Here you go! Another chapter. I like this one. There's some Kevin and some fluff, although hopefully not too much fluff as we all know my distaste for overfluffing. The pace of the fic slows here and I'm not sure why, but I promise that we will eventually get to the date and more Charlie and stuff with Gadreel and at some point in the distant future, actual smut. I'm just rather slow, but I guess if you didn't like my snail's pace you wouldn't still be reading XD Enjoy!

The day ticks by at an irritating pace. Dean, true to his word, slips out while I'm talking to Sam and goes for a long drive, texting Sam that he'll be back in time for dinner. I sit in my room and listen to the songs that Sam placed onto my phone, enjoying some and feeling ambivalent about others. I vaguely recognise all of them from trips in the Impala. The Aerosmith song that Sam and Jess first kissed to is included and I'm unsure whether it's part of the mix tape listing or if Sam just added it as a message of encouragement to me.

I decide on a particular track which I feel suits Dean and me, making a deal with myself that I'll kiss him by the end of that song. I have no idea why I feel nervous at the thought; Dean has made it perfectly clear that he's physically attracted to me. I seem to have fallen into the illogical human habit of regarding a kiss as an affirmation of romantic feelings, when really it's just an expression of physical and not necessarily emotional intimacy. What I actually want from Dean is assurance that he won't change his mind about our relationship and close himself off from me. In the meantime, kissing him again seems like a proactive option.

Feeling impatient with my own moping, I go back to the kitchen and find Kevin cooking instant ramen for a late lunch. I haven't eaten yet and I decide that ramen is easy enough for me to attempt. Kevin kindly guides me through the process while he eats his own food leaning against the counter, an amused grin lighting up his face as he watches me struggle. Finally, I serve the noodles into a bowl and sit down at the table with an annoyed huff. Kevin washes his dish and then settles opposite me with a glass of juice, eyeing me with quiet curiosity.

"So," he ventures as I begin to eat. "I've been pretty confused for a while now about what's going on between you and Dean."

I pause with a noodle dangling from my lips. Slurping it up hastily, I put my fork down. "You have?"

Kevin nods. "I mean, you guys are together, right?"

I confirm this with a smile, pleased that I can answer in this way rather than wistfully explaining that we're just friends. Kevin sits up straighter.

"I knew it!" he exclaims excitedly. He shakes his head, snorting. "Man, you guys should really tell Sam. I asked him after you arrived and he told me you and Dean weren't a couple. I was like, are you blind? I mean-"

"Sam wasn't wrong," I interrupt, frowning. "Dean and I were not romantically involved with each other at that point. Our relationship only reached that stage yesterday. Well, technically today, I suppose..."

Kevin raises his eyebrows in clear disbelief. "Dude. Come on. The staring? The sexting? The checking each other out all the time? Something must have been going on before now."

Flushing, I shake my head with a shrug. Kevin sits back in his chair, sipping thoughtfully at his juice.

"Wow," he finally says. "That is some serious build-up. I'm glad you guys have finally gotten a clue, then."

"So am I," I say mildly. Kevin grins at me. I smile back at him before a thought occurs to me.

"Kevin, you spend a lot of time with Sam."

The young prophet blinks before his eyes widen in apparent horror. "Oh, man, no. I mean, Sam's great, but I am not interested and I really don't think he-"

"No, you misunderstand me," I interrupt, amused. "I just wanted to know if you've noticed anything odd about his behaviour since the angels fell. After he recovered from the trials."

Kevin frowns. "Oh. Not really. Although the other day he had a weird freak out, but it's like he didn't even remember it afterwards."

I sit up straight, alert. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't know, it was so random. I was picking out stuff I'd translated which I found interesting and Sam was really into it, asking me all these questions like a total nerd. And that's a lot coming from me. Anyway, I was relaying some kind of angelic historical reference. I looked up and Sam was glaring at me, like total death glare, it was kind of scary. I was like, dude, what's up? And he told me in this really angry voice that I should stay out of affairs that don't concern me and that there's so much I don't understand, could never understand."

I'm listening intently. "Then what?"

