please, wait Castiel!" Tears rushed to his eyes as he realized that Castiel wasn't going to stop, "No!" Sam threw his hands up in front of himself as the light from Castiel grew stronger, warmer, he could feel its presence in the room.

"Dean! DEAN!"

"SAMMY!" Dean's voice sounded like thunder, like it'd crashed into the room. Sam could feel strong hands on him, a solid arm braced beneath his shoulder blades and hauling him up. Up until his face connected with the soft cotton of Dean's undershirt. It wasn't until that moment that he realized he'd been dreaming, his mind completely shaken and his body following suit. Trembling hands fumbled to catch a firm hold of his brother somehow, but Dean seemed to have it under control. He squeezed Sam tightly, a strong reminder that he was safe, that Dean was there now.

Sam breathed heavily against his brother's chest, calming himself, or trying to. He shakily inhaled one more time before lifting his head, Dean was right there to smile down at him.

"You okay, Sammy?"

'Yes' was the first answer that came to his tongue, but he swallowed it. "Just… over thinking things, I guess." He laughed softly and lowered his head again, closing his eyes and listening to the slowly decelerating sound of Dean's heart. 'I must have scared him…' Sam thought despairingly.

Dean ran his hand down through Sam's hair a few times, wondering if he should read into the fact that his stubborn little brother actually went back to lie against him again. But he decided not to, Sam didn't need him poking and prodding at this. It was just a nightmare, Dean told himself this and Sam as well. "Just a bad dream, doesn't mean anything, okay?"

Sam nodded, appreciating the soothing tone of Dean's voice. It was nice and comforting, and for just a little while Sam felt like he was a kid again. His big brother was right there for him, like always. "Thanks, Dean."

"No problem, Sam." Dean smiled and stroked his hair a few more times before slowly letting Sam lay back down, "Get some sleep, alright?"

Another nod and a yawn to follow, Sam curled up and rolled over, nuzzling into his pillow like he liked to do. Dean scoffed quietly and strolled out of the room, back to his couch. He couldn't wait until Castiel would be on his merry way and finally get his damn bedroom back.

"You said I was a mess, or was that just in my head?"

"Dean, could you get some groceries?" Sam walked into the living room where Dean was casually lounging and watching TV, Castiel perched on the other side of the room by the window, staring out of it and watching the neighborhood. And while Sam was sure that Cas was just checking for signs of the monster, it still looked like a creepy hermit-man kind of behaviour. It'd been over a week now, he was healed up and wearing Sam's clothes because he only had one set while his jacket stitched itself.

Yes. It stitched itself apparently. Sam didn't believe it until he saw the thing slowly fusing itself back together, one stitch at a time. It was mind-boggling and the most proof that he had so far that Castiel was telling the truth. Regardless, Cas had a runner's body type, meaning he was fit but lithe, slender even. Sam wasn't terribly built either but was very tall and had broad shoulders. It honestly didn't make sense that Cas would wear his clothes and not Dean's, Dean was more his height and while Dean was more muscular, it'd still fit him better than drowning in what Sam had to offer. But Castiel refused, absolutely refused to wear Dean's clothing.

"You got a list?" Dean looked up, normally he'd fight this tooth and nail, but considering a few nights ago Sam had a serious night terror that left him shaken for the entire following day, he decided to not argue.

"Yeah, and uh…" Sam smiled sheepishly as he handed it over, "Take Cas with you."

Dean made a face, and looked over at Castiel who turned his head to reciprocate the glance. Cas held it for a long moment and shrugged, the collar of his shirt almost slipping over his shoulder as he got up from the windowpane.

It was kind of funny for Sam, neither of them uttered a single sound of protest, sure they each made their disgruntled lack of amusement known with facial expressions, but they didn't say it. Sam didn't know why they did this with him, well he knew why Dean didn't argue but Cas he hadn't a clue. Again, it was the sense that Castiel knew him somehow. Sam felt that weird little 'older brother' vibe coming from the priest, like Cas would protect him if need be.

At least he did in the last few days, that is. Once Cas became aware of Sam's nightmare, when he noticed how twitchy and a little frightened Sam was of him, Castiel had done little gestures of peace and kept an eye on his own behaviour. If Sam were worried, Cas would do everything he could not to be intimidating or scary in any way. Sam was a bit conscious of the fact that he was being treated like a traumatized five year old, but it kept the other two from fighting so he didn't object very much.

