Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A curse upon the seventh son

of the seventh son of Novak. 

It cannot be defeated nor undone,

no earthly magic will drive it back.  

A beastly ghoul of fire and passion,

with eyes of blue and heart of coal, 

empowered by lust in dangerous fashion

will consume its victim’s heart and soul.

A life alone is fated to be,

a life without another’s touch,

for if he dares to try and see

his soul is prey to evil’s clutch. 

The end of the line draws near and nearer,

the boy and the demon are infinitely mirrored.

Chapter Text

Castiel Novak knew the stained glass saints were staring down at him again. He could feel the shift of their beady black eyes as they stared daggers into him, stared at his body hunched deep in prayer. The kneeler beneath his knees was worn with age and squeaked in protest when he shifted, trying to find any relief from the hard wood and squished cushioning. His elbows rested on the edge of the pew in front of him and with each shifting movement, the emerald beads of the rosary wrapped around his wrists clacked and echoed in the empty space.

“Please, I didn’t mean to…” He whispered, lips moving with a religious fervor as he clasped the beads tighter in his hands. 

A voice echoed from somewhere on Castiel’s right and he squeezed his eyes shut harder, lips beginning to tremble. The voice was soft and gentle but he knew better than to trust the lies of Saint Monica.

“Of course you didn’t, my poor child.” 

She loved wayward children, loved their vulnerability and their naivete. They needed a gentle hand to guide them into the future, a kind and caring figure to teach them right from wrong but Monica wasn’t like that, not in Castiel’s experience. She was nothing but a vampire preying on innocence and fear, feeding on the children and their pain until they were nothing but shells of their former selves.

“It’s hopeless for you, Castiel. You’re nothing but a lost cause.” Came another voice from somewhere to his left, this one deep and echoing with unimaginable sorrow and bone deep exhaustion. 

There was a cold hand on Castiel’s shoulder and he was tensing underneath it, the tin and lead of the solder impossibly hot buried between the glass panes. Saint Jude came like he always did, his message of hopelessness and despair barely drowned out by Castiel’s whispers. He was shaking by now, guilt and fear washing over him like waves on the shore. They crashed harder and faster and the rising swell brought more fear with it, the worst making itself known. 

“I didn’t know that it would ruin everything!” Castiel cried, tears slipping from his eyes and down his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had!”

He knew enough to know what was coming now. Saint Jude would grab him by the shoulders and haul him from the pew, throwing him at the foot of Saint Monica’s window. She would wait there, her serene smile cruel and twisted, while Castiel pulled himself to his feet. He’d take a moment within the tornado of fear, a moment of clarity where he realized that none of it mattered and that whatever he did he would be damned. That’s when he would gather his strength and throw himself through the window, shattering glass falling alongside him into the void. 

But something was different this time, something felt off. 

Saint Jude pulled his hand away and Castiel heard the tinkling as he climbed back into his window but that wasn’t the end of things and as a horrific sound echoed in the church, Castiel stared up at the scene in front of him.

The Virgin Mary stood in the window in front of him, a gentle expression on her pale face and the blue of her gown and shroud shining through with light from the setting sun. Her image had changed though, from the previous time Castiel had seen it, and it caught him off guard. Directly left of center on her chest was a stained glass heart, brilliant bloody red light shining through directly onto Castiel’s face. 

“You couldn't have predicted what would happen.” She murmured, glass shattering and steel screeching as she climbed from the window. Her bare feet touched the floor, scraping and scratching at the tile as she stepped forward. There was an unnatural beauty to the way she moved and Castiel was frozen in terrible awe, unable to pray and unable to cry. 

Her frigid hand tipped up Castiel’s chin and then he was staring into the blue glass of her eyes, utterly captivated by the light that shone through. She was beauty and peace incarnate and he wasn’t worthy. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, the rosary slipping from his shaking hands. 

A twitch on Mary’s lips sent the peaceful illusion crashing down around him and her chilliness seeped through right to his bone. Her smile was fake, all teeth and peeled back lips in mock friendliness, and her grip was steadily growing. As her grip tightened, Castiel’s heart began to race and that’s when things changed further.

The stained glass of Mary’s heart was beginning to warp and twist, shard splintering and cracking as something else took over. Red meaty flesh pumped in time with Castiel’s racing heart and his eyes widened in horror, a frightened whimper falling from his lips. 

“My heart bleeds for you, child.” Mary murmured, pulling Castiel onto his feet. “Do you see how you wound me so? Your sins are arrows into my heart and each passing day I feel weaker and weaker.”

Castiel swallowed hard, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto the tiled floor. “I’m trying, I promise. I’m trying to be good!” 

The last thing Castiel registered before he felt his lungs filling up with blood was Mary’s whisper soft voice.

“It isn’t enough, Castiel.”

Cas woke with a cry, limbs thrashing beneath the pile of blankets on his bed. The weight trapped him and sent his racing heart hammering along even faster, rhythm so fast he was convinced it would burst out of his chest if he let it. Sweaty strands of hair stuck to his forehead and temples as he managed to free himself from the mountain of blankets, rolling onto the carpet of his bedroom floor. 

The dream had come back and it was only getting worse with each recurrence. At first it had simply been Saint Monica but then Saint Jude had joined her and now the Virgin Mary had. Cas didn’t know what the dream meant and was almost afraid to try and figure it out, nearly paralyzed with the fading feeling of choking on blood that wasn’t his. The dream could’ve been guilt or it could’ve simply been stress, either way it had plagued him since he had turned eighteen and that was three years ago to the day.

Pulling himself from the floor, Cas was surprised to see that the clock only read 4 pm. His nap after the beginning of his final year of university had only been an hour but it’d felt practically eternal while he was dreaming. He knew his parents wouldn’t be home yet so he scrubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the tears, deciding to brave the kitchen for a cup of lavender and chamomile tea. Tea always calmed his nerves and he found the sound of the water boiling calming but the peace he was expecting was quickly shattered.

There was someone sitting in his kitchen and all Cas had to do was see the long brown hair and the canary yellow blazer to know who it was. His shoulders sagged with relief and his eyebrow quirked when he noticed the steamy cover of the novel she was reading. That wasn’t something his parents would approve of. 

“I didn’t know you were in town, Aunt Amara.” Cas said as he shuffled into the kitchen, hoping he didn’t look as much like a sweaty mess as he assumed he did. 

The older woman glanced up, a smile plastered on her face as she set the racy novel down. She seemed happy but then her eyes were flitting back and forth and her smile was quickly becoming a frown of concern. “I wasn’t going to miss today of all days but you look rough kiddo. Are you alright?”

Cas paused, clearly hesitating. He could trust Amara with anything but the dream felt like it was edging into unknown territory, the kind that brought back the feeling of drowning again. Amara was the kind of woman men were warned about: sharp-witted, sharper tongued, unafraid to speak her mind, and unafraid to be honest about what she wanted and who she wanted. Cas admired her and everything she did. 

“I had a nightmare, that’s all.” he said, making his way over to the kettle to flick it on before he hugged his aunt. “Do mom and dad know that you’re in town and stopping by?”

“They know that I’m in town but the visit was a little spontaneous. I was hoping I’d catch you at home so I could offer to take you out for dinner and buy you your first legal drink.” She grinned, hugging back and letting it linger for a few moments. 

“I don’t think mom and dad would be very happy if I drank.”

“Says the one who’s been drinking communion wine since second grade.” Amara chuckled. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to but I really would love to take you out for your birthday. You only turn twenty one once and it’s been a while so we have a lot to catch up on.”

Cas seemed hesitant for a minute before nodding his head. The alternative to dinner with his very cool aunt was a church service with his parents and after the nightmare he had just had, church didn’t seem all that appealing. Besides, there was a lot to catch up on and he knew he’d have a lot to tell Amara that he hadn’t really told anyone else. 

“Is it okay if I shower first? I don’t think the poor people eating want to see a sweaty anxious university student.”

Amara simply smiled, turning back to her novel while Cas showered and cleaned up. A few minutes and a change of clothing later, he was coming back down the stairs and back into the kitchen. His wet hair was already drying and beginning to curl without the heat of the hairdryer and his outfit was tastefully conservative, the long sleeve sweater and slacks fitting the quiet subdued nature of their wearer. Amara glanced at him before the pair were leaving together, Cas happily sliding into the passenger seat of her nice car. 

“So, tell me what’s been going on with you. How’s it feel to be twenty one? How’s school going, you’re in your last year right?” Amara asked, turning down the volume so she and Cas could chat. 

The car had always been a safe space for the pair and it didn’t seem that Amara wanted that to change. She had heard about Cas’ childhood fights, about his disappointment in school, and his hopes and dreams. It was a judgment free zone, something she prided herself on, and she knew that Cas knew it. The pair had shared countless ice cream cones, late night singalongs driving with the windows down, sleepovers in the trunk under the night sky. Simply put, it was their favourite place to make memories. 

“I’m twenty one, it’s really not that special. Not like I’m turning sixty-five and finally retiring from a workforce and culture that never appreciated my values and skill sets. I basically feel the same as always which is kind of just anxious, guilty, and all around aimless.” He shrugged. “It feels weird being in my last year though.”

“Tell me about it?”

“Well I’ve been there for three years and I’ve really liked it. It’s just been really cool to learn about English and literature and all of that stuff, kind of comforting I guess. Like even if I don’t have a lot of friends, I still have my stories and I don’t need much more than that. I have to start doing my thesis research though which is really terrifying thought because I still don’t have a clue about what I even want to do which is bad because my supervisor and I are supposed to have a meeting about it next Monday and it’s already Thursday.”

Amara didn’t seem all that surprised by what Cas was saying. Her nephew had always been reclusive and shy, something she attributed to the sheltered way her brother raised him and his other siblings. She saw something in Cas though, a flicker of who he could be if he was given the freedom to do so. It shifted and moved under the surface like something under a calm lake, just waiting for the right moment to explode. His lack of friends and awkwardness was almost painful. 

“Well I'm sure you’ll figure something out. You always do.” She said. “Whatever happened to that one girl you were hanging out with, the tall one with all the tattoos and piercings? Dorothy or Thea or Tessa or something wasn’t it?”

“Dorothea, Thea, yeah. She’s good, we’ve been hanging out as much as we can. I mean she’s pretty busy with her last year too, apparently the fine arts are pretty intense in the final year. Something about a ton of projects and critiques and something about a scoby leather canvas which I don’t really understand but she can do whatever she wants I guess.”

“ Just ‘hanging out’ huh? Didn’t peg her for your type but I guess we’re all a little different.” Amara chuckled, putting the car into park. 

Cas’ face flushed a deep red almost immediately, aware enough to catch exactly what his aunt was insinuating. The thought was completely absurd for a multitude of reasons. 

“Thea’s a lesbian so no, it isn’t more than just actual hanging out. She's kind of got a girlfriend, haven't met her but I've seen pictures. She's some kind of hyper redhead or something.” he mumbled awkwardly, cringing at how embarrassed he was. The word felt foreign in his mouth, practically criminal given how outlawed it was at home. His mother knew about Thea and seemed ambivalent enough but Cas knew if his father knew that Thea would never be allowed back in their house. Any word associated with that group was punishable with a mouth washed out with soap. 

“That does make a lot of sense in hindsight.” Amara shrugged, slipping out of the car and towards the restaurant with Cas. “She must have some friends you’re interested in? I’m not trying to pry or make you uncomfortable at all here so I apologize if I am. I’m just interested in your life and you’re handsome so I’m sure plenty of people are interested in my fantastic nephew. I imagine you’re interested in a few people too.”

Cas bit his lip as Amara spoke, wishing he could shrink away and vanish into the ether. The questions were innocent and he knew she meant well but that didn’t mean that he was enjoying it. He hadn’t exactly been honest with himself and he knew it, knew that part of the dreams was his subconscious guilt coming back to haunt him. Whether or not it was because he was or wasn’t acting on his feelings was a different story entirely. 

He remained silent until they were seated at the table and then he was sipping his water, downing half the glass before he was ready to speak. “It’s really complicated.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable with sharing, it’s alright. I won’t be upset with you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just-” Cas paused, staring down at the menu so that he didn’t have to look at his aunt, “I don’t know. You’re not going to tell my parents about anything that we talk about, are you?”

“Goodness no. We both know that I think everything my brother does is wrong and misinformed by his complete lack of understanding his religion and while I think your mother is better, she still has a ways to go. Everything you tell me is between us because I’m honoured you trust me enough to share and be honest. I wouldn’t betray that.”

Cas took another moment to think but was given more time when their waitress made her way back to their table. With their appetizers and mains ordered, Cas knew it was now or never. His heart was racing in his chest and his palms were sweaty as he thought about what he was about to admit. He’d never dared to say it out loud, too afraid someone who knew someone who knew his parents would overhear and rat him out. 

“There is someone,” Cas said quietly. “There’s this guy who’s been in my English classes for the last three years.”

Amara smiled at Cas, leaning in. Her body language was open and inviting, the expression on her face somewhere in the realm of being supportive and wanting to listen. “Is he interested in you or are you interested in him?”

