Small town. No highway. One bar. That means that agreements should be counted more as suggestions. Means you're going to have to wear long sleeves for a couple weeks. Or maybe you'll get lucky and get banged up on a hunt before then.

Great thing to hope for, idiot.

The guy's coat has a werewolf patch on the back. Or at least you think it's supposed to be a werewolf. It's fairly obscene.

Today's accepted adjective is pretty. Fine.

Only one shot at this, what you make on this is what we have until Dad bothers to show up again. You're pretty. This is what you want. And this guy is eighteen give or take thirty years.

Probably not a great sign he got you before going into the bar. It's usually easier when they're a few deep before this point.

The guy's coat is hanging over the back of the motel chair. It's been over a year since you fought a werewolf. It was the third hunt you brought Sam on. He had killed it.

It's not clear if getting kicked was because you weren't listening or something completely unrelated. Jeans at least can cover that.

Can't back out now. One shot. Unless you want to test to see if the Sheriff would side with you if you get caught. You haven't quite gotten a feel of the political landscape in this part of New York.

Plus your arms are tied to the bed frame.

Fuck.

.

Waking up was something Dean had carefully trained himself to deal with since he was six years old and still having nightmares of his mother burning on the ceiling.

Immediately after he woke he tensed every muscle in his body, clamping down and making absolutely sure he couldn't throw himself out of bed like he wanted. He bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood, preventing himself from making sound.

He couldn't hear anything around him over the roar of his pulse, and he desperately began to look around him for landmarks to remind him where he was and who he was with. This time it was comforting it wasn't a motel.

He found Sam at last, in his bed a mere three feet away. Dean didn't dare close his eyes, instead letting it sink in that it was over. The nightmare was over. He was awake. This time it had been a dream.

He finally managed to school his breathing, and he could slowly unclench his body. He let his head fall back against the pillow for a second before he slowly sat up. He took a look at the clock on the bedside table before deciding to go for a walk to clear his head. Sam wouldn't wake up for a while, and he was safe here… At least in theory.

Maybe he could get his bearings a bit.

Dean wasn't quite sure where he was going, and he was surprised to find himself in the library, thinking he had been going the opposite direction. He froze, eyes finding the tan coat first before lifting up to make eye contact with the angel.

"Hello Dean."

Dean couldn't help a small shudder. "Uh… hi." He offered.

"You are welcome to join me." Cas offered after a moment.

Dean didn't move at first, considering the invitation. "Sure." He said at last. He rounded the table, sitting across from Cas stiffly. "Not sleeping?" He asked guardedly.

"I don't sleep." Cas replied.

Dean considered that, looking over him with a wary expression. Finally, he couldn't hold back. "What are you?" Dean blurted out before he could consider how he wanted to better phrase that.

Cas didn't seem to take offense. If anything he looked slightly amused. "I am an angel."

Dean just studied him for a moment. "You're…" He pulled a face. "What?"

Cas couldn't help the small smile. "You were not very quick to believe me when we first met either."

"This is the first time we met."

Cas stopped for a moment, considering that. "I suppose you are technically correct." He closed the book he had been reading. "In your timeline at least."

"How does that work, exactly?" Dean crossed his arms. "I mean, he… I… I don't remember this, right?"

Cas bowed his head. "I'm afraid we will need to erase your memories of this time."

"You can do that?"

"Angels can take memories, yes."

Dean frowned. He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Cas didn't seem to notice. "Having trouble sleeping?"

He sighed. "Yeah."

Cas nodded understandingly. "I'm afraid you still often struggle with that."

"Great."

Cas' smile deepened somewhat, but he had the courtesy to look away. "I could help you find rest again if you wanted."

"No." Dean said quickly, taking in Cas' expression. "But you already knew that."

Cas spread a hand in agreement.

"Because he won't." Dean finished, catching on. "Right."

"You are not as predictable as it might appear." Cas tried to assure him.

"He asleep?"

"They both are." Cas replied. "Sam will be up to go for a run shortly. Dean just got to sleep, so I imagine he'll be down for another five hours or so."

Okay, so not great habits. Dean regarded the angel carefully. "How did you end up here?" He asked finally. "Shouldn't you be like, up in heaven or something?"

Cas' smile faded. "I'm afraid I am unwelcome in heaven."

"What, you get kicked out for bad behavior?" He frowned when he caught Cas' expression. "Wait, you did? What'd you do!?"

"I followed you."

