When Cas gently knocked and opened Dean's door that evening, he found the hunter passed out on his bed, an empty bottle of jack still in his arms. He hesitated for a moment before he just backed out of the room, closing it behind him. He lingered indecisively for a few minutes before deciding to just head back out into the bunker library for the night.

It was late morning before the hunter woke. Dean felt every bit as awful as he would have expected. It took more than a few minutes to gather up the willpower to drag himself out of bed. He stumbled to the sink in the corner of his room and ran the water, splashing his face to try to focus the static in his brain. It didn't work. He took a deep breath, coming up and staring at himself in the mirror. He wasn't wild about what he saw, but then, he rarely was. He opened the mirror cabinet, grabbing the bottle of aspirin, shaking a couple out and washing them down before he could think twice.

Dean turned, walking to his dresser and gathering some fresh clothes, eager to get out of the torn and bloodstained outfit he hadn't cared about last night. Once dressed he simply sank back down to sit on his bed, letting himself breathe for a moment. He finally let his throbbing head start to wake up and remember the events of yesterday.

Memories seemed to flood in all at once. Sam getting blasted away, trading Cas to Malachi, getting captured, being tortured very nearly to death, Cas becoming an angel, Ezekiel being Gadreel, Sam finding out, Sam being pissed.

And even through all that, Dean was aware that he was focusing on it to avoid thinking about the other thing that happened yesterday. Dean felt his stomach churn and his head throb even harder as his body tensed with the thought. He wasn't even really sure how he felt… his feelings were complicated. And boy if he didn't hate that.

He considered for a moment not thinking about it at all. Not mentioning it to himself or anyone else ever again. There was a decent chance that if he didn't bring it up, Cas wouldn't either, and they'd just never talk about it. It could be as if it didn't happen. But it did. And Dean would always know.

Dean stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer. He began pacing, unwilling to go out into the bunker and face whatever faces he'd meet outside the safety of his room. How the fuck did he get into this mess?

And it wasn't like they hadn't been close to each other at the cabin. But it was different at the cabin, wasn't it? They were injured, on pain meds. Cas had been human, had been vulnerable. He had needed the hunter. Now?

Now he was standing in his room, too weak willed and scared to leave and risk facing the people he cared about and their potential judgement. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. Fuck that.

Dean didn't pause to give himself the chance to think better of it. He stood and strode across the room, opening the door and heading out into the bunker. He dragged himself towards the kitchen, his stomach groaning a little as he smelled the food being prepared. He could hear the sounds of someone cooking, but no talking. That might be a good sign…

He turned the corner, walking down the two steps before acknowledging the room's inhabitants. Kevin sat at the table, a book open in front of him. Sam meanwhile was cooking what appeared to be egg whites or some sort of other Dean-proclaimed 'hippy food'. The older Winchester took the direct path to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out a bottle of beer, taking it with him to go plop down across from the prophet. He tried to ignore Sam's bitch face, not sure if it had more to do with everything that had happened, or his choice of breakfast beverage.

"Wow. You look like ass." Kevin remarked, barely looking up from his book.

"Shut up." Dean rolled his eyes, twisting the top off the bottle and taking a sip, trying to ignore the protest his body made. He spared a glance up at his brother, but Sam seemed to be paying him no mind.

"So, either of you going to tell me what yesterday was all about, or am I going to have to bribe Cas for answers?"

The younger Winchester shifted uncomfortably, but did finally look sideways towards Dean. His mouth was set in a frown, and without talking he communicated with Dean. Yeah Dean, tell him.

Dean took a deep breath. "Uh…right." He turned the beer bottle over in his hand, absently running his finger along the edge of the label, smudging the condensation forming on the cold glass. "After… well you know how hard the trials were on Sam…" He winced slightly as he felt Sam's eyes on him. "I…"

"You did something predictably stupid." Kevin guessed.

Dean paused just long enough to glare at the prophet. "Yeah. Sam was dying, and I let an angel possess him."

"Thought we were supposed to be avoiding heaven?"

"Yeah, well. I didn't. Sam has an angel rattling around his skull. He got nabbed by angels, my fault, and Cas and I went to get him out." Dean turned his attention back down to the bottle of beer in his hands.

Kevin frowned, sensing there was more. Likely a lot more, but he never expected to get the whole story anyway. "And…?"

"And I got my grace back." A deep voice echoed from the hallway.