“He doesn’t know I exist so he can’t be interested in me. I’ve never actually talked to him in a personal, I just see him around and sometimes we argue in class.” 

“Well what made you interested in him then? I’d love to hear all of the tea on him. “She smiled. “Please tell me if I used that slang correctly. I just can’t keep up with what you kids use nowadays.”

There was a deeper flush to Cas’ cheeks now, one he couldn’t deny. Relief flooded his veins when Amara seemed genuinely interested and not judgmental but there was still a nagging voice in the back of his head preparing himself for the worst. Something about the excitement of it all was enough to catch Cas in a sharing mood. 

“Well he’s really handsome in this kind of rough and tumble way and he’s got freckles and I think they’re really nice on his face. And then he’s got these green eyes and I only know that cuz we keep making eye contact every time we argue in class. His voice has this like southern twang which isn’t weird because we’re here but it isn’t like an annoying fake one like half the grandmas in church have. I don’t really know if I’d like his personality but I think it would but it also doesn't really matter.”

“Well it definitely sounds like you like him, there’s no denying that. Why haven’t you talked to him yet?” She asked curiously, only pausing when the first of their appetizers were brought out. 

“I can’t exactly go up to him and tell him that I’ve kind of liked him for three years and that I think we should date. I give off sheltered recluse and homebody and there’s no way of knowing if he has a girlfriend or boyfriend or if he even likes guys. I mean I think he’s single because I heard him saying something to one of his friends about a breakup but that kind of got eclipsed by the party they’re going to tomorrow night.”

Amara reached for one of the broccoli cheddar bites and let her silence linger for a moment. Talking about this was monumental for the pair and she was trying to gauge Cas’ reaction to see what she could get away with saying. 

“Why don’t you go to the party? All it take is an accidental ‘oops I bumped into you’ to start the conversation. It really doesn’t have to be anything more than a conversation.”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t like parties and I just- if it does turn into something more, I can’t.”

“And you can't, why?” She asked, already knowing the answer but knowing it had to be said out loud.

Cas could barely bring himself to answer, grateful when the waitress interrupted with their meals. It wasn’t a secret and he knew his aunt knew but it was one thing to know it and something else to say it out loud. His dream came creeping back into his mind and the spike of fear was enough to kickstart Cas into action. Maybe action would break the hold the dream had on him.

“Because it’s wrong, according to my dad and everything we believe in. They say that people aren’t supposed to be like this, that it’s wrong and unnatural and against his will. Mom doesn’t believe that, not really, but I don’t have anyone else to really turn to. If Hell is real, I don't want to go there when I die.”

Amara didn’t say much in response, allowing another moment of silence to fall in between them. Her heart ached for Cas and his situation, all too familiar with the beliefs of her brother and just what he was willing to do to keep them. 

“Aunt Amara?” Cas asked quietly, nerves kicking into overdrive. “You haven’t said anything.”

“There’s a lot I have to say but I just need a little time to figure out how to say it.” She said honestly, running a hand through your hair. “The first thing you need to know is that I am so so happy that you shared this part of your life with me and that you’re so comfortable with me that you wanted to share. I have some other things to say but I don’t know how you’ll feel about them.”

“You can say them. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat until you do.”

Knowing she had Cas’ consent to speak and knowing he was willing to listen, was enough to get Amara speaking. She was candid and honest with Cas, the kind of gentle advice she so often gave her wayward nephew when he was struggling. 

“I don’t believe in God, you know that, but if I did I certainly don’t think he would send you to Hell for loving someone. Everyone says that God is perfect and infallible and that means that he doesn’t make mistakes. If he doesn’t make mistakes then that means that he didn’t make a mistake in creating you and everything about you, including who you have feelings for.” She said gently. “There is no shame in having and wanting to explore those feelings. There’s nothing wrong with allowing yourself to live a full life and it is absolutely possible to live your fullest life while still believing in your religion if you want to. Religion and queerness are not mutually exclusive.”

Cas’ heart beat in his throat just as it had in the nightmares that plagued him but something was different. The beat wasn’t constricting, it wasn't racing like it wanted him dead, but instead raced as if it were a child running through the summer meadows. Amara was kind and gentle and she wasn’t condemning him to Hell either. It was leaps and bounds above his father and it helped him. 

“How can I explore it if I don’t even know where to start? And home isn’t a safe place to explore it either.”

“You can start simple, sweetheart. Start by saying hello to the hot guy from English. All that does is open up an opportunity and it gives you a chance to maybe make another friend if dating isn’t an option any more.” She said, allowing that to end the conversation so that they could finish their dinner. 

The pair ate in silence and the queasiness in Cas’ stomach settled as he digested the food and the advice. Maybe his aunt was right, maybe it was worth giving it a shot. His father would never understand and his mother would just be confused but maybe it would keep the nightmares at bay. Anything was better than the saints trying to kill him, even if it meant taking a leap of faith into the dark abyss of the unknown. 

They ordered dessert to go when their meal was done and Cas was still ruminating by the time they made it back to Amara’s car, turning to her as they were getting situated in their seats. He seemed hesitant as he glanced at her but there was a hopeful glint in his eyes as he asked Amara the question he wanted to. 

“I think I want to go to the party after all. Will you help me with that?

~

“There is an acceptable amount of cups in a post-breakup depression chamber and this is not that.”

Charlie Bradbury’s voice rang out through the room as she leaned in the doorway of Dean Winchester’s bedroom, his roommates Benny and Lee hovering behind her to try and get a glance into the room that had been hidden behind the closed door for three weeks. 

Maroon curtains blocked out the natural light and the iced coffee cups scattered about his desk and coffee table seemed to form a decaffeinated army ready to defend him. A mountain of blankets covered Dean and Charlie cringed, knowing just how much Dean liked feeling like he was being buried alive. Stepping past a pile of hoodies and jeans, Charlie sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back from Dean’s head. Dean was exhausted, dark bags underneath his red puffy eyes and he only seemed to muster enough energy to glare at Charlie. He pulled the blankets back up to under his chin but rolled onto his back, deciding the ceiling was better to look at than Charlie or his friends. 

“Leave me and my cups alone, they’re fine where they are.” he mumbled defensively. “You’re interrupting my wallowing in self pity time.”

“Well you’ve had three weeks of it and we’re kind of getting worried. It’s not like you to not even bother going to class and I get that you’re upset but isn’t this a little excessive?” Charlie frowned. 

That was enough to draw out more emotion from Dean and he huffed as he sat up, blankets falling from his body in a heap on the bed. He hugged his legs to his chest, hotdog pajama pants peeking out from beneath a black hoodie far too big for him. The look had long since fallen from stylish and was now somewhere in the crusty should’ve been washed days ago category. 

“I’m entitled to moping around and being sad after a three year relationship ends because she was cheating on me the entire time.”

Charlie knew Dean was right but that didn’t make the situation any better and she sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve been there, Dean, so I get it. You’re allowed to be sad and mope around but you have to start picking yourself up sometime and there’s no better time than the present.”

“I think I’m just a bit too impulsively self destructive right now to try and be a human being again.” he admitted, rolling out of bed for the first time that day. 

“Come get a piercing with me then.”

Dean paused, eyebrow raised at the statement that had just come out of left field. He was used to Charlie’s flights of fancy and had no doubt she was going to get a piercing regardless but her invitation didn’t make sense. His silence invited Charlie to explain more.

“You’re feeling gross and awful and pain is a good distraction from that. You get a burst of pain which might help you clear your head and then you get a cool piercing afterwards that gives you a new confidence. Trust me, it works.”

“You just want to see your girlfriend again.” Lee said, the first thing he’d said the entire time. “Do you really think Dean wants to be around a happy couple right now?”

“I live with you and Benny in case you’ve forgotten. Can’t really escape the happy couple shit.” Dean muttered. “Give me like fifteen to shower and change and then I’ll come with. I’m out of coffee so I need more anyway.”

Charlie nodded in response before she pulled the boys out of Dean’s room so he could get ready in peace. Benny and Lee didn’t seem particularly pleased with Charlie, Lee’s arms crossed defensively over his chest. 

“Do you really think getting him to go out is the best way to help him? Because I think he’s gonna get overwhelmed and frustrated and then be even less functional than he already is. Seeing you and Thea all happy isn’t going to make him feel any better about Lisa.”

Charlie shook her head in disagreement. “I’ve been friends with him since we were six, I know how he thinks and I know exactly what I’m doing here. Piercing gives pain to clear his head, the jewelry gives him confidence he needs to get out of the slump, and it gets him to leave the apartment. Besides, Thea knows someone that’s going to make this worth it.”

“If you think it’ll work, then fine. Just be careful with him, I think this is affecting him more than he’s admitting.” Benny sighed. “We’re gonna do a clean of the apartment while he’s gone, maybe cook something we know he likes. A little mood boost or something.”

Dean’s door opened a few minutes later and he was exiting in a faded shirt and jeans, hair wet and spiky. He looked marginally better but no one said anything, Charlie simply taking his hand and pulling him out of the apartment so they could find her car in the lot next to the residence building. Her car was easy enough to spot, a small compact car with a bright yellow paint job. It was an eyesore and Dean felt physically pained every time he slipped into the passenger seat, quietly grumbling that they should’ve taken his car instead. 

“I got one of the guys to take notes in lin alg for you so you’re covered there for all of this week. Don’t know anyone in the English classes though so you’re on your own for your lectures. All that stuff’s in my bag if you wanna grab it later.” Charlie said, gesturing to her bag before they took off. “Have you talked to your mom about what’s been going on? She might be able to make you feel better.”

Dean shook his head, staring out the window at the cars they passed. “She’d just get worried about how I was doing and then ask if I wanna come home and I’d say yes if she asked. But I don’t want to go home, not when Lisa’s stuff is still in my room and half of what I have reminds me of her. And she’s already worried enough about Sam right now. He’s trying to keep his grades up, has his heart set on some crazy expensive college way out of state that there’s no way in hell we can afford.”

“Money’s still tight then?”

“That’s a fucking understatement.” Dean muttered, almost laughing. “I don’t want to get into it right now but yeah. I’ve got to pick up more shifts and mom’s been working double shifts and overtime as much as she can. Sam’s got a job too but it doesn’t really pay much. Still helps though.” 

“I’m sure you guys’ll figure it out, you always do. How are you doing though? With the whole Lisa thing.”

Dean simply shrugged in response. He could tell Charlie that he was devastated and he wouldn’t be lying but saying that he was relieved also wouldn’t be a lie. It was a peculiar sensation, being relieved and horrified that a three year long relationship had come to a bitter grinding halt. He’d loved Lisa but part of him knew she had never felt quite the same, like they were staring at their relationship through a funhouse mirror that told them both different things. She’d seen him as a placeholder and the safe option and when she was done with being safe, he was out the door and on his own. 

“I’ll get over it eventually it’ll just take some time. I’m thinking that maybe I should just have a hoe phase for a while cuz I did lose out on three years of it here.”

“I support that.” Charlie nodded, pulling into the parking lot of the shop. “You’re hot, you’ll have no issue finding someone to take to pound town. Thea knows someone who you might be into, some kind of English nerd or something.”

“I appreciate the offer but I kind of have someone that I’ve maybe sort of had my eye on for like three years. There’s this guy who’s been in some of my classes and I don’t think he’s dating anyone so I was gonna maybe try to feel things out when I get feeling a little better about the breakup. Anyways, know what you’re getting pierced?”

“Her nipples, that’s what the appointment sheet says.” Camera familiar voice as the pair entered the shop. 

Dorothy Baum, or Thea to everyone who knew her, was Charlie’s girlfriend of two years and the newest piercer at Eve’s Garden Tattooing and Piercing. She was behind the front desk when they entered, her shaggy brown hair freshly dyed black and her usual chipped black nail polish replaced with a lacquered maroon colour. 

“Your hair looks good, I like the new cut.” Dean smiled, stepping back to let Charlie forward so she could kiss her girlfriend. His heart panged with a bitter sadness but despite that, he was happy to see the pair happy and affectionate. 

Thea smiled back at him, the sort of smile that Dean knew masked sympathy at his situation. “Thanks! I thought it was time for a change and I’m feeling a little more 70’s punk right now. How have you been? Don’t think I’ve seen you in a few weeks.”

“Eh, fine other than being cheated on and ending a three year relationship.”

“Damn dude, that’s really awful. I’m sorry to hear that.” Thea frowned. “You here for an impulsive slightly self destructive piercing then?”

Dean nodded his head, turning slightly to glance at all of the jewelry options in the case next to the front desk. Barbells, hoops, rings, a million kinds of jewelry stared back at him and he didn’t know which of them he liked the most. He hadn’t even thought about what kind of piercing he wanted, it wasn’t like he knew the names of most of them. 

“Any clue what I should get? Cuz I don’t know the names or where they are but I want something. Ear preferably but not the lobes, don’t think my mom would be happy if I did that.” Dean said, turning back to Thea. 

“I gotchu, don’t worry. I’ll give you a helix, it’s the one right here.” She said as she gestured to her ear, showing Dean the little ghost resting near the top. “It’s pretty common, heals easily if you don’t sleep on it, and it really isn’t that painful. Got any idea what jewelry you want?”