"You-" Dean paled slightly, a dread building in his chest. Of all the things he figured he'd do in life, 'get an angel kicked out of heaven' hadn't made his list. He struggled to focus. "Why?"

"Why did I follow you?"

"Yeah." He said weakly.

"It was the right thing to do." Cas said, conviction clear in his tone. "You broke me free of Heaven's control." He hesitated. "More than once."

"Oh." Dean replied, trying to come up with anything else. He cleared his throat. "How…uh." He frowned when his voice cracked slightly, and he fought to get it back under control. "How did you two meet?"

Cas stopped. "I do not think that is my story to tell."

"What are you talking about?" Dean pulled a face. "It's literally at least half your story."

"Dean should be the one to disclose what he wishes about meeting me."

Dean felt the pressure return. Oh. His mind provided him with several helpful possibilities, each worse than the last, though none were right. "Right." He said guardedly.

Cas just gave a slow nod again.

"And now you just live here?"

"I suppose." Cas said slowly. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"What do you mean you haven't thought about it?"

Cas raised a shoulder in a half shrug. "I travel a lot but I do return here when I am done."

"Yeah, that's living here, buddy." Dean returned.

Cas gave a half laugh, enjoying the similarities in Dean's personality. "I've been here for the last week though."

"You leaving again soon?"

Cas hesitated. "Would you feel more comfortable if I did?"

"Would that make a difference?"

Cas looked back at him directly. "Yes." He said simply, but there was no judgment in his tone.

Dean stilled under his gaze for a moment, repressing another shudder. "I'm okay." He said at last. Perhaps it was just that Cas was willing to leave that helped him feel a bit more at ease with him being there.

"Then I will be staying for a while."

"Mmh." In the silence that followed, Dean took a good look at their surroundings. "So this was an old hunter's base?" He asked. "Pretty sweet setup we got going here."

"It belonged to the Men of Letters. I think Sam would enjoy giving you the history on it, so I won't go into too many details now." Cas admitted.

"That nerd."

"So you say."

Dean pulled a face. "That's so weird." He looked back at the angel. "This is so weird. You know me...us… Or will know us. Whatever."

"This is somewhat unusual."

"Somewhat?"

"Time travel has been known to go awry in similar fashion… But it has not happened in several decades, and that itself was an extremely rare occasion."

"Do I want to know?"

"I doubt it."

"Gotcha." Dean let that subject drop. "So… time travel is a thing." Cas had said it so casually. "Can angels time travel?"

"I'm afraid not anymore." Cas sighed. "We used to be able to fly through space and with enough effort, time."

Dean tensed. "Did I-"

"You had nothing to do with the angels falling." Cas assured him quickly.

Dean let out his breath. "Okay."

"Unfortunately without angels, it will be much more difficult to return you to your time."

"But you do." Dean said. "I mean obviously. You're all here."

Cas nodded. "Correct."

"So that's good at least." Dean said softly.

"Yes."

Young Dean looked back at the door, trying to picture the hallways and imagining Dean in his room, whatever that looked like. "He… Me… what am I like?"

Cas considered for a long moment. "Selfless." He said at last. He frowned. "Infuriating at times."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, feeling something relax. He didn't know about 'selfless', but there was something about hearing an angel of the lord call him out like that. "That sounds about right."

.

Young Dean had only managed to find a few minutes of alone time before he heard someone approach the kitchen. He felt a stab of disappointment when he saw himself enter the room.

The older Dean paused in the doorway. It was too late now to change course and get out of there. He was stuck. Swallowing he pushed into the room, crossing to start moving things on the counter.

"Cas said you were sleeping."

"Yeah, I told Cas I was." Dean shrugged.

"Lying to an angel. Isn't that a sin?" His younger counterpart teased.

"Yeah, well." Dean pulled a can of coffee out, prying off the lid and starting to measure it into the coffee maker. "Not even the worst sin I've committed this week." He walked the coffee pot to the sink, filling it with water and pouring it in to start the machine.

"Jay walking?"

"You guessed it." He finally turned and looked at himself. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Got some." The younger Dean looked away.

"Mmhmm." Dean let it drop. He turned away, grabbing a couple bowls, letting himself get lost in thought for a second before things came back into focus. He spoke without looking over his shoulder. "How's the ribs?"

Young Dean's breath hitched before he forced himself to breathe through it. The dull throb in his torso took the opportunity to flair up when he stopped actively ignoring it. "Nothin' wrong with them."