"Then he just got up and walked out of the room. Came back five minutes later acting all normal again. Then - this is the weirdest bit - he sat down and wanted to know more about what I'd been talking about. I was like, um, I thought you said I should stay out of that stuff? He seemed really confused so I dropped it and changed the subject."

"Good," I murmur. "That's good, Kevin."

"Why?" the boy asks suspiciously. "What's up with Sam?"

"Nothing," I say perfunctorily, not even bothering to make the lie convincing. Kevin narrows his eyes and I continue before he can protest. "What was the historical reference that angered him?"

"It was... I don't know, it was talking about failure and punishment and as an example, it mentioned the angel who let down his guard when Eve ate the apple."

"Gadreel?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Why would Sam be all defensive of this Gadreel guy?"

I stare at the table surface, thinking hard. Sam isn't defensive of Gadreel, but Ezekiel clearly is. Why? I can't recall any angel I knew ever having made contact with the infamously shamed and imprisoned Gadreel, least of all Ezekiel.

"I have no idea," I mumble, more to myself than to Kevin. He sighs impatiently.

"Castiel, something is clearly up. Is Sam OK?"

I glance up at him. "For now, yes. I can't share everything with you, Kevin. Just keep working on your translations and if you need to know something, we'll tell you. But, please, this is important: do not mention this to Sam. Any of it. It's for his own safety."

Kevin's eyes are wide and concerned. He nods slowly, reluctantly. I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you. You will know more once we do. Just don't worry too much about it for now."

He snorts. "Yeah, right. Like I do anything but worry, living this batshit crazy life."

I regard him sadly. "You had very different plans for your future."

"Yeah, I did," says the prophet bitterly. The anger in his eyes fades after a moment, leaving a dull weariness. "Whatever. This is how things are now. I suppose I should just be grateful that my Mom and I are still alive."

I feel a surge of sympathy and protectiveness. It's so unfair that Kevin is living in fear, shackled by the whims of misfortune, his bright human dreams destroyed. I've seen it so many times, but this hits me harder than usual. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I really am. We'll keep you both safe, though, I promise."

Rolling his eyes, Kevin downs the last of his juice and stands up. "Sure you will. You'll smite anyone who threatens me, right? Oh, wait, you can't."

I stare up at him, hurt and lost for words. He blinks at me and remorse is clear on his face. "OK... that was douchey of me. I'm sorry. I'm just so mad all the time, and so fucking tired."

I shrug and nod, still feeling a little winded. Kevin sighs.

"I'm happy for you and Dean," he mutters flatly. I open my mouth to reply but he turns and leaves the room, dumping his glass in the sink on the way. I push my cold ramen aside and sit for a while in the silence, trying to shake the melancholy feeling that Kevin's words left me with. We've all had to deal with loss and pain that we could do nothing to change.

Instead, I think about the link between Ezekiel and Gadreel. Perhaps they met after the fall, since Gadreel would have been freed from his chains by Metatron's spell. But no, they can't have had time. They must have formed a relationship before the fall, in Heaven. Perhaps Gadreel was freed after I rebelled and I just never heard about it. It seems highly unlikely though-

"Jeez, I can hear your brain whirring from here."

I jump and look up, heart thudding. Dean is standing in the doorway, a full glass of whiskey in his hand, eyeing me with a familiar look of false confidence on his face. It doesn't mask the uncertainty in his eyes or the way he hovers, ready to run.

"Dean," I breathe, half rising from my chair before I remember that humans like to 'play it cool' and I should probably attempt to do so too. Smiling at him, I sit back down and gesture to the seat opposite me. "Did you have a good drive?"

He hesitates before crossing to the table and sitting down, fixing watchful green eyes on me. "Yeah. Yeah, I did a lot of thinking."

I nod, unsure of how to respond. "That's... good."

"I always say that thinking too much is a dangerous thing," he says in a pensive tone, swirling his drink absently. "But yeah, good. It's good."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is that your first drink?"

Dean rolls his eyes, his gaze sharpening. "Yes! I waited till I'd put Baby away for the day before I so much as sniffed any booze. Don't worry."

"No, I just meant that you're acting a little odd."