Dean shook his head again.

“No worries dude. I’ll take Charlie back and get her all done so you have more time to think about what you want.” Thea said, turning away to take Charlie over to her station.

The jewelry stared back at Dean and the more he studied it, the more he felt called to a specific piece. A titanium dagger with a black jewel sat in the case and the more he looked at it, the more meaning it seemed to take on. It was a cool enough piece to begin with but it also symbolized the way his old relationship was dead. The time to cut off his emotional baggage and leave it behind was now and there was nothing better to do that with than a dagger. 

There were a few giggles that echoed and Dean had no doubt that Charlie was laughing at something Thea had said or done, some kind of innuendo they would no doubt prove or disprove later that night. The pair were incredibly cute together and Dean was happy to see them so comfortable with each other, unable to stop the smile on his face when Charlie returned with two new piercings and a dark lipstick mark beside her mouth. 

“You got a little something on your face.” Dean chuckled, rubbing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. 

Charlie flushed as red as her hair and quickly rubbed the lipstick away, staring shyly at the floor instead of at Dean. Thea only shook her head before she brought Dean back to her station, getting him to sit on the bench. She had her tray with everything she needed and got it situated, offering him a small smile.

“You know which piece of jewelry you want in your ear?” She asked, pulling out the box containing the pieces. 

“The dagger, that’s the one.”

Thea grinned and pulled that piece out before grabbing a marker and leaning in to mark a dot on Dean’s ear. “That’s a badass one, it’ll look great on you. Take a look in the mirror, tell me what you think of that placement.”

Dean got up to check the mark in the mirror and when he was satisfied with it, he returned to the seat. He felt the alcohol wipe and then he felt the needle pass through the cartilage of his ear quickly. It was sharp pinch for just a moment before Thea was quickly sliding in the jewelry, making sure it was secure and the bar was long enough to prevent issues with the swelling.

“See, quick and easy to do.” She said, dabbing the little bit of blood away. “Before you head out, I’m gonna bring something up to you. I don’t know how you’re feeling about the whole breakup thing and what I’m about to say isn’t me trying to rush you or offer you something you don’t want but I’m gonna offer anyway. I have this friend and I think you’d like him a lot. He’s this nerdy little guy in the English program, super sweet and kind of hot if you like dudes. If you want, whenever you feel ready to get back out there, I’d love to hook you guys up. But only if you want.”

Dean paused, unsure of how to react. She was just giving him an option for when he wanted to put himself back out there but even that felt daunting at this point. A hook up he could do but the sounds of Thea’s friend gave him more dates and romance than hookup and his heart wouldn’t be able to handle that. Dean knew he needed a rebound first, some quick casual encounter before he would be able to entertain dating again. 

“I’ll let you know if I’m ever interested, thanks. Thanks for the piercing too, I appreciate it.” He said before heading back to the front, both him and Charlie paying and tipping well before they left. 

It was only when they were both back in the car that Dean spoke again, his brooding silence broken. “I think I need a casual hookup. I’m not in the mood for dating but it has been a while since I’ve done anything sexual and I think that might be a good distraction for me. Any idea if there’s parties or anything other than the one happening tomorrow night?”

“Just the one tomorrow night, haven’t heard anything about the weekend yet.” Charlie replied. “Are you gonna go tomorrow night then? Cuz I was gonna go and I think the boys were too. It’s like a three minute walk from campus so no need for anyone to dd or anything.”

“Yeah, I think I’m going to go. I still don’t feel great but I can’t let that get in the way of me trying to live my life. Wanna get ready with me tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah I’d love to.” She grinned. “Looks like we’re back in the party business, Winchester.”

For the first time in three weeks, Dean felt the first spark of life stirring in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter Text

“Dude, I know that the academic English teacher meets repressed religious nerd is your aesthetic but how do you not have a single fun t-shirt? Or a pair of jeans. Like seriously man, you’re killing me.” Thea groaned, head buried deep in Cas’ closet. 

She had been rooting through his clothing for the better part of forty minutes and while she’d found several pieces to make cute class outfits, there was absolutely nothing suitable for the party they were planning on going to. Long sleeves, slacks, cardigans, everything was cute but horrifically stuffy. 

Cas lay on his bed, beet red with embarrassment. “Blame my dad for it, alright? He’s the one who says we have to dress modestly and that graphic tees are the way to let the devil in.”

“Did he actually say that?” Thea asked, eyebrow raised as she glanced back at Cas. 

“Well, no… but he might as well have. He’d have a heart attack and probably die if he ever saw us hanging out together. That’s kinda why we don’t hang here when he’s around.”

Thea shrugged her shoulders in response before peering closer at Cas, the gears in her head turning. She approached and shifted Cas so she could get a better look at his upper half before turning away and rifling through her bag. Digging past the lipstick and eyeliner in her bag, she reached for the baggy spare t-shirt she had and then tossed it at Cas. 

“Try this on. It’s an xl and you’re like a medium or something.”

Cas didn’t argue and slipped his other shirt off, sliding into the t-shirt. The fabric was comfortably worn down and when he got up to check it out, his eyebrow shot up. Plastered across the front of the shirt was a graphic of medusa, the words ‘lesbian bed death’ placed directly underneath them. Cas’ face flushed almost immediately and he looked helplessly at Thea.

“I don’t think this is going to do me any favours.” He said, tugging at the hem. “It’s baggy and looks kind of weird with these pants. I don’t think it’ll look good with the jeans I have.”

“You've had jeans this entire time and haven’t pulled them out? You gotta stop holding out and let me do my thing. I can’t make you hot if you don’t let me.”

Cas shook his head before crouching down to pull the jeans out from under his bed. “I’m not trying to look hot, not really. The guy will be there and he’ll see me or he won’t, that’s it. And it isn't like I know what I’m doing anyway. I haven’t exactly done much.”

“On a base level, what are you defining as not much?” Thea asked, plunking back on Cas’ bed. “And you look great in the jeans and the t-shirt. It's effortless casual and you’ve got that skinny body that makes baggy look good.”

“I don’t even know what bases you’re talking about so none.”

“Not even a kiss?”

Cas shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Not even a kiss. I’ve seen it done in movies and obviously my parents are affectionate but I’ve never done it. It just- it looks messy and kind of complicated.”

Thea didn’t make a joke or laugh at Cas when he admitted to being a virgin in every sense of the word, instead nodding her head. It wasn’t his fault he was so sheltered and naïve, that his parents had ensured he wouldn’t know much of anything. But that’s why she was there and she smiled, pulling Cas close.

“It’s easy, I promise. All you do is pick a lip on the other person’s face and sort of put your lips around it.” She explained. “You’ll figure it out once you start and don’t worry about that whole thing about your first kiss having to be special because it literally doesn’t have to be. Charlie and I first kissed in some scungy stairwell and it didn’t really seem special or groundbreaking at all.”

“Good to know, thanks.”

“Any time. Now come on, finish putting on your pants so we can leave.” she hummed, rolling out of his bed. “I’m gonna be your gay fairy godmother tonight, promise. Help you find your handsome prince charming from English.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like so how are you gonna help?”

Thea simply grinned and looped her arm around Cas’, pulling him out of his room and out of the house. He’d find out the answer soon enough. 

~

Dean’s room had always been the space to hang out in his apartment and Friday night was no exception. He’d managed to clear away the empty cups and scrounge up enough loose change to do the laundry that had been staring at him for close to a month, completing his chore chart in the process. There was an open bottle of tequila by the time Charlie made her presence known and she paused in the doorway when Dean appeared, scanning him up and down. 

“You’re pulling out the big guns tonight, I like it.” she grinned. “You’ve got your obscenely tight flannel, your obscenely tight jeans, and obviously your boots. Must be your hoe phase coming into effect.”

“The flannel is a normal tightness, not my fault the garage makes me muscular.” Dean replied, sipping at the concoction he’d made himself several minutes ago. “And yes, it is my hoe phase. I need a rebound and to not be sexually frustrated any more.”

“Tired of your right hand?” Benny teased as he and Lee made their way into the room, dressed in their comfortable party clothes.

“I alternate hands, thank you very much.” Dean laughed.

Charlie shook her head, expression of disgust on her face. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with all of you. You’re kind of gross."

“We don’t hit on you and we listen to all your nerd rambles, that’s why.” Lee said, sliding down beside Charlie. “You’re gonna find a nice dark spot with Thea tonight and I’ll find one with Benny and then poor old Deano is gonna be all alone.”

“Or he’ll have some blonde all over him on the dance floor. He’s got the fuck me fit on and probably way more tequila in his system than he should. It’s a recipe for a wildly good time or just a straight up disaster.” Benny said, taking a swig from his beer. 

Dean rolled his eyes in response before he reached for Charlie’s bag, rifling through it to pull out the highlighter that had been buried in the bottom next to the french vanilla chapstick. She didn’t have a lot of makeup but she did have that and Dean knew it worked like a charm. Ladies loved a man who had a little sparkle, perfectly explained by Edward Cullen and his gaggle of pale faced family members. 

Charlie watched Dean try not to say something in response, deciding she wanted to pull out a drink and join their merry party. “You have your eye on someone already though, don’t you?”

“If he’s there then yeah, I kind of do.” Dean nodded, the quick flash of blue eyes and dark hair running in his mind. 

Benny and Lee shot each other a look, Lee deciding to push Dean’s buttons a bit. “This wouldn’t be that imaginary hot guy from English that none of us have ever actually seen before, would it?”

“He won’t be so imaginary when I’m out getting my dick sucked later so shut up.”

“Okay okay, someone’s a little testy.” Lee mumbled as he threw his hands up in fake surrender. “Just do us a favour and let us know when you’re coming back, just in case we’re a little busy here. Don’t really want to traumatize your poor ears with that.”

“Hate to break it to you two but both of us have heard you multiple times so our poor ears are already traumatized.” Charlie chuckled, pausing to take a few deep swigs of her cooler. “And I know that you’re all about to say you’ve heard me and Thea and I don’t really care. I am not ashamed that I have a very healthy and complex sex life with my amazing girlfriend.”

Dean took a massive sip of his drink to disguise the look of pain on his face at that particular comment, trying not to show his friends just how upset he still was about Lisa. They were trying to joke around and cheer him up and while he did appreciate it, it still made him sad. He knew a rebound probably wasn’t the best idea but a physical distraction from the emotional pain sounded almost too nice. 

Downing the rest of his strong mixed drink, Dean felt the alcohol beginning to work. Warmth was spreading through his chest and stomach and he could feel the faint flush on his cheeks as well. He knew before too long that walking and, subsequently, talking would be difficult to manage. 

“Well,” he said as he rose from his seat, “I think I’m ready to head out. So hurry up and finish your drinks so we can leave. I’ve got someone hot to find.”

~

The smell of sweat and cheap beer hit Dean’s nostrils before the vibrations of the speaker playing some god awful top forties song went through his bones. Throngs of people danced in the living room and the sound of bouncing pong balls echoed from the kitchen and Dean had the sudden thought that he really didn’t want to be anywhere near the noise and hormones of horny young adults drinking and trying to have a good time. He went to turn and head for the door only to feel Charlie’s hand close around his wrist. 

“I know that look, Dean, and you cannot puss out now that you’re here.” she said, pulling him down so she could talk into his ear without having to yell. “No one’s saying you have to stay all night but give it an hour. You can leave after that if you don’t wanna stay, you just gotta tell me so I can leave with you.”

Dean sighed but nodded his head, shifting so he could talk to Charlie. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and knew his own smelled similar but it did little to stop the queasiness building in his stomach. There was a feeling building in it, something caught in between dread and excitement. Every hair seemed to stand on end, his flesh prickling into goosebumps. A strange energy floated through the air and while he didn’t know what would happen, he knew it would be life changing. 

“Okay fine, one hour.” he grumbled. “I’m getting another drink, I’m way too sober for this shit and I swear to God I just saw the top of Lisa’s head.”

“Want me to fight the bitch for you? Cuz I will and I’ll kick her ass while I’m at it.”

Dean snorted in response, shaking his head. Charlie was always quick to jump to violence but her fuse was shorter when she drank and he knew she was being serious. She never joked about Lisa. 

“No, don’t waste your time if it is her. You said you wanted me to have a good time so I’m gonna try. There’s king’s cup so I’m going to play, gonna see how drunk it gets me. Maybe I’ll be able to strike up a conversation after, I dunno.”

“There’s the Dean that I know but I see my girlfriend so I’m gonna go drag her to dance. See you in like an hour, good luck!” Charlie hummed, squeezing Dean’s arm before she was turning and weaving through the thick crowd of people back to Thea who had made it to the party. 

Dean found his way into the kitchen, a decidedly quieter place than the rest of the house, and reached for an empty cup. Loading it up with tequila and some orange juice, he took a long swig to try and settle his nerves. Tequila was a quick comforter and the warmth in his throat seemed to soothe his jittery nerves as he slipped into the circle of people playing king’s cup on the kitchen island. 