"Let's go, Cas." Dean grumbled as he folded Sam's list and put it in his pocket, ignoring Castiel somewhat as he walked out. Wearing clothes that were too big on him, shirt slipping off his shoulders. Dean was frustrated, he wouldn't admit it out loud but he was frustrated. This mysterious as fuck man shows up in town and sits on a statue, staring at him every day, makes eye contact every day, and all but gives Dean nightmares himself. Dean found that he couldn't go a single day without thinking about the guy, wondering at first if he was a murderer and slowly wondering if maybe he was just a homeless man, or if he was even there at all. Then he freaking disappears! Just like that, never got the chance to say hello, never managed to ask the man's name, nothing. Just poof, gone. Give that about 24 hours and suddenly the stranger is sleeping in his bed, eating his food, and refusing to wear his clothes or even give him a decent conversation. To top it all off, Dean still couldn't stop thinking about him. Castiel, angel of Thursday, but not a real angel, he just looked like one.

And Dean would kick himself for thinking that too but he couldn't help it, getting into the car he couldn't help but look over to watch the way Castiel leaned in and shift his body into the seat. While he started the engine Dean couldn't help but glance to see if Cas enjoyed the roar of the engine the way he did. And as the Impala started up and Castiel didn't think Dean could see him, Dean couldn't fucking help but notice the nostalgic pain that flittered across the other man's face. Who the hell was this guy and what was his deal?

"Alright," Dean started calmly, backing off the drive way and heading down the street to the nearest grocery store, "What's up with you?"

Castiel looked back at him, Dean forced himself not to look into those baby blue eyes, "You'll have to be more specific, Dean."

"Why do you hate me?" Dean was using his 'just give me an answer damn it' voice, it was usually just used on Sam when the twerp wouldn't tell him something he already knew.

Cas remained quiet for an extended amount of time before he looked out the window and Dean thought for sure the bastard was in the middle of ignoring him when he answered, "I don't hate you."

"Oh, you don't?" He could hear the sarcasm in his own voice but didn't stop it. "Then what the hell? You've been nothing but rude to me, you glare at me when I see you, you blatantly refuse to do certain things when I'm involved but if Sam asks you're cool with it. I get that part a little bit, the kid's got puppy eyes, but the way you do it is always a way to prove somehow that you want nothing to do with me. I don't care if you do hate me, I just want to know why."

Castiel held his pattern of silence first, looking out the window as his hands fidgeted on the hem of his shirt. Dean hadn't seen him fidget before, this was new, he was getting somewhere. "I said I don't hate you. And while there is a story behind my behaviour I don't wish to share it."

Dean was about to make a fuss when Cas turned toward him again, and he fell right into those eyes. "Did I do anything?"

"No, you didn't." Castiel sighed and leaned his head back, "You're right, Dean. I'm sorry, this has been unfair to you."

"Damn right it has."

"Let me…" Cas bit the inside of his cheek momentarily, watching the way Dean parked so seamlessly; he'd always been good with cars. "Let me start over." He turned Dean's way and extended his hand, "Castiel, it's nice to meet you."

"Dean Winchester," Dean smiled and took the priest's hand firmly. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Go right ahead."

"What's your last name? Do priests not get one?" The curious look in those green eyes caught Castiel off guard but the question was weighted enough to nearly knock him out of his seat.

"We keep the ones we had in our previous lives." He answered matter-of-factly, wanting to keep emotion out of it.

"So… you guys are reincarnated?"

"No, the normal lives we held before we became High Priests of the faith."

Dean nodded, not missing the fact that Cas was fighting him over this, but if it was a new start he wanted to know the guy's full name. "And yours was what? Does it have some meaning like your first name? Is it Thursday? That'd be kinda funny."

Castiel opened the door of the Impala and climbed out, "Winchester." He said softly before closing the door and walking toward the supermarket.

Dean sat motionless for a moment before shutting the car off and locking the doors, "Wait, Winchester? Really?"

"Yes." Castiel's pace was brisk and Dean found himself watching the shift of Cas' hips as he moved. "And I'd like you to drop it, please."

"Just one question, one more." Dean clapped his hands together in a sort of pleading gesture once he caught up to Cas, walking slightly ahead so the priest could see him. "Please?"

Castiel rolled his eyes but knew he couldn't really say no. "What is it?"

"Does that mean we're related?"

"In a way, I suppose… No." Castiel shook his head and pushed past Dean again, getting him out of his face. "You… are a different man. If you want to assume we're related then I'll go right back to treating you as I was."

Dean didn't need more of an explanation than that to get the hint, but he pushed anyway. No one said Winchesters were always smart. "So wait, you kind of know us, right? Was there another version of Sam and me in your world?" His eyes widened, connecting the dots, "Is that why you're so nice to Sam all the time and not me? Were you and Sam, you know… married or something?"

Castiel grabbed Dean's collar and slammed him into the nearest light post, lifting him from the ground as if it were simple. "I said drop it." He snarled as he did exactly that, dropping Dean back to the pavement and continuing on his way.

Dean rubbed his neck a little and exhaled slowly, he deserved that, and he knew it. As well, he couldn't shake the tingling feeling that was starting to spread through his body. "Cas," he called, he still hadn't moved.