"Am I?" Dean says with a wry grimace. I chuckle and then, quite suddenly, remember that I have information to share regarding Ezekiel. I do so quickly and Dean seems to lose his awkwardness as he listens and asks questions, falling back into his default mode of protective big brother.

"So this is something to do with this Gadreel guy," Dean muses, sipping at his drink. "OK, OK, how about this: some kind of cult group. I mean, the angels have been splitting into factions and shit since the civil war up there, right? Maybe some of those factions were more out there than others. Maybe one of them had Gadreel as their poster boy instead of you or Raphael! Ezekiel could just see this Gadreel dude as a symbol..."

I stare at him and he falters, losing the excited sparkle in his eyes.

"I mean, that's probably not it," he mutters, glancing away.

"What? No, Dean, that's smart!" I protest, leaning forward. "I never thought of that. I assumed Ezekiel must know Gadreel personally, but you're right, he may just know of him and have some kind of regard for him. That's probably it, actually."

A smile tugs at Dean's mouth and he shrugs, flushing a little. "Guess I can't be a dumbass all the time."

I frown in disapproval. "One day, I'd like to see you acknowledge your own intelligence and actually mean it."

Dean makes a face at me but then pauses, his eyes holding mine. When he speaks his voice is very quiet and serious. "You really would, wouldn't you?"

I tilt my head at him. "What do you mean?"

"I just... I was thinking about that today. About the way you see me, and what a load of crap it is, but how amazing it is too. And I-" He pauses, swallows, visibly pushes past fear and reluctance. "I think I need that. You. I think you're good for me."

I bite my lip to stop my grin from looking too idiotically happy, but I feel uncharacteristically like whooping out loud. "Sam said the same thing to me."

"Yeah, look, obviously I didn't reach these oh so wise and thoughtful conclusions without some help."

I chuckle, crossing my arms loosely on the table and leaning forward. "And what are some of your other wise and thoughtful conclusions?"

Dean downs the rest of his drink smoothly, his confidence appearing more genuine now. "I reckon I'm pretty lucky to have you, and I probably never say that to you, but I just did. So, um, yeah."

"I think that I'm the lucky one."

"Yeah, you would. I also realised today that this thing, unlike every other time I've tried it, could actually work. I mean, that's kinda awesome. And terrifying, but hey, let's focus on the positives."

I'm actually dizzy with joy at this point. "Yes, let's."

Fiddling with his glass with nervous fingers, Dean's smiles fades a little and mine echoes it. I watch him closely as he continues, his eyes fixed on the table top.

"Cas, I do want this to work out. I know I've spent a lot of time - years - acting like this thing between us wasn't there, or was something different. But I do get that we're past that point now. I can't promise that this won't turn to shit, but I can promise that I won't be pretending any more. OK?"

I take a moment to respond. "Honesty is all I'm asking of you, Dean. Anything else you give me is up to you. I just want us to be together, in whatever form suits you best."

Dean glances up at me and shakes his head, looking oddly upset. "That's... ridiculously unselfish."

"Do you want me to be selfish?"

"I want you to be happy," Dean says without hesitating, and his hands go still on the glass. He looks as surprised by his words as I feel. "Yeah, fuck, I really do. I want you to be happy. Maybe that's the problem. I don't make people happy, Cas. I can't even make me happy."

I shut my eyes and shake my head, my fingers digging in where they're wrapped around my upper arms. "That's the opposite of the truth. My experience of happiness is exclusively centred around you."

I hear Dean sigh. "You need to get out more, then."

I laugh a little breathlessly, opening my eyes and regarding him with unabashed adoration. He peers back at me, looking puzzled more than anything else.

"Dean," I say softly. "I would like to ask you to attend a date with me."

Dean's eyes go wide, and then narrow again with suspicion. "Sam put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Yes. It's just some beers in my room."

To my surprise, Dean blushes and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. "That is a classic middle school technique for getting someone alone and reaching third base."

"I don't know what-"

"Fine," Dean says loudly, talking over me. "I'll bring the beers. This is stupid though."

"If you don't want to, we don't-"

"Eight o'clock OK?"

I huff in irritation but Dean's eyes are twinkling with mirth. He's clearly making fun of me. I should really be used to it by now.

I can work on that.