He knew the rules well and was quickly caught up in the game, laughing and chatting with the random strangers as the music continued to play in the background. It was more than easy to forget his troubles and anxieties when everyone else around him was just as seemingly drunk, carefree, and happy as he was. The game progressed and Dean became the unlucky loser of the game as he drew the final king, unsure of whether or not to be grateful he would be drinking more alcohol. He drank it quickly, the mix of different alcohols immediately heightening the queasy feeling in his stomach. Dean turned with the half full cup in his hand, fully planning to either dump the alcohol or throw up into the sink, but the universe seemed to have other plans. 

He felt the front of his boot catch on the grout of the tiled kitchen floor and then he was flailing forward, the cup flying from his hand. Dean caught himself before he fully tripped but was too late to catch the cup, watching helplessly as the cup hit the chest of the person who’d been in front of him. All he had to do was take a half second glance at the guy before he was flushing red, eyes wide in surprise and dawning horror. 

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry.” he stammered, setting the cup on the kitchen counter before reaching for the paper towel roll. 

Cas, who had simply been in the kitchen to grab a can of pop, was too busy staring at Dean to notice the alcohol soaking through his borrowed t-shirt. He’d known the other boy was supposed to be at the party thanks to Thea but actually seeing him, being close enough to smell that he’d been drinking, was something he hadn’t entirely counted on. Cas’ heart was beating rapidly in his chest and the rush that ran through him when he felt Dean’s eyes on him was enough to stun him into a state of paralysis. 

“It’s you,” Cas murmured, the nickname coming before he could stop himself. “You’re chocolate milk guy.”

Dean froze in place, eyes widening and hand clutching the paper towel stopping right over Cas’ heart. He couldn’t believe his ears and couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“I’m sorry but what did you just call me?”

It was Cas’ turn to flush red as he realized what he had said, taking a step back to get some space in between himself and Dean. The party was already overwhelming him and this was the shitty plastic feeling icing on the stale walmart cake. He knew he could backtrack and pretend he hadn’t said anything but that would just start an argument. Not that the alternative was much better either because admitting what he had said would incite even more conversation. 

“Chocolate milk guy.” Cas admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t actually know your name but you’ve been in a bunch of my English classes and in the one you drank like a gallon chocolate milk so we wouldn’t have to write the exam. It was kind of memorable.”

“It’s not my fault that the only good drink at the vending machines outside Fraser is chocolate milk. Sometimes a guy just needs a drink in the morning before critical theory and pedagogy.” Dean chuckled, turning to toss the used paper towel in the trash. “I really don’t like that I’m known for that but to be fair, you kind of have a nickname in my head too.”

“You know who I am?”

Dean nodded his head, shifting to lean against the kitchen counter. Clearly their conversation would be continuing and it wasn’t something that he was upset about. “Well yeah. You sit in the second row in the third seat right in front of the blackboard and you’ve always got that leather messenger bag in the seat next to you. I don’t know your name either so I’ve kind of just been calling you gay Frankenstein guy.”

“Oh my God, that is horrific.” Cas mumbled, shaking his head. “I think you just call me Castiel instead. Pretty sure my God given name is better than gay Frankenstein guy.”

“Okay, I can do that but only if you call me Dean. Sounds nicer than chocolate milk guy. Really sorry about your shirt, I tripped and honestly didn’t see you. The kitchen is kinda dark.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, not all that upset that the obviously not his shirt was soaked in some kind of alcohol. The fabric was sticking to him though and he must’ve made an uncomfortable expression because Dean was suddenly pulling off the flannel he was wearing and then Cas was met with a set of muscular arms. His heart sped up as the warmth returned to his stomach and before he could really register that Dean was talking, he was pulling the wet shirt off and slipping the flannel on. It was too big on him but Cas didn’t seem to mind, enraptured with how soft the fabric was and enraptured with the boy in front of him. 

Dean turned slightly to let Cas change, unable to stop the feeling spreading through him when he saw the boy in his flannel. The attraction was undeniable and Cas’ deep gravelly voice was enough to stir something deep in him, something brought closer to the surface by the alcohol that was finally beginning to affect him. 

“So, Dean, what exactly are we supposed to be doing here? I’m not a party animal, my friend kind of convinced me I should show up and then she ditched me for her girlfriend.”

“Drink, play drinking games, dance, it’s all pretty much on the table. Get in the right mood and then maybe a good makeout.” Dean shrugged. “I just want to drink more and forget my shitty ex girlfriend who’s apparently.”

Cas frowned, lips pursed together. He’d overheard the conversation about the breakup weeks ago but hearing it from Dean was something else entirely. Not that Cas knew him well but he didn’t seem like the type of person to cause a messy breakup. There was an unspoken tension slowly building as Cas mulled over his options, the warmth in his stomach only growing the more he leaned next to Dean. It was impossible to think straight and the words left his mouth before he registered it. 

“I’ll dance with you, as a distraction of course.”

Dean raised an eyebrow but pushed himself away from the kitchen counter, unable to stop the flirtatious grin as he felt the dizzying weightlessness in his limbs. “Didn’t know you swung that way.”

Cas shrugged in response, not trusting his voice to keep him out of trouble. He felt more and more tongue tied the longer he spent with Dean and as they wove through the crowd of people towards the living room and music, the more Cas wished he had drank when he first arrived. There was no way in hell he’d be good at dancing and the fact it was with Dean only made him more nervous. He’d pushed down the feelings as much as he could but there was no stopping them now that he’d let them out of the cage. 

“Never said I did.” Cas said simply, planting his feet on the hardwood of the living room floor. 

“Well you do know that party dancing isn’t regular dancing.” Dean replied, closing his eyes for a moment as he registered the beat of the music. He was ready to dance and began to move to the beat, though he kept his hands to himself and a slight distance from Cas.”

The song changed and then Cas couldn’t hear Dean any more, the music taking over his ears. Bass thudded through the speakers and through his bones and Cas didn’t have the foggiest idea about what he was supposed to be doing with his body or his hands. Glancing around at the others on the dance floor, Cas was more than a little alarmed. Hands roamed bodies, mouths attached themselves to necks, and people ground against each other with reckless abandon. It was enough to stun him and then he felt Dean lean in, felt the hot breath against the side of his face as Dean spoke into his ear. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, hand resting on Cas’ shoulder for balance. 

Cas shivered under Dean’s touch, face flushing with embarrassment. He wanted to back out and then get the hell out before he did something stupid but he was curious too and that side won out (as it usually did). 

“No, not really.” He replied, turning his own head so Dean could hear him. “Sorry.”

“S’alright. I’m a really good teacher if you want to learn.”

Cas knew enough to know exactly what Dean wanted with the offer and the flirtatious tone. Every alarm in his head was ringing but he didn’t seem to care, nodding his head. If a hot guy who actually knew his name wanted to dance, then why not. By his father’s logic, he was already going to Hell so he might as well do it with some style. 

With Cas’ nod, Dean got to work. He put his hands on Cas’ hips and pulled him closer, not quite pressing them fully together. His hands were still in a respectable place but Dean wasn’t in the mood to be respectful, hands itching to go just a little further down. Leaning back in so he could explain what he was doing, Dean took a moment to reassure himself that this was okay. He and Lisa were over and Cas was a willing and hot guy. There was nothing wrong with getting a little attention. 

“You want to feel the beat of the music and move with it.” He explained, gently tugging at Cas’ hips to guide him in his movements. “Doesn’t have to look pretty. Move against the other person, kind of opposite of them. Get close and get handsy.”

Taking a deep breath, Cas stepped off of the cliff and landed in the deep. Immediately he was aware of the bass thudding in the room, of the friction between his hips and Dean’s. It was intoxicating, the body heat and movement through the denim, and then Cas registered Dean’s hands. They slid up his sides and around his neck and then the two of them were dancing.

It was easy to give into it, Cas’ body knowing almost instinctively how to dance. He sought Dean’s hips and then his chest, hands pulling Dean close by the small of his back. Cas didn’t have to be drunk for this, Dean was more than capable of making him feel good and giddy. Dancing was exhilarating and the warmth had spread through Cas’s veins, damn near fire with how much he wanted Dean. His eyes flicked up to Dean’s face and then down to his lips, quickly looking away as a pang of shame ran through him. 

Dean had just broken up with his girlfriend, he still had to be sad. Was it wrong to be doing this with him when he was probably still upset? Cas figured it was probably wrong to be doing at all, his father’s voice echoing in the back of his head. You’re going to hell it told him and the anxiety was enough to ruin the magic, Cas suddenly unsure of everything. 

Dean saw the glance, his own desire blooming, but felt the hesitancy and suppressed a frown. He wasn’t shocked that Cas was hesitant, the other boy did seem shy and reclusive, but Dean knew he had to be at least a little curious. They wouldn’t have been dancing if he wasn’t. He made the executive decision to step away but leaned in to speak. 

“You look overwhelmed, need some air?”

Cas nodded and that was all Dean needed to grab his hand and drag him outside. The patio was full of people smoking so Dean turned and found them a relatively private spot by the shed, leaning against the siding. His face was flushed and the cool night air seemed to relieve some of it, though it did little to relieve the tension or the constriction in his jeans. Cas took several minutes to try and regain his composure before he was even able to look at Dean again, eyes still bright with excitement and mouth still tight with anxiety. 

“I’m sorry, I completely just ruined what we had going on in there.” He apologized, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s just a lot and I’m not experienced which is so embarrassing to admit and then you’re hot and I’m getting very flustered right now.”

“It’s cool dude, we all start somewhere. If you don’t want to dance any more and you want me to fuck off, that’s fine. Just let me know so I can find someone else before the alcohol wears off.”

“No, no. That's not it.” Cas said hurriedly. “You’re gonna think I’m some like stalker or something but I’ve kind of maybe sort of thought you were cute since first year and I’ve just never said anything. Then Thea told me about your breakup and said you’d be here and I thought maybe I’d show up too but I don’t know what I’m doing and this just feels weird now that I’m saying it all out loud.”

A wide grin appeared on Dean’s face as he turned slightly, still leaning against the wall as he faced Cas. “You’re Thea’s cute nerdy English friend then. I’m best friends with her girlfriend, she offered to set us up if I wanted. Guess this is her way of doing that so I’ll have to thank her.”

“Oh, I guess it’s a small world then.”

“Yeah, it is. And for the record, I’ve noticed you for a while. You’re cute but I didn’t know if you were into dudes and I was kind of dating someone.” Dean said honestly. “Not dating her any more though so…”

“Why’d you break up?”

Dean knew the break up question was coming but it still slammed into him when it did appear and he winced as if he’d been hit, the alcohol not enough to dull the pain that bloomed. It was a reasonable question and of course Cas would be curious but that didn’t mean Dean wanted to talk about it. He sighed in response, shaking his head. “The long and short of it is she cheated but I really don’t think that matters any more. Look, I’m glad we met and that we’re talking but I really just want to makeout with someone and forget about her for a night. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything though, so don’t feel obligated. I just want a rebound.”

Cas glanced down at the ground, swallowing thickly. He’d thought about this scenario a million times, the chance to kiss the cute guy from English a staple fantasy of his, but now that the opportunity had presented itself he was unsure. There really wouldn’t be any consequences if he gave in to temptation, nobody had to know what they were doing. But somebody would find out, someone always did, and that was dangerous. 

“I’m down.” Cas said quickly, swallowing the protests before they could rise up and out of his mouth. “I’m so down.”

Dean pushed off the side of the shed, expression shifting. It was almost teasing now, a mixture of excitement and amusement at Cas’ sudden switch up. He turned on his feet, closing the gap between them as he pressed Cas against the shed. It was hard enough for Cas to feel the pressure but not enough to trap him, Dean conscious of it despite the alcohol in his system. 

“Yeah?” Dean hummed, face inches from Cas’. “Think you’re ready, Castiel?”

With his heart hammering in his chest like a frantic hummingbird, Cas took a final breath and pressed his lips to Dean’s. 

Cas quickly found that what he lacked in experience, Dean more than made up for. It was strange at first, the feeling of someone’s lips on his but that was quickly replaced by a million other things. Dean’s lips tasted like cheap alcohol and it made Cas’ nose burn but he barely noticed it when he felt Dean’s hips press against him, a steady press like when they had danced. There were hands running up his chest and his sides and Cas didn’t know where to focus, his own hands flat against the shed. 

“You can touch me.” Dean murmured against Cas’ lips, one hand on his hip and the other pressed against the shed next to his head. “Please do.”

Cas mumbled something unintelligible before he was seeking Dean’s lips out again, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him close. He knew what his parents would say, how they would cry and berate him for daring to break their rules and engage in something this risky. Especially because it was a boy. But Cas didn’t care about their warnings, didn’t care about much other than the lips that had moved to his jaw. 

If this was just what kissing could do then Cas wanted nothing more than to find out what else there was to do. 

The noise of the party had long since faded away and all Cas could think about was Dean. He finally let his arms slip away from Dean’s neck and then he was touching him, hands sliding down the muscular chest and trying to map a route he'd always remember. Shifting under Dean pressed their hips closer together and then Cas was groaning, suddenly aware of just how badly he wanted Dean. 