Dean's eyes snapped up and he fumbled, the smooth glass bottle slipping through his fingers and shattering on the concrete floor. He jumped to his feet, cursing. Carefully ignoring the three pairs of eyes on him, he crossed the kitchen to grab a dish towel, throwing it down on the mess.

"Smooth." Kevin said simply.

Dean shot him another, more scathing glare. He wiped his hands on his jeans, stepping on the cloth to mop up the liquid. He used his boot to shove the sopping wet cloth and glass against the wall to deal with later. He crossed the kitchen again, intent on grabbing another beer. As he reached for it however, Sam kicked the fridge door shut, jerking his head towards the coffee pot. Pulling a face, Dean went and poured himself a cup, settling back in his seat against the wall. He was too aware of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck as Cas sat down at the table next to him. One seat between them, but still closer than he'd like to deal with at the moment.

"You look awful." Cas remarked.

Dean looked up, opening his mouth to defend himself when two fingers bridged the gap and gently brushed his forehead. The last tendrils of his hangover left him, and he blinked, turning his eyes back down to his mug, muttering a thanks.

Kevin thought for a moment. "So wait. Sam still has an angel in his head?"

"Yeah." Sam finally spoke, scraping the last bit of breakfast onto plates. "Gadreel." He walked over, sliding a plate in front of Kevin and one in front of Dean. He returned for the final two plates, placing one in front of Cas and finally sitting with his own.

"He one of the good guys?" Kevin asked hesitantly.

"Seems like." Sam said absently.

Cas seemed to consider his plate while speaking. "Gadreel is somewhat of an outcast amongst angels." He puts a bite in his mouth, pulling a slight face before putting the fork back down.

"Sounds like a lot of us then." Kevin admitted, digging into his own plate without any hesitation.

Dean mostly just moved the eggs around his plate. He wanted to believe it's because he wouldn't eat that sissy food his brother eats, but he knew that wasn't the real reason he wasn't hungry.

"Are you not well?" Cas asked, watching the normally starving hunter merely pick at his food.

"I'm fine." Dean growled, taking a heaping forkful and forcing it into his mouth. He tried to ignore the flutter of discomfort at eating it in spite of his disinterest. He reached for his coffee to wash it down. "What about you?"

Cas looked wistfully at his plate. "I no longer seem able to appreciate the whole of food. It tastes like… molecules."

Dean froze, considering his words. He felt a strong pang of guilt, but he forced himself to drop it and not think at all for the moment.

The rest of the morning meal was eaten in silence. Dean was grateful when Cas and Kevin moved off together, talking about something or other to do with the cat. He stood, holding his plate and crossing the kitchen to dispose of the uneaten food and begin to clean the dishes.

Sam sighed, leaning against the counter and watching. "I get it."

Dean looked up, surprised, having expected Sam to have left, or at the very least be ignoring him.

Sam looked up, shaking his head. "The shit I've done when I thought I was losing you… or when I thought I had lost you…" He let out his breath, letting his shoulders fall. "Look, I'm not happy about it… about the lies and… the tricks but… Gadreel told me he warned you not to tell me."

Dean continued to wash, and kept Sam in his sights, but he remained quiet, not willing to interrupt.

"We have to be honest… from here on out, I'm serious. No keeping shit from each other. It always gets us into shit we didn't need to step in."

The older Winchester nodded. "I can do that."

Sam let out a weak smile and a half laugh. "Good."

"I am sorry."

"I know." Sam was quiet for a few minutes, and Dean had thought he was done, but it seems his little brother was just thinking. "What's up with you and Cas? You seem… flustered. What happened after Crowley got me out of there?"

"Flustered?" Dean asked, trying to sound as incredulous as he could manage. He put the last plate into the drying rack, turning off the tap and drying his hands before turning and leaning back against the industrial sink. He thought for a moment before shaking his head, standing and coming back to refill his coffee and settle back in at the table.

"And what'd Cas mean, he got his grace back?" Sam joined him across the table.

"Malachi thought Cas could tell him how to get back into heaven, so he could, I don't know, lead his armies home or tap dance on Bartholemew's grave or something." He took a sip of the bitter liquid. "I was hiding, trying to find time to get Cas and fight our way out."

"With one good leg?"

"It was… a plan." Dean tried, knowing how incredibly stacked the odds had been when he made the plan. "It was a better plan than Cas' suicidal just-give-them-me plan." He gave a half shrug and a weak grin at his brother's flat glare. "Anyway, it went about as well as you'd expect."

"So you were captured."