The priest turned his head, jaw tightly clenched, eyes daring Dean to say something stupid. And while Dean really wanted to tell him how absurdly hot that was, he went with something else that he should have already said.

"I'm sorry."

"Forgiven. Now let's get the groceries and get out of here." Cas turned and continued, this time with Dean in tow.

"So help me decide, help me to make up… Make up my mind."

Shopping was all but done; Castiel was surprisingly efficient at it despite not knowing the store very well. As Dean watched Cas wandering down an aisle for the last item on their list he felt a sort of adoration for him. The little way he lips moved as he silently muttered the item's name to himself so he wouldn't forget, how he stopped in front of the lane to look up at the types of groceries he'd find there, shake his head and move on. Or when he did go down the aisle and quickly return with the supplies in hand, clutched close to his body so none of the other Saturday shoppers could snatch it away from him, just in case people fought over their food in this world or something.

Yes, Castiel was a little rough around the edges and definitely bitter over something that had happened, but Dean saw something cute in there. Beneath the scowls and threats there was a bright-eyed guy looking for approval like the rest of them.

The sound of his phone ringing snapped him away from his musings; Dean fished in his pocket for it and quickly answered. "Hello?"

"Hey man, it's Jet."

"Dude, what's up?" Dean would have sounded a little friendlier but Jet's tone was off-putting.

"Not much, but hey, where are you? I went to your place to visit and Sam's here by himself and uh… Well it's hard to explain."

"Sam? Is he okay? What happened?" The demanding tone was immediate, worry filling him as he suddenly became agitated at how long the lines were to pay for his groceries.

"Well he's pretty upset and he's not telling me what happened. The place is trashed, man. It looks like someone busted in and just went ape shit around here."

"Is Sam hurt?" Dean spat the words like they were the only things he cared about, demanding an answer without shouting 'answer me' at the end.

"Not much, his hands are pretty banged up though."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Could you watch him, please?" Dean anxiously looked around to see if any lines were moving faster or if someone had fewer items in their cart. As he looked he noticed Castiel waving him over from further along and hurried to the man's side.

"Can do, man. He wants to see you and said to ask Cas to stay outside for a bit when you get home. He's scared of something, I don't get it but I'm just giving you the message."

"Thanks so much, man. I'll be there soon." Dean hung up and ran a hand through his hair, "Crap…"

Castiel tilted his head curiously, eyes squinting just enough to add to the confusion in his face. "What happened?"

"Something's up at home, Sam wants to see me." He sighed and looked at Cas, unable to hide the concern.

And though no one said anything outright, Dean was terrified. Why did all of these things always have to happen to Sam?

"We should hurry back to him." Cas eyed the line suspiciously, trying to figure out a way to make this go faster. He came up with nothing and they reached the till in normal time, this didn't stop Castiel from making that face though; the 'I'll figure a way out of this' kind of expression. Dean would have laughed if not for being so caught up in what Jet had said.

They made it home in record time and as Dean leapt out of the car he pointed back to Cas and said as firmly as he could, "You stay here."

Castiel, shockingly to Dean, listened obediently and remained by the Impala. His better judgment told him to follow, hell, everything told him to follow. But that stupid little incessant voice in his head reminded him to stay. Dean asked him to stay. 'But he's not the same Dean, he's a completely different man. I don't have to listen.' But he knew better, he knew his mind had long made the connection and would refuse to let it go for anything.

Dean ran inside, closing the door behind him just in case Cas was curious. "Sam?" He called as he quickly hurried to the living room, finding Jet standing in the middle of it looking around at the destruction. Sam was sitting on the couch that was now lopsided, his hands hidden under his arms as he hugged himself. Dean dropped down beside him and turned his brother's head to look at his face. "Sam, you okay?"

"Dean… I think…" Sam stammered, his face was pale and his eyes were wide, "I think I'm-"

"Don't." Dean said firmly, "It wasn't you Sam."

"But it was." Sam insisted, the fear in his eyes growing, "I did it. I remember doing it."

Jet glanced over at Dean worriedly; he'd been with them for years and stuck by Dean as much as he could during Sam's sickness. Hearing this wasn't comforting for any of them.

"Sam-" Dean tried to say something, anything helpful but Sam shook his head.

"No, Dean. It's… It's me. Everything that Cas said… It's in me."

Dean looked back and forth between Sam's eyes, his stomach turning and knotting.

"Wouldn't that save you?"

Author's Note:

So yeah, chapter 6! Obviously. Thanks for reading guys :) I appreciate the support and really hope for some more feedback. If you have questions, ask away I'll try to answer them. If you just want to say 'nice' go for it. I love all comments :D

There was some confusion about Dean and I hope I cleared it up a bit. This Dean is not the same as Castiel's Dean, he is not reincarnated, he's a different guy from a different reality. Okay? Okay. Cool. See you all next chapter XD