Faced with his own want for the first time in his life, Cas panicked. 

He pushed Dean away, despite his body aching to pull the other boy close again, panic clear in the lines of his face and the way his chest heaved. His eyes were wide and wild, bright blue in the dark of the night and Dean took a step back with his hands up in the air. Scanning Cas’ face, Dean tried to figure out what he’d done wrong and nothing seemed to come to mind. 

“Cas?” He asked softly, unaware of the nickname. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, I- I have to go.”

With a stammered apology and shame looming over him like a tsunami wave, Cas pushed past a confused Dean and vanished back into the crowd of people in the house.

Chapter Text

Cas couldn’t think straight as he pushed through the crowds of people in the house, mumbling a few halfhearted apologies as he elbowed a few people on his way out. His heart was pounding in his chest, shameful thoughts running amok in his brain, and his face felt like it was on fire. There was a phantom tingle on his lips, a reminder of what he had been doing, and he frantically wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he stumbled outside. 

Cas felt dirty. It ran across his face and his skin and the shame was burrowing deeper and deeper into his body the longer he was anywhere near the same place as Dean. He knew, deep down, that there was nothing wrong with what he’d been doing but that did nothing to erase everything else. Cas had liked it but more than that, he’d wanted Dean. And that terrified him. 

There was a rush of cool air as he made it out of the front door but his escape was thwarted when a familiar voice called out for him, hand closing around his wrist to stop him. 

“Cas, hey! I haven’t seen you all night.” Thea said, pulling him to stop on the driveway. She was smiling and swaying slightly, the smell of alcohol wafting on her breath. 

Cas turned, quickly turning his expression into as neutral as one as he could manage. Thea didn’t need to know what had happened but she was observant and Cas hadn’t been quick enough, watching her smiling expression falter. 

“You’re upset about something, what happened?”

Cas shook his head, pulling his hand away. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. I’m just tired so I’m gonna go home.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced by Cas’ wooden performance. He was a lot of things but he wasn’t a very good liar, not with his tells. If it wasn’t the defensive body language that gave him away then it was the twitch of the muscles. She’d always been able to read him and it was clear that this emotion was stronger than it had been for some time. His face was red and his lips a little swollen and while Thea wanted to know just what he’d gotten up to, there was a time and a place to ask and it wasn’t now. 

“Okay, well have a good night then. You’ve got my number if you wanna hang on the weekend and if not, see you on Monday.”

Cas nodded his head and waited for Thea to disappear into the crowd before he made a beeline for his car, roaring away from the party when he felt relaxed enough to drive without killing someone on his way home. The clock only read eleven pm and while he knew it wasn’t late, he knew he’d have to sneak back in if he wanted to avoid his father asking questions he really didn’t want the answers to. The drive, while no more than fifteen minutes, did the opposite of relaxing Cas like it was supposed to. His radio had fritzed out and the roads were dead silent which left him with nothing to do but think.

All Cas could think about was Dean: the way he had smiled and laughed as if he’d shared a joke with Cas that no one else would understand, how soft the flannel still wrapped him was, the way Dean had pressed him into the side of the shed. He couldn't stop the fire spreading in his belly, the phantom touch leaving goosebumps on his skin though Dean was far from him by now. There was no escaping the feeling, the want, that dirty sinful need Cas had to be wholly possessed by someone as unearthly and beautiful as the boy from English. 

By the time Cas made it into the house and up the stairs into his room, he was suffering. He was hot and sweaty and the only thing on his brain was that he regretted running away from Dean. The shame and guilt would hit him in the morning but he’d long flown past caring at this point, quickly closing the door to his bedroom. Sidestepping a stray book on his floor, Cas lowered himself onto his bed. 

“Just go to bed, you know you’re tired.” He mumbled to himself, crawling under his covers. All Cas wanted was to sleep and he tried his best but it just didn’t work. Between how uncomfortable he was and how much he couldn't get Dean out of his head, He knew there was only one guilt inducing solution.

“It’s fine, you’ve done this a million times before. Just go to confession and get forgiven after.” he mumbled to himself, kicking the covers off before unzipping his jeans and tossing them aside. Cas wiggled out of his boxers and then he was face to face with himself and his desires, taking a deep breath to commit and follow through.

Lotion in hand, Cas closed his eyes and gave in. The first stroke drew a soft groan from his lips and he shifted slightly, hand wrapping around the shaft. He’d touched himself before but this felt different, full of intent. Cas imagined it wasn’t his hand moving but Dean’s, bigger and rougher and all the more satisfying. He called to mind how Dean’s lips had moved on his, how his hips had pressed in harder and faster, and just how good it had felt. Cas began to twist his hand, thumb swiping over the head on the upstroke and another groan ripped itself from his throat.

“God…” Cas choked out, speed of his hand increasing as the fire in his belly grew. 

Even if he had wanted to stop, Cas knew he wouldn’t be able to. Something was possessing him, a deep seated desire that had risen from his soul and taken over his body. He felt far away, like he was floating on a cloud of bliss high above his body. A shadow seemed to wrap itself around his body as he stared at himself, hand curled around him as he grew closer and closer to the edge. There was a spark of fear but it vanished quickly when Cas couldn’t take it any more, too close to the edge. 

He slammed back into his body as he came, biting through his lip as he tried to muffle his strangled moan. His chest rose and fell quickly as he blindly reached for his boxers, wiping his hand on them and then cleaning himself up. All he had to do was laundry tomorrow and no one would be the wiser. His mouth tasted like iron and Cas knew it would hurt the next day but that didn’t seem to matter all that much as the blissful cloud began to dissolve. 

As the bliss died and the throbbing in his lip made itself known, so did a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something hadn’t been right and he swore the shadow was real but it couldn’t have been, shadowy figures didn’t exist in anything but stories. 

The simple thought that he may have started something he didn’t want to continue plagued Cas as he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

~

Dean stood there in the dark for several minutes as he tried to clear his head and recapture the thoughts running rampant in his head. Everything had been totally fine, had been better than fine actually, until it wasn’t. Cas had seemed into the makeout session so it made no sense that he would suddenly freak out and run away like he did. 

His head was swimming with thoughts of Cas as he headed back towards the house, the buzz of the alcohol fading. He could still feel the phantom tingling of Cas’ lips, could practically feel his hands ghosting across his chest, and Dean knew if he moved the wrong way it would be painfully obvious how much he’d been enjoying his time with Cas. Even worse, Cas had his favourite flannel and had run off wearing it. Preoccupied with his thoughts, Dean barely registered that he had run into someone until he was staring at Charlie.

“Well hey there stranger,” She grinned as she reached out to grab Dean’s hands to dance. “It’s been more than an hour, how’s your night been?”

“Confusing and weirdly disappointing. I’m going home.”

Charlie frowned, letting go of Dean’s hands. “But you were dancing with some guy and you looked like you were having fun. What happened to him? He would’ve made a good rebound for you.”

“We were making out outside and it was fine but then he got all freaked and ran off. Dude has my favourite flannel too, I kinda spilled alcohol on him earlier. I just want to go to bed so I can forget about all of this and try not to be hungover tomorrow.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I promised my mom I’d visit this weekend.”

“Well Benny and Lee are back at your place I think, they kind of left pretty early. Want me to stop by after you visit your mom so we can chat tomorrow?”

“Up to you I guess but have fun with Thea tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Except you do like everything.” Charlie chuckled. 

Dean only smiled back before he turned on his heels and left. 

The air was almost cold as he began the short walk back to campus, goosebumps popping up on his arms. He missed his flannel and part of him was more than a little irritated that his not so imaginary English crush had run off wearing it. Benny and Lee would be in the middle of God knew what when Dean got back and he knew he’d have to sleep with earbuds or earplugs, a fate far more preferable than being forced to listen to his best friends fucking for most of the night. Charlie would be with Thea and the notion that everyone he cared about was hooking up, really just made Dean feel worse about all of it.

“Guess it’s just you and me tonight, buddy.” He sighed, high fiving himself and cringing at how pathetic it seemed. 

True to his expectations, he heard the noise the second he opened the door to his residence apartment. They weren’t in the kitchen this time, a welcome relief as Dean scanned over the dishes that would have to be done the next day, but they were in Benny’s room and that was the one closest to Dean’s. He could hear the drunken laughs and when he heard the first of the telltale moans, he immediately closed his bedroom door to try and muffle it. 

Dean glanced down at his hand and briefly entertained the idea of jerking off but quickly decided against it. The thrill of kissing Cas had faded on the walk home and the thoughts of his roommates enjoying the company of other people while he only got himself was just too depressing. Instead of that, Dean simply changed into his pajamas and crawled into his bed. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep but his dreams were anything but peaceful. 

Dean was pressed back against the shed, the siding rubbing against the back of his shirt and bunching it up. There was a strong pressure pinning him to the shed, the long lean line of a body grinding and pushing against his with an animalistic desire. He could feel the strong hands pinning his above his head and then he was groaning as a pair of lips trailed down his neck. His eyes were closed and he didn’t dare open them, legs threatening to buckle out from under him when he felt a hand slide into his pants. 

“Cas, god…” he groaned, tilting his head back as best as he could.

Dean assumed it was Cas given the scenario that was occurring and he was okay with it, more than okay really. The hand in his pants was palming at his steadily hardening dick and he bucked up into the touch, hands straining to break free from where they were pinned. He heard the other boy chuckle, a deep chuckle that didn’t quite seem to fit, but the doubt dissolved when Dean felt the first scrape of teeth over his neck. 

“You want this badly, don’t you?” The other boy purred, the voice seeming to echo as if it was  neither here nor there. Alarm bells rang in Dean’s head but they seemed dim in comparison to the hand slipping into his boxers to palm against his heated flesh. 

“God, yes.”

The boy chuckled and let go of Dean’s hands to pull his jeans down, letting them pool around his ankles. He pulled his lips away and spit into his hand before his lips were back on Dean’s neck and then his hand was wrapping around Dean’s dick, a long slow stroke ripping a moan from his throat. Everything about it was calculated and Dean was quickly falling victim to it, wrapping his arms around the boy’s neck.

His skin was cold, cooler than it should’ve been, and Dean nearly opened his eyes to take a look and savour the moment. He was interrupted though, by the long drag of teeth down his neck and the wet lips kissing at the hollow of his throat.  

“You’re doing so good.” The boy praised, his voice deeper than it had been before. 

Heat bloomed deep in Dean’s stomach and he nearly swooned but the alarm bells were doing the opposite of quieting. Something didn’t feel right, something apart from the fact it was a sexy dream to begin with, and Dean really didn’t want to look any closer than he had to. There was a hot guy stroking and kissing him so there was no need to look closer at his impossible deep voice or his impossibly cold skin or the nagging feeling of danger sitting deep at the base of Dean’s spine. 

“Tell me you want me.” He whispered, breath warm against Dean’s jaw. 

Dean swallowed hard, tangling a hand in the boy’s hair. “I want you.”

Another smile against Dean’s jaw and then there was a soft nip at his neck and his legs were buckling, his legs hitting the ground as he took the boy with him. They hit the ground and then the boy was on top of him, pinning his hands in the grass and straddling his torso. He was impossibly heavy and Dean couldn’t move, could barely breathe. Dean tried to shift, to get a chance to breathe better, but he was stuck right where he was. 

There was another pause before the boy spoke again, voice rumbling like thunder as his massive hands seemed to swallow Dean’s up. 

“Open your eyes, Dean and tell me that you’re mine. Seal this deal.”

The words left Dean’s mouth before he could stop them, eyes opening and widening in terror at the sight in front of him.

“I’m yours.”

Chapter Text

Dean’s Saturdays were a carefully penciled in budgeted part of his weekend, the kind of penciled in budgeted part where there was no free time before four pm and no free time after eleven pm. He woke up at seven like he usually did, stretching his arms as he yawned. There was a particular heaviness in his chest as he moved and he questioned it. It was more than likely just remnants of the strange dream he’d had but that didn’t feel particularly comforting. 

A warm shower and a change of clothing later and Dean was ready to go, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he braved the kitchen. Benny and Lee were nowhere to be found and Dean relaxed when he knew he’d been able to avoid the pair. They were more than a little insufferable after they did anything and while they were cute, it was the last thing Dean wanted to deal with. He tossed a few stray wrappers into the  garbage before slipping out of the apartment and heading towards his car. 

His first stop of the morning was exactly the same as it had always been. 

Black and white tiled floors echoed under his feet as he crossed the threshold, stepping past some monsteras and elephant ears as he made his way to the front. A few patrons sat at wooden tables with their laptops and the steam from their coffees rising in the air while others gossiped over freshly baked flaky croissants. Rise and Grind was the best café in town, a family run business with local sourcing and the best damn bagels Dean had ever had in his life. 

The girl at the front counter was already grinning by the time Dean got to the front, her brown eyes glittering with their usual mischief. Her perfectly manicured nails were already inputting the order and she took the money Dean handed her, knowing the change he was due was ultimately going to end up in the tip jar. 