"So… I may have failed to avoid detection, yes." Dean rolled his eyes. "Theo gave me the same treatment he gave Gadreel in the hopes of getting Cas to talk."

"But Cas didn't know how Metatron's spell worked."

"Yeah, Malachi didn't seem too inclined to believe him."

"Did Crowley manage to get you guys out?"

"No, he couldn't get back in."

"Then how-"

Dean heaved another sigh. "I don't actually know. I did okay for a while, but I got knocked out. Sort of a close call I guess. Malachi left, Theo tried to make a deal with Cas on the sly. Cas played along or something and, I guess, took Theo's grace?"

"He could do that?"

"Apparently." Dean finished his second cup of coffee. "He healed me."

"And?"

Dean cleared his throat, feeling a heat rising up his neck he'd rather ignore. Forever. Until he died. "We booked it. Crowley was outside, had already taken care of Malachi and maybe half a dozen others. Then we met up with you and-" He gestured up at Sam's head, and his brother knew what he meant.

"Well. Glad you two made it out alright."

"Yeah." Dean said softly. "Me too."

.

Dean had managed to put off talking to Cas for an impressive amount of time. He spent most of it in the garage assessing the damage done to his baby, working on what he could get started on, and writing up a parts list for what he'd need. He accepted Kevin's sandwich delivery with slightly more enthusiasm than breakfast, but still, like earlier, he only got through a couple bites before he just couldn't stomach it anymore.

He was bracing for any moment, when he knew Cas would come into the garage, ready to talk. But hour after hour passed and he didn't show.

It wasn't until Dean was in his room that evening when he heard the rapt knock at his door that he knew his reprieve was over. He grunted an invitation, not yet looking up from where he sat at his desk, jotting down a few last minute things on the list he was going to send to the parts shop he usually bought from. He heard Cas shuffle in, closing the door behind him.

"Sam sent me with food. He said you have not eaten enough today."

Dean suppressed the urge to make a face. "I'm not hungry."

"That is unlike you." Cas set the plate down on the side of his desk. "Do you require more healing? I did not sense illness earlier but I could-"

Dean dodged Cas' outstretched palm, putting up his hand to stop him. "I'm fine Cas. Not sick, I promise." He looked at the plate with disinterest. A burger and fries. Sam must've gone out to get them, probably in the hopes he'd eat it. Leave it to that asshole to go out of his way to take care of Dean while still being sort of pissed off at him.

The angel allowed his hand to drop, standing awkwardly and watching the hunter ignore his food and go back to writing. "You are uncomfortable." He said simply.

"No… yes… I don't-" Dean put his pen down, pushing himself up from his chair. He noted when the angel took a step back to give him space. "Cas…" He paused and then busied himself putting away the list and straightening up the desk. He didn't know what to say. And he was kicking himself for having all day to prepare and still being so unprepared when it came down to it.

"I attempted to give you space when I sensed your discomfort at breakfast." Cas looked hesitant, like he was considering if he should leave.

"Yeah."

"I could give you space now, but I anticipate this will not be resolved by the passage of more time."

"Cas-"

"I could take it away. If you want. You needn't remember it if it distresses you."

Dean turned, looking at the angel finally. Castiel's expression was entirely unreadable and his tone was unwavering. "Is that what you want?"

Cas tilted his head, looking towards the ceiling as if in thought. "I do not wish to further your pain."

"That isn't an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

Dean looked away again, feeling a rising heat in his face, and it wasn't shame this time. It was anger. As if this wasn't hard enough without Cas being… whatever the hell Cas was being right now. He clenched his fist, breathing through it until it faded slightly.

"That was the wrong thing to say." Cas observed, his tone unchanging.

"Yeah." Dean said simply. He turned back to stare at the angel again, searching his blue eyes for something that would tell him something about what the angel was thinking. "God Cas, do you even feel anything?"

"Yes Dean. My human emotions may be more muted, but they are not gone."

"Then how the fuck are you just standing there like that. Dodging my questions. Making me work to try to figure out what you-" The hunter took a moment to reign himself in, trying to avoid shouting lest he accidentally summon his brother. "To try to get any clue what you're thinking."

Cas was silent again, watching the hunter as he began to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

Dean clenched his fists, letting a snort of air through his nostrils. "You know what, yeah Cas. I think it might be best if you just take that memory away." He said bitterly.

"I can certainly do that." He moved slowly, beginning to bridge the gap between them.

Dean reacted like he was being shocked, suddenly moving away, taking a few hasty steps back. "You would, wouldn't you? Just like that, you'd just do it. No questions asked."