"You do get that you're literally lying to yourself right now."

He pulled a face. "Whatever."

Dean slid a bowl in front of his younger self before leaving and returning with a carton of milk and a box of crunch cookie crunch. "Eat something."

"I'm not hungry." Young Dean dismissed.

"Yeah, you are." Dean insisted. "Three weeks since Dad left. Sleepy town, no highway, no truck stops, one bar in town." He remembered. He was eating once a day so Sam could eat three. After the last time he got caught for stealing, he wasn't going to risk it again.

His younger self's eyes widened, and he looked for just a second like a wild animal caught in a trap before he carefully controlled his expression. He considered for a moment just blankly telling him he didn't know what he was talking about, but then he realized how stupid that'd be. He didn't move, not sure what to do.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever, suit yourself." He straightened up. "Sam will be awake in an hour or so. We'll order pizza or something."

"It's five in the morning."

"I said 'or something'." Dean replied flatly. He poured out two mugs of coffee, trying to remember if he used to like something in it. He gave up, figuring his younger self could figure it out himself. He placed one on the table for him before getting himself a bowl of cereal.

Lastly, he pulled out a box of cinnamon toast crunch, putting it out on the table. "For Sammy." He said before grabbing his bowl and mug and heading out the door.

.

Dean stopped when he saw Cas sitting in the library. He wasn't sure why he had been so confident he'd be alone there. He kicked himself for not going back to his room with his food.

Cas lifted his eyes, and his expression fell. "Hello Dean." He said softly.

"Hey." He replied weakly. He sighed, sitting across from Cas and setting down his mug and bowl.

"I thought you were going to get some sleep."

"Yeah." Dean didn't look up.

Cas didn't bother to ask if Dean had even tried. He knew the answer. "Your younger self is struggling with sleep as well."

"Yeah. Don't think there was ever a time that wasn't the case." Dean shifted under Cas' continued stare.

"How are y-"

"No." Dean cut him off. "I'm done talking to or about myself right now." He turned his attention back towards his breakfast. "Besides." He continued, despite the mouthful of cereal. "I should be asking you that."

Cas tilted his head. "Is this about Ramiel?"

Dean looked back at him. "Is this about…?" He flattened his expression. "Yes it's about Ramiel. You, poisoned spears, vomiting black goo again? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Cas frowned. "I am fine."

"Good." Dean said, tone easing up. "You given any thought to what comes next?"

"I asked your younger self if he would be more comfortable if I left."

"Fuck him, do what you want." Dean said shortly.

Cas threw him a look he figured was probably somewhere halfway between some motivational quote about being nicer to himself and 'shut the fuck up'. "I am planning to stay for a while." He bowed his head slightly. "Though I do think when your mother is here I should keep my distance. I do not put her at ease."

"Mom won't be uh… she won't be… she's not gonna be around."

Cas furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"She…" Dean set down his coffee. "She's been working with the British Men of Letters." He said slowly.

Cas sat back in his chair. "Oh…" He breathed. "She-"

"Since before the whole thing with Ramiel." Dean supplied. "She uh… they…"

"It was their assignment." Cas guessed. "She was following their orders. I imagine she took something from Ramiel for them." His insistence they stole from him finally came into focus.

"She-" Dean froze, a chill sweeping over him, the room closing in slightly. "I didn't…"

"Dean."

"I didn't…" Dean hadn't made that connection. "She had… she stole something…" Ramiel had made an offer. Offered to spare them if they returned whatever it was. "She risked all our lives…" He shook his head. "No, you know what? Nevermind. Screw her."

"Dean…" Cas reached out but pulled his hand back before he touched Dean's. "She's your mother."

"She almost got you killed." Dean snapped.

Cas sighed. "I am alright."

Dean's shoulders fell. "Barely." He closed his eyes, trying to shake Cas' goodbye speech out of his head. "It doesn't matter. We… I told her to leave."

"Dean-"

"Not up for discussion." Dean warned. "Sam's on my side. She stays away."

Cas chose not to say anything, not sure what he even would.

"Besides. We have enough on our plate."

"I suppose." Cas tilted his head, looking up towards the door, listening far away. "I hear your brother getting up, and your former self appears to have left the kitchen."

"Great."

"I expect they will both make their way here shortly."

"Yeah." Dean hesitated. "Cas?"

Cas turned back to look at him.

"I'm glad you're sticking around."

Cas smiled gently. "I am too."