“Ever going to try a new order?” she asked, hands moving rapidly as she spoke. It had been a challenge at first, trying to judge whether or not Dean was going to be a customer angry with her for using sign language, but he’d ended up trying to learn enough to make her comfortable with him.

Dean shook his head, fumbling a bit as he signed back. “Mom and I like what we like. How’s school, Eileen?”

She offered a quick shrug in response before she was turning her back to him, expertly prepping the drinks he’d ordered: a dark roast coffee with honey for him and an elderberry hibiscus tea for his mother. Another worker, someone new Dean didn’t know yet, had gotten to work on the food and it arrived just after the drinks. Collecting everything, Dean offered Eileen one final smile and then he was back out the door by eight thirty. 

At nine he was pulling into the driveway of his home away from school, the impala rumbling to a stop. Mary would be expecting him so the door would be unlocked and she’d already be sitting in the kitchen, an empty coffee mug holding the remnants of her day off wake up coffee. What Dean didn’t expect was for someone else to be sitting in the kitchen chatting with his mother and he froze in the doorway.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The visitor glanced up at the sudden voice, blinking for a moment. Her brown eyes scanned over Dean and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, offering him a friendly smile that felt far more antagonizing than it was likely meant to. It didn’t matter much because Mary was turning around, her eyebrow raised at her son in displeasure with his language. 

“I felt like visiting Mary, that’s all. Well that and you still have some of my things.” The visitor replied, hands clasped around a mug of coffee. “She was going to help me go find them but since you’re here, maybe you can help instead?”

Dean set the food and drinks down before running a hand over his face, his mood quickly souring. “I’ll help you find your shit but then you get the fuck out. Sound good?”

She simply shrugged before getting up from the kitchen table to follow Dean upstairs and to his bedroom. His bedroom at home was the same as it had always been, walls decorated with vinyl sleeves and movie posters while a guitar and stacks of sheet music sat in the corner. His bed rested against one of the walls, side tucked directly under the window and he watched as she sat down and made herself comfortable. 

“We have some good memories here in this bed.” She mused, stretching out. “I do miss how comfortable it is.”

Dean rolled his eyes, biting his tongue against a rude retort as he turned towards his dresser. “What exactly did you leave here?”

“A few sweaters, a pair of jeans, probably a bra or two. Pretty sure I also left some lotion and one of my bracelets.”

“Your lotion and bracelet are in the top drawer in the table next to you.” Dean said flatly, returning to digging through the drawer with his pants. His hands were beginning to shake but he couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness causing it. 

She shifted to rummage through the drawers, finding the jewelry and lotion right where Dean had said it would be. “There’s no need to act so cold. We’re not exactly strangers, you know.”

“What sweaters did you leave here, Lisa?”

Lisa sighed and pulled herself up from Dean’s bed, padding across the floor. She slid her arms around Dean’s middle, invading his personal space and pressing against his back. “I miss you, I miss us.”

Dean tensed when he felt Lisa’s arms around him, swallowing thickly. It was instinctual the way he wanted to turn and lean down to kiss her but his brain knew better than that, knew better than to give in to the one who’d betrayed his trust. His heart was hammering in his throat as he turned and he forced himself to take a deep breath before he finally looked at Lisa. 

“You’re the one who cheated and threw away the three years that we spent together, not me.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.” Lisa mumbled, frowning as Dean pulled away from her so he could rummage through his closet. 

“Except it is.” He replied, throwing her jeans and sweaters onto the bed. “Pretty sure that walking in to see some other guy balls deep in you is considered cheating and throwing away three years. Also pretty sure it’s even worse when it’s something you’d been doing for months, not just one time. I’m not an idiot, Lisa, I knew it was happening.”

“It was a mistake, alright? We’d been together so long, I just- I wanted to know what it was like to be with someone else for a night. It wasn’t supposed to keep going and you weren’t supposed to even know it ever happened.”

“That makes it so much worse!” Dean hissed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “If you love someone, you don’t cheat! If you were that bored with our sex life or that curious about being with someone else, that’s something we could’ve talked about. I am open to trying things, you more than anyone know I’m not some scared prude who can’t even handle vanilla.”

“I was scared to talk to you about that! Everything everywhere tells women we aren’t allowed to have desires and I know you’re good about that but it doesn’t mean that I was comfortable. I fucked up, I know I did, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you and that I ruined us. I regret it, Dean.”

Dean shook his head, sour mood only growing. Running into Lisa was one thing but she was trying to apologize and it looked like she meant it too, judging by the tears that were welling in her eyes. He could smell her perfume and looking closer at her, it was easy to see that she hadn’t been sleeping well. Part of him was thrilled she looked awful, she deserved it for what she had done to him, but part of him felt awful too. Trying to turn off three years of love and emotional investment was nearly impossible. 

“There’s nothing you can do to change what happened. They haven’t exactly invented time machines yet.” He said bitterly, dropping onto his bed. “I’d really like it if you could just grab your shit and leave. I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

“I would but you still haven’t looked for the bra I swear I left here.”

“Didn’t see a bra in my drawers or my closet so it’s probably not here. You’ve got a million bras, how am I supposed to remember which specific one you left here?”

Lisa couldn’t stop the small grin on her face as she sat down next to Dean, shifting to pull her t-shirt off. The move was calculated and intentional, an emerald green bra and a chest he was very familiar with suddenly staring Dean right in the face. She reached out to rest her hand on Dean’s upper thigh, looking him in the face with an expression he knew all too well. 

“One more time, just for old time’s sake? Don’t think it’ll hurt either of us.” She murmured. 

Dean swallowed thickly, staring everywhere but at Lisa’s face. He knew better than to give into temptation but his body was practically screaming for her, for anyone really. One more time really wouldn’t hurt either of them, but Dean knew he’d be flamed to Hell and back by all of his friends if he gave in. 

“Lisa, I-”

Lisa cut Dean off before he could finish, her lips pressing against his. They were as soft as he remembered and despite every rational thought in his brain screaming at him to stop, Dean didn’t listen. His hands came up to rest on the sides of Lisa’s face as he kissed back, feeling her hands sliding down his chest. 

Lisa murmured something unintelligible as she climbed onto Dean’s lap, tugging at the hem of his shirt before pulling it off. The kisses were deep with a hint of desperation, the kind of kiss Dean knew was meant to be seductive and full of need. She was warm against his body but he seemed less and less sure as he dragged his hands down her sides, the soft gasp echoing in his ear the final step Dean needed to be sure.

“Stop.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably under Lisa. “I don’t want this.”

Lisa frowned, climbing off of Dean. Despite her intentions of sleeping with him and winning hi back no matter the cost, she wasn't going to continue if he told her to stop. “What do you mean you don’t want this? It’s been weeks, you have to want something.”

“I want you to get out and leave me alone, that’s what I want. I’m not interested in trying to fix things so just grab your shit and get out. And do me a favour, don’t visit my mom again. It’s fucking weird.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue, pulling her shirt back on before grabbing her things and leaving Dean alone in his room. Dean let out an aggravated sigh before laying down on his bed, face shoved into the pillow as he willed himself to keep calm. Anger and sorrow bubbled up in his throat and he wanted nothing more than to scream himself out of frustration and into oblivion. He felt the bed dip a few minutes later and then there was a hand rubbing his back. 

“How long have you and Lisa been broken up for?” She asked, sitting cross legged on Dean’s bed. 

Dean rolled over when he felt Mary’s hand on his back, smiling tiredly at his mom. “Three weeks. She cheated and I found out and we broke up over it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. I know she meant a lot to you.” Mary frowned. “Maybe it is better you two are split though, especially if she was willing to do that to you. Surely you’re going to try to get out of the slump eventually.”

“I’m too busy to really have anything casual and I don’t know if I really want a relationship. Something kind of happened last night and I’m a little confused about it still.”

Mary raised an eyebrow in response, urging Dean to continue on. 

“So I went to a party cuz I felt obligated and there’s this guy that I’ve sort of noticed in my classes for like the last three years and he’s kind of really cute.” Dean admitted as he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “We got to chatting and then it turned into making out and then sort of handsy stuff but he got all freaked out and ran off. I don’t- clearly I did something wrong but I don’t even know what. And it sucks because he really is hot and I really maybe have been crushing on him for longer than I should be.”

“Maybe it was just very overwhelming for him? Not everyone has a lot of experience or is as gutsy as you are, dear. Lord knows your father wasn’t when I met him.”

Dean sat up just a little bit straighter, suddenly intrigued by the avenue of conversation. It had been seventeen years since his father died and in all of that time, Mary had only ever spoken about him four times. He’d only ever asked about John once but the second he’d seen the misty far-off look in his mother’s eyes, Dean had decided he wasn’t going to ask about it again. 

“What do you mean by that?” he asked curiously, trying not to come across as too eager. Any piece of information about his father was better than the hazy half memory he barely had. 

Mary couldn’t help but smile a bit, shifting to wrap her arm around Dean. “I was a bit of a wild child in college, make no mistake. I had freedom away from my parents and I went a little nuts with the partying when I wasn’t studying. Your poor father was at one of the trade schools studying auto mechanics and we completely met by accident.”

“It was a party wasn’t it? Some homecoming or something probably.”

“Technically it was after homecoming but yes.” She chuckled, absentmindedly rubbing Dean’s arm. “I was stumbling home and he was biking home from a late class when he plowed me right down on the street, couldn’t see where he was going I guess. Poor thing was so flustered, it was kind of adorable.”

“I can’t picture dad getting flustered. He always seemed so put together.” Dean said as he settled down, intrigued by where the conversation was going. All of this was entirely new information for him and while he didn’t really see how it was useful, he was grateful Mary was sharing with him. 

“Well, I was in a very short tennis skirt if that helps. That and I had a habit of topless sunbathing on my parents' corn crib which wouldn’t have mattered if your father hadn’t been the cute delivery boy I'd seen for years while at home.” Mary chuckled. “All that to say that your father was very flustered and inexperienced when we first started going out and fooling around. It’s totally normal to be flustered is all I’m trying to say. I think your friend may have been in the same boat that your father was.”

Dean nodded his head, deciding to lean against Mary. “Yeah, I guess it probably was a lot to deal with. He’s kind of a quiet guy and I think he might be a little religious and I guess I’d be freaked out by that stuff too.”

“Just take it slow, sweetheart. Talk to him and get to know him before you two decide to try anything else.” She suggested, turning slightly so she could kiss the top of Dean’s head. “You’re still young, there’s no point in trying to rush anything.”

Dean nodded again, giving Mary’s words a few minutes to really sink in. He could see the numbers on the clock changing and knew he’d have to leave soon if he wanted to make the half shift he’d promised his boss he’d do that day. But questions still lingered and nagged at Dean and he knew he only had time for one more question.

“Why haven’t you tried to date anyone since dad died?” He asked quietly, unsure of how the question would be received. 

Mary tensed for a moment but forced her shoulders to relax, twisting the wedding band on her finger as she so often did. She’d known the question was coming, it was one everyone had been asking for years, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It would be easy enough to brush it aside and ignore Dean’s curiosity but there was also the chance that the answer would help him with his own dilemma. 

“I think that there is a once in a lifetime person for everyone in this world, a soulmate if that’s the term you prefer.” Mary began. “This person completes you in every way possible and impossible, they are your second half. Your father was my second half and I won’t ever find someone who makes me feel like that again. I felt better than I ever knew was possible when I was with him and I don’t want to sully that memory by getting back out there. I’m perfectly happy to spend the rest of my life reflecting on what I had and being content with that.”

“Do you think Lisa was my other half?”

Mary shook her head. “If you have to ask, the answer is no. Look sweetheart, you’ve got your entire life to figure out who you are and who you’re going to love so there’s no need to put all this pressure on yourself to figure it out at twenty one. Take it slow and have a good time, alright?”

Dean nodded before he threw his arms around Mary in a tight hug, trying to control his breathing to avoid a particularly nasty stream of tears from leaving his eyes. He felt her arms wrap around him and they stay there for a few minutes before he pulled away, trying to ignore the burning in his throat. 

“I have to go to work, I promised Uncle Bobby a half shift today. I’ll stop by afterward if that’s alright, just to see Sam and catch up with him.” he said as he stood up, pulling his shirt back on. “Enjoy your day off, mom. Make sure you take care of yourself.”

“I will, don’t worry. There is a bubble bath with a glass of wine waiting for me a bit later in the day. I love you, have a good day at work and good luck with your cute boy problems.”

“I love you too, mom.”

~

Expecting to feel the full crushing weight of guilt and shame when he woke up, Cas was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a distinct lack of it when he finally opened his eyes. He remembered what he had done the night before, fiery touches and phantom kisses wisping through his brain and across his skin, and it both delighted and terrified him. The flannel thrown haphazardly over his desk chair practically taunted him as he rolled out of bed and he reached for it instinctively, bunching it up with the leftover clothing on his floor. 

“Guess I’m doing laundry this morning.” He mumbled to no one in particular. 

It was about eight according to the clock in his room so Cas knew his father would be out dealing with ministry things until noon. His mother would be in the kitchen like she was every morning, sitting at the kitchen table with her cup of tea and the morning crossword in the newspaper. She would undoubtedly look up at Cas when he came into the kitchen and smile before asking him how he slept and if he was hungry. 