Cas let his hand fall back to his side. "I do not understand. Do you wish me to take the memory or not?"

"Jesus Cas, I want you to show some sort of emotion. Any emotion. Prove you aren't just a robot."

"You are angry."

"Damn right I am!" Dean snapped, his earlier thoughts of volume control evaporating.

Cas flinched, so slight the hunter wasn't sure if he imagined it. "I am sorry Dean."

"Sorry for what, Cas." He spat.

"This is difficult."

The hunter gave a humorless snort of laughter. "What? What is so fucking difficult?"

"Being an angel once more."

This stopped Dean. "What?"

"Emotions as a human are intense, and they are unmanageable, but they are pure and… readily accessed. I did not gain an aptitude for expressing them while I was without my grace, but now I find that they are even more difficult to put into words."

Dean was quiet for a moment, mulling over this new info and feeling just a little like an ass. "But you still feel?" He sought reassurance despite Castiel answering this just moments before.

"Yes."

Silence again.

"Dean-"

"This is all too fucking much. I don't even know what happened, Cas. I don't know why I-" The hunter began pacing, an impulse he did not give into often. He stopped almost as quickly as he started, his back to the angel. "Everything happened so fast, everything yesterday happened so damn fast, and I... " He whipped around, and froze, taking in whatever expression Cas was wearing now. It wasn't indifference… if Dean had to guess, it was pain.

"I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that."

"I know." Cas struggled to decide on what he would say next. His expression was softening into one of clearer distress. He searched to say anything that would help bridge the gap. "I would not have altered any decision I made yesterday that assisted in saving your life. But I do regret having to take in Theo's grace, and more than that, putting you in harm's way at all." He was hit with another familiar stab of guilt, the memory of Dean's screams echoing in his mind.

"Cas-'' Dean's voice broke when he cut Cas off, and he let his shoulders sag. With his anger receding, he felt old. Exhausted.

The angel felt his heart clench, seeing the hunter break. He finally dared to bridge the gap between them, slowly as if trying not to startle a wild animal. He came to stop right in front of him, hesitating before slowly reaching towards him.

Dean allowed himself to close the distance, allowing himself to get lost in the embrace, even if only for a moment. Even then his mind screamed at him to let go and put those walls back in place, but he fought those thoughts with everything he had left in his tired soul. "I don't know how to say what I mean…" he muttered, his voice muffled as his face was obscured by Cas' shoulder.

"You don't need to say anything."

A pause. "Read it."

"What?"

"You can read my mind, right? You can see my thoughts? Take them." He tried to convince himself he wasn't pleading.

Cas pulled back slightly, looking Dean in the face, hesitant.

"Read them… you have my permission."

Castiel reached up, hovering his hand just shy of touching the hunter. With one last look into those green eyes, he allowed his palm to rest on the side of his head, feeling a stir of some emotion when Dean subconsciously leaned into the touch ever so slightly. His other hand came to rest over the palm print scar left by his grace all those years ago. He pushed his borrowed grace forward, allowing it to glimpse into the hunter's mind.

Dean's breath hitched, the feeling of having his mind read always one that felt like a violation. But he trusted Castiel enough to allow it against his every instinct. He swallowed, feeling more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life, and his raw reaction was to shut himself off, maybe even run. But he forced himself to remain planted to the spot.

Cas let his hand fall away from the hunter's head, but his hand remained on Dean's arm. His forehead came forward at the same time Dean's did, and their heads came to rest against each other. He was aware that Dean's face was wet with newly shed tears.

Cas shot into action as Dean crumpled, his legs finally giving out from under him. Castiel caught him, steadying him against his shoulder, and moving him towards the bed. He put his hand back to Dean's forehead, scanning for injury, but it was clear that it was just a combination of exhaustion and stress coupled with not eating since breakfast the day before. Cas only paused for a moment before he sat on the bed, guiding Dean to lay down, before leaning back himself, and pulling the hunter close to him. No more words were needed just then, and Cas pressed two fingers to his forehead, placing him in a restful dreamless sleep.

The angel shrugged out of his coat, settling himself down further, wrapping his arms around Dean, letting the hunter's head come to rest on his chest. He pulled the coat over him, letting his mind turn over the day's events… Dean's mind had held no words, just raw emotions. Pain, anger, fear… but also love. Cas had felt the warmth in that love, and it was more than enough. There would be more to talk about tomorrow. But for now, he simply allowed himself to hold Dean securely and watch over him until morning.