Grace Novak was nothing if not average and boring if you asked Cas. She wore the same modest combination of long skirt and baggier sweater or long pants and unfitted shirt every day and her hair was always back in the signature braid that ended somewhere down the middle of her back. Her voice was soft and pleasant and her personality mild but steadfast. Cas blamed his father’s domineering personality for that but the man had shaped him too and Cas knew he was a bit of a hot mess. 

Stepping out of his room and into the hall, Cas readjusted his laundry basket and prepared his responses ahead of time; ‘last night was good, not much happened’, ‘how was your night with dad’, and ‘has aunt Amara come to see you yet’ all sprang to mind. He sidestepped the squeaky plank at the top of the stairs and padded down them, planning on slipping past the kitchen and heading directly to the laundry room. It was the voices coming from the kitchen that stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“You have to tell him, tell them . You know you can’t keep hiding it.”

Cas knew the voice but he couldn’t quite place it, his curiosity piquing as he crept closer to the kitchen. 

“I know, I’m doing it soon. Just- please.”

The second voice was unmistakably his mother’s and Cas raised an eyebrow, almost close enough to peek through the kitchen door. He heard a faint reply and then he finally peeked past the door and into the kitchen, eyes widening. 

His mother sat on the kitchen table with her back towards the door but that wasn’t what shocked him. Her long hair was free and tumbling down her back, baggy oversized sleep shirt shoved up her legs and up against her hips. There was a hand gripping the table and then another hand in a head of dark hair that certainly didn’t look anything like his father’s. He stared almost numbly as a head suddenly reappeared, only able to see the movement of the jaw as the lips trailed up his mother’s neck.

“What the fuck…” He whispered, frozen in place and unable to tear his eyes away.

The spell was broken as Cas saw a hand on the back of his mother’s neck, a feminine hand with immaculately manicured nails. There was a moment of silence before he heard a soft breath and then he was watching a woman kiss his mother, watching his mother kiss back with abandon. He felt like a pervert watching something he shouldn’t be seeing but all of that was crushed by the concerning rage when he saw the mystery woman’s face. Cas made direct eye contact with her as the laundry basket fell from his hands, crashing onto the floor and spilling. 

“What the fuck?!”

The pair stopped almost immediately, his mother pushing the shirt back down her legs before turning around to face Cas. It was unmistakable how much she had been enjoying whatever had been going on, face flushed and eyes glistening. She looked like she was trying to say something but nothing was coming out, her voice caught in her throat. 

The second woman was busy fixing her button up, trying to cover herself and push her hair out of her face. She pushed her hair out of her face and then Cas was directly facing his Aunt Amara, watching her trying to figure out exactly what was happening. 

“Cas, wait…” she called as she tried to hike her pants back up, voice cracking from use. 

Cas stared at the pair of them for a moment before he turned on the heels of his feet and practically fled out of the house. 

His heart pounded so hard in his throat he thought it would tear through the skin and the blood roaring in his ears made him deaf to anything except the betrayal and the horror coursing through his veins. With shaking hands he yanked open the door of his car and then he was sliding inside, racing out of the driveway and away from what he couldn’t believe was real. Cas didn’t know where he was going at first, just that he needed to go somewhere, and the familiar roads of town all seemed to blur the faster he drove. It took about fifteen minutes before Cas had the sense to stop, pulling off to park just in front of the church he and his family went to.

“Always a church.” He mumbled to himself, anxiously rubbing his hands together as he thought about his next move. 

Pastor Jim was less than a minute away and he’d always been a support for Cas in times of trouble but this problem didn’t feel like a religious one either and he didn’t think Pastor Jim needed to know what his mother had been up to. He reached for his phone and didn’t hesitate to call the number he always called. It took a ring or two but soon enough Cas was hearing his best friend’s voice.

“Hey Cas, you don’t normally call me on Saturdays. What’s up?”

“I’m freaking the fuck out.” He admitted, voice an octave higher with anxiety. “I really need to talk to you, in person.”

A pause before Thea spoke again, her voice rife with concern. “You never swear, so this has to be serious. I’m at Deadly Delights right now, the place on Talbot Street. Think you can meet me there?”

“I’ll see you in ten.”

Stepping into Deadly Delights Apothecary was like stepping into an entirely different world. Plants adorned tables draped in hand dyed and crocheted lace covers, black walnut shelves housed books Cas hadn’t even heard of, and that didn’t even include all of the products displayed everywhere else. Tapestries of women and moths hung on the wall and the crystals sparkling in the sun caught Cas’ eye as he walked inside, their tumbled surfaces smooth against the pads of his fingers. 

Thea was in front of the counter chatting with a woman Cas had never seen before, a redhead with mischievous eyes and an apparent affinity for flowy dresses. The pair glanced his way when he entered and Thea’s smiling expression quickly shifted when she noticed just how upset Cas looked. She ushered him over, turning away from the woman for a moment.

“I would say it’s good to see you but you look really upset dude.” She sighed. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

Cas swallowed thickly, glancing over at the woman behind the counter. She seemed intrigued, like she was studying Cas intensely, and the sudden feeling that he was prey in an uncontrollable situation was beginning to plague him. 

“Not in front of your new friend or co-worker or whoever this lady is.” He mumbled, turning slightly. “My name is Castiel, Cas, by the way. I’m Thea’s best friend.”

The woman paused, eyebrow shooting up. “As in Castiel Novak, kid brother of Gabriel Novak?”

“How do you know my brother?”

She smiled again before lifting her hand up to show Cas the engagement ring on her finger. It was all the explanation needed but Cas was still shocked. He hadn’t spoken to Gabriel in months, practically years at this point, and even when they had spoken before that his brother had never mentioned dating a woman much less getting engaged and married to one. The information was almost too much at once and he looked like he was going to explode. 

“You look very overwhelmed right now, so sorry I added to that.” She apologized, glancing back at Thea. “You two can chat in the back room, I don’t mind. I’m fairly certain Gabriel’s back there doing inventory so just be wary of that.”

“Come on.” Thea murmured, taking Cas’ shaking hand before pulling him through the shop and into the back room. 

A single table and a few chairs occupied the space that wasn’t full of boxes and shelves and Cas was quick to grab a chair, hoping sitting would make the claustrophobic space easier to deal with. Time hadn’t helped him figure out his emotions or what he had seen and the thought of running into one of his older brothers, albeit his favourite brother, was enough to stress him out even more.

Thea sat down opposite to him and simply folded her perfectly manicured hands, resting them on the table. “You don’t have to talk right now if you’re stressed out, don’t worry. We can just sit here and chill for a bit, I know Rowena won’t mind.”

“How do you know her exactly? And did you know she was engaged to my brother?”

“She sells cool shit, I decorate my station at work with it. I do like crystals and herbalism and her skin products are literal magic, I swear. Like her tattoo balm is life changing.” Thea explained. “As for the whole engagement thing, I knew she was engaged but didn’t know it was your brother. In case you don’t remember, I haven’t meant any of your family at all. She just uses his first name so not really any connections to make here.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. He was upset with Thea over the Gabriel engagement but he knew it wasn’t her fault and that the anger was really just misplaced. She just happened to be the only one he felt like talking to right now. Trying to explain to Thea what he had just witnessed felt almost impossible and he wanted nothing more than to bang his head against the wall.

“Is the issue here about what happened at the party or is it about something that happened after here?” She asked, trying to guide the conversation. “Because you seemed upset when I ran into you but I was also drunk off my ass so I could just be guessing too.”

“Both, sort of.”

Thea nodded her head, trying to urge Cas to explain. There was only so much guessing she could do.

“I met your mystery friend at the party and he was kind of as hot as you said he was. He sort of spilled a drink on me and then gave me his flannel and then we sorta flirted and I guess one thing led to another because we kind of ended up making out outside behind the shed.” 

“Hell yeah dude, get it.” Thea grinned. “Why is that an issue though?”

“It’s an issue cuz I got freaked out about it when he got a little handsy and then I ran away like a chicken. It’s also an issue cuz I couldn’t get him out of my mind and then I had to,” Cas paused, flushing red, “take care of it. I usually feel guilty about that and I was feeling guilty about it but then I walked downstairs this morning and I cannot unsee what happened.”

Thea began to ask for more information but the door handle was turning before she could and then, just like Rowena had said, Gabriel was stepping into the backroom with a clipboard in one hand and a thick hot pink binder in the other hand. The only thing about him that had changed in the few months since Cas had seen his older brother was his hair, now longer and curling towards his shoulders. Gabe had always been short, almost shrew-like, and the only brother of his that he could kind of tolerate without wanting to hit or run away from. He paused, surprised to see anyone in the back room but even more surprised to see Cas sitting there looking mildly horrified. 

“Why are you sitting in the back room of my fiancée's spooky new age shop as a practicing Catholic and why on earth are you talking with the lesbian customer who’s here so much she basically has a majority stake in the business?”

“Nice to see you too.” Cas muttered. “Kind of in the middle of something important here, don’t need you butting in.”

“He saw something this morning that wigged him right out, enough to swear over the phone anyway.” Thea said, trying to give Gabe some context. She’d met him a few times and she liked him well enough, he was funny on certain occasions. 

“Did mom tell you or did you find out on your own?”

Cas paused, eyebrow raising. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did mom tell you about the affair or did you see something before she had the chance to?” Gabe repeated. “There’s not a lot that would freak you out but that I think would have you questioning a lot of things. I know it knocked me on my ass for weeks.”

“How long have you known?!”

Thea, who hadn’t been expecting any kind of nuclear reveal, was quick to see where the situation was heading. She threw her arm out to stop Cas from shooting up out of his chair and throttling his older brother, thanking the Gods above she had strong enough arms for it. Cas had never been this angry before, not that she had seen, and it was more than a little disconcerting to see her sweet best friend red in the face and shaking. 

“Cas, dude, dial it back a notch or two.” She mumbled, gingerly withdrawing her arm from its position. “You’ve been dropped like a metric ton of shit but I think you should talk to your brother about this considering he knows your mom. I will be right outside and when you’re done, we can meet up again okay?”

“I am not responsible if you find his body.”

Thea rolled her eyes and gave Cas’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before excusing herself, closing the door behind her and leaving the two brothers alone. Cas was simmering with rage and Gabe knew more than enough to leave well enough alone if Cas was anything like their father. Knowing to back off and choosing to back off, however, were two separate things. 

“Okay so you’re upset that she didn’t tell you and that I didn’t tell you and that’s fair. I was really upset when I found out everyone else seemed to know about it before I did too.” Gabe said, setting the binder and clipboard down so he could sit down. “Tell me what you saw and ask your questions and I’ll answer what I can.”

“I saw more of mom than I ever wanted to see in my life, that’s what I saw. Do you have any idea what it’s like to walk down in the morning to do laundry only to find your mom having sex with another woman? All I did was walk past and it was just- they were right there.”

“Oh God, you really did see it all. I only ever saw them kissing.” Gabe said. “Found out probably about five years ago or something like that. Threw me for a loop, I didn’t talk to mom for like two months afterwards. Like I didn’t get how she could do that to dad, how she could do it with his own sister. But then she explained it to me and it made a lot of sense.”

“Five years, Gabriel, five fucking years! I spend the last five years of my life worried about how my only tolerable brother and the only parent I actually love will react to the fact that I more than likely exclusively like dick and here you are with a mystery fucking fiancée and there she is fucking around with another woman! I cannot believe the fucking audacity of all of you!”

Gabriel’s eyes widened in surprise at the admission he wasn’t sure Cas was even aware of but said nothing, letting Cas continue his rant. 

“I have been so full of shame and guilt because of how mom and dad have raised us and here she is screwing Amara behind our backs this entire fucking time, do you not have any idea how much that stings? She’s never claimed to be hateful but not once has she ever defended me when dad’s gotten accusatory and now I don’t even know if Aunt Amara’s defense is because she actually likes me or just because her and mom are fucking.”

“It’s not just because they’re fucking, Cas. There’s more to this.” Gabe interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“So tell me what else there is then.”

Gabe shook his head which only served to stoke Cas’ anger even more. It didn’t make sense he was keeping everything to himself and it wasn’t fair either. Why did he deserve to know more than Cas did. 

“Fine, don’t tell me then. I don’t forgive her and I don’t forgive you. You moved out and promised you’d rescue me from that place and then all you did was drop off the face of the earth! Do you have any idea how many nights I prayed that you’d save me from dad and all of his bullshit. I am losing faith in literally everything that I thought I knew and I just- I do not need to be dealing with this right now.”

“I have spent the last five years deprogramming from the toxic culture dad raised us in, Cas! For my own peace of mind and my own safety, I’ve stayed away from you and mom. Do you really think for a second that I would willingly leave you and mom in a house with that asshole? Because I wouldn’t.”

“You could’ve told me what you were doing.” Cas said, shoulder sagging and anger deflating like a balloon. “Everyone handles me with kid gloves and lies to me and I’m so tired of it.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.” Gabe said sincerely, his expression softening. “I didn’t mean to hurt you and I know mom doesn’t mean it either. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Cas thought for a moment and the only thing he really wanted was to forget everything he’d seen that morning but it was impossible and he knew it so all Cas did was shrug his shoulders. He was still angry but it had died down to a dull flame, replaced instead with the sort of sadness and exhaustion that left a bitter taste in his mouth. All Cas did was shrug his shoulders, leaning back in the chair. 

“Your fiancée seems really nice, the whole five minutes I talked to her. How’d you guys meet?”

Gabe took the sudden conversation switch in stride, grinning down at his hands. “Library at the university. We fought over the same ancient history book and then I managed to ruin a six hundred dollar dress. One makeup dinner turned into more and well, here we are. She really is great though. You find anyone yet?”

Cas shook his head, not particularly in the mood to tell Gabriel everything that had happened the night before. “Not looking right now, too much going on. I just want to get through this year and then move out and be free.”

“I can help you out with that. I know people who know people and all that jazz.” Gabe offered. “I don’t want to be a stranger to you, Cas. You are kind of the only brother I actually like.”

“Let me sort some stuff out and then we can talk later, alright? I think I might explode if we keep talking and I really can’t handle another meltdown right now.”

“Okay, I can deal with that.” Gabe nodded, getting up from the chair. “For the record, Thea is a sick chick so I approve of that friendship. Also, just try to give mom a chance when she inevitably tries to talk to you later tonight.”

Cas didn’t bother responding beyond offering Gabe a tight smile before he was slipping out of the back room and back into the main part of the store, quickly spotting Thea chatting away with Rowena near a stack of crystal obelisks and towers. He sidled up to her and waited for their conversation to end before he let her know he was fine but that he was heading out for a drive to clear his head again. Thea offered to join like Cas figured she would but he declined, simply wanting to be alone so he could process all of the new information before it overloaded his brain. 

Cas managed about a half hour of aimless driving before he found himself needing a break from it. He wanted nothing more than the comforting embrace of his bed but he wasn’t prepared (and didn’t know if he ever would be) to face his mother or lie to his father’s face so that was out entirely. In the end, Cas ended up where he always did when there was no other option: a grassy park next to the church and its small cemetery where no one ever visited. It was macabre, sitting underneath the tree staring out at the graves and headstones but it brought a sense of calm to Cas. People cared enough to leave monuments to those who had passed and the flowers were beautiful. He stayed there long enough to sort through his thoughts but short enough that he was home in time for dinner, offering his parents the excuse that he had eaten with his friends before he made his way to his room. 

An hour passed and then two and then three and still his mother hadn’t come to knock on his door and talk. Suppertime had long since passed and the clock was beginning to near bedtime for his parents. Cas’ heart hammered nervously, afraid his mother would come talk to him but also afraid she wouldn’t and would simply go to bed instead. A soft knock interrupted his anxiety at quarter past eleven, his mother standing just outside his room.

“Castiel, are you awake? I’d really like to talk to you.”

Cas knew she could see him sitting on his bed and sighed, shifting over to leave her enough room to sit down. He watched her take it as an invitation to come in, long nightgown and signature braid floating behind her as if she were some kind of Victorian ghost meant to come and haunt him. She smoothed the fabric of her nightgown as she sat, eyes cast down to her legs so she didn’t have to look at her son. 

“I don’t know exactly what you saw earlier today but I know you must be having some complicated feelings about it so I was hoping we could talk about it.” She murmured, her voice as whisper soft as ever. “I’d really like to know how you’re feeling.”

“You know exactly what I saw and you should know exactly how I feel since you’ve done this to at least six other people already.” Cas replied sharply, not bothering to mask the acid in his tone. 

“I deserve that acid and I won’t deny that you’re right.” She said. “I was planning on telling you this weekend, truthfully I was. You just beat me to the punch is all.”

Cas didn’t respond, staring at his own hands. If his mother wanted to talk and attempt to justify what she had done, that was her business. There was nothing saying that he had to be a collaborator. 

“This entire thing started when I was thirteen and it’s been going on and off for the last thirty six years. Amara and I, we were friends before anything ever happened. Her and your father grew up next door to me, we were bound to get close. It was easy to get close to her, you know how excitable and entertaining and passionate she is about everything.” Cas’ mother said, trying to keep up the courage to continue talking. 

“Why does it matter that you grew up next to each other? We both know you chose to marry dad.” Cas mumbled. "A choice means exclusivity and clearly that isn't something you've been doing."

His mother laughed, a deep bitter laugh that had Cas second guessing things. “I wouldn’t exactly use the word ‘chose’ to describe how your father and I got together.”

“What?”

“I never loved your father growing up, I always loved Amara.” she admitted quietly. “But it was a small town and it was religious and rumours spread so quickly if the right people knew about them. If people found out about us, it would’ve ruined our lives. Things weren’t so progressive back then.”

Cas frowned deeply, anxiety churning in his stomach at the reveal he wasn’t expecting or prepared for. He scooted ever so slightly closer to his mother, his silence begging her to continue. 

“We did everything together, the two of us and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought until it suddenly did. I think it was one of the athletes who found us and that’s when everything started. They didn’t harass her, your father’s side of the family was influential, but the things they said and did to me are things I can't forget.”

Her shoulders were beginning to shake and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, a gentle sniffle hanging in the silence. She shied away when Cas shifted closer again, hugging her knees to her chest in a display of vulnerability she had never shared before. Hair was beginning to fall out of her braid and she let it, continuing with her story. 

“She found out about the harassment at some point but I told her that I couldn’t take it anymore, that enough was enough and I didn’t know if I wanted to keep trying. Your aunt said we could run away and we were going to but then my mom, your grandma, got really sick and dad was dead by then and I couldn’t just leave her all alone so I ended things.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got with dad though. Or how the affair started.” Cas said, his curiosity getting the best of his concern.

“Your father always liked me more than a friend was supposed to, even though he knew what I had been up to.” She explained, pulling her hair out of its braid and letting it flow down her back. “He said that he knew what Amara and I had was just a phase and that he didn’t care because he still wanted me. He’d help me get rid of the rumours on a few conditions is what he told me. I had to date him in the proper way, we had to get married to really seal the deal, and he wanted children.”

Cas felt the familiar bubbling of anger deep in his gut but it wasn’t aimed at his mother. “He coerced you into all of this then. Why didn’t you just say no to him and deal with the high school assholes?”

“It was easier to go along with it and I thought I’d grow to love him, that I’d get over her. Clearly I was wrong.” She laughed bitterly. “She swore she would never see me again the day your father and I got married, that she would spend the rest of her life spiting me for what I’d done in the name of self preservation and I told her it was fine. I told her she could die and I wouldn’t care but I lied.”

“Why did she come back then? She’s been around since I was a kid.”

“I almost died after you were born, complications of the fact I had had seven children in a short period of time. I called her because I regretted everything I’d said and I didn’t think I’d get to make it right. She showed up and it felt like she’d never left, honestly. The affair started a few days later and it’s been going for the last twenty-one years.”

Cas’ frown deepened and he shifted again to reach for the box of tissues on his bedside table, offering them to his mother. She took them gratefully, dabbing at her teary eyes in the hope of trying to stop the tears she knew wouldn’t stop. Tension hung between them and neither really knew what to do about it so she decided to continue talking. 

“I wasn’t going to divorce him with young children still living in this house if that was your next question. He’s too unpredictable and I wasn’t going to put any of you in danger. You're all old enough now though, well old enough to know the truth I suppose.”

“I think you should leave him, mom. Your entire relationship is built on coercion and he’s been awful to not just you but to all of us.” Cas mumbled. “You have these feelings for women, why didn’t you say something earlier? Gabe is cool with all of that and I’m- well, I’m figuring some stuff out.”

She paused, finally glancing up at Cas. Her eyes were red rimmed and misty but she looked unburdened, like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. There was a sort of knowing tenderness in the barely discernible smile on her face as she shifted and gently embraced Cas, pleased to find no resistance. 

“I was wondering when you would start figuring that out.”

Cas pulled away slightly, clearly surprised. “You knew?”

“I did, well- I do but that was your revelation to discover. Just like mine was my own.” She said. “I know that I haven’t been the best person, that the affair and the dishonesty have coloured my character and how you view me and I’m really not expecting forgiveness from you. All I want is for you to know the truth and to know that I am planning on leaving your father and pursuing things with Amara. It’s very tangled right now and complicated because of everything else but I'll figure it out.”

Cas didn’t know how to respond to his mother and her plans for the future, still trying to wrap his head around everything she had revealed to him. He’d never really seen his parents be affectionate now that he was thinking about it and on the rare occasion that they had deigned to do so, his mother had always looked uncomfortable and shied away. Cas had assumed it was because she just didn’t want to at the time but clearly she just didn’t want him at all. Knowing that his mother was more than just alright with nonheterosexual lifestyles was both comforting and disconcerting and he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not she’d accept him because she’d already said she would without using the words. 

His silence was apparently too much for his mother because she glanced nervously at him, fingers repeatedly combing through her long hair. “This is a lot for you to handle, I’m sorry.”

“I was angry at you this morning,” he began. “Dad and I don’t get along but I still thought you two loved each other. Then Gabe talked to me and he told me there was more and I didn’t really believe it. You’ve just- I love you but you’ve always been quiet and boring and I couldn’t believe you’d do something like what happened this morning.”

“I’m not boring, I just can’t be myself around your father.” She shrugged, already twisting her hair back into its signature braid. "I can be myself around Amara because she is my other half, the one person in the world who completes me. That's not something to throw away."

Cas nodded his head in agreement. “I get it, I can’t be myself around dad either. Look, I need time to process this and work through how it complicates my life but I don’t hate you and I need you to know that. Do what you have to do, mom.”

His mother smiled softly and wrapped an arm around Cas, pulling him in for a gentle half hug. An understanding passed between them, a silent promise that they would never share each other’s secrets and that everything would be okay. She pressed a kiss to Cas’ head before she was letting go and standing up, offering him one final smile.

“You can talk to me about anything, sweetheart. I am here for you and I do love you.”

Cas nodded and watched his mother leave, the door closing behind her and sealing Cas in a tomb of his own crushing swirling thoughts. As he crawled under the covers that seemed to crush him beneath their weight, he couldn’t help but ask himself if forgiving and accepting his mother was the right choice.

Chapter Text

Castiel knew the graveyard of Saint Mary’s like the back of his hand, each headstone and scraggly tree a monument to those long gone and those still remaining, so he didn’t understand why everything had suddenly changed. 

The majestic oak he’d spent countless hours underneath with a good book was now barren and twisted, its gnarled roots pulled from the ground and spread across the cemetery with reckless purpose. They pulsed with a dark energy and Cas crouched down, fingers running across the wood as purple sparks seemed to float off and away from the tree. The roots seemed determined to flee from the tree and Cas shifted on the balls of his feet to find their destination, eyes scanning the rest of the cemetery. 

Headstone after headstone had been cracked in half as if struck by lightning, smoking ash and charcoal obscuring the names from view as if to prevent their memory from forming. Slabs of marble and granite lay smoking on the dead grass and statues had toppled over, a broken cherub staring Castiel dead in the eyes from its final resting place. A mausoleum stood tall over everything else in the distance and dread bloomed in Cas’ stomach as he realized the roots were leading him directly to the open maw.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this.” Cas mumbled to himself as he stood back up, choosing to follow the roots towards the building in the distance.

The roots grew darker and more gnarled the closer Cas got to the stone mausoleum and he paused when he came upon a headstone untouched by the storm, peering at it curiously. Faded by years of exposure to the elements, Cas had to concentrate as he tried to decipher who it belonged to. 

Anna Milton

The name didn’t seem familiar to Cas and he pursed his lips as he continued his trek towards the mausoleum, unsure why her headstone had been untouched. Everything else in the graveyard had been reduced to rubble so why was she so special? What about Anna Milton, in life or in death, had been so important that she was to remain untouched? 

Approaching the mausoleum, Cas felt the all too familiar goosebumps rising on his arms and he hugged them tighter to his chest. Hairs raised on the back of his neck and his stomach was beginning to plummet deeper into his body, the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be here growing with every passing minute. Something was wrong, something sick and evil was infecting the hallowed grounds of the church and Castiel didn’t want to know what it was. Stained glass saints were bad enough but this, this felt worse. 

Thick chains lay broken in front of the threshold, solid metal melted and twisted into a form it shouldn't have been in, and Cas gingerly kicked them aside with his foot. He’d secretly watched enough horror movies with Thea to know that this was a supremely stupid thing to do and that he’d probably be dead in the next few minutes but judging by everything weird going on, Cas didn’t think anything was real anyway. Taking a deep breath, Cas stepped inside.

“Hello?” He called, voice echoing in the empty space. “Anybody awake in here?”

Sobbing pierced the silence as soon as Cas spoke, a body and soul wail that seemed to shake him to his very core. There was something heartbreaking about the wailing, a desperation running so deeply through it that Cas couldn’t help but propel himself forward and into the darkness. His footsteps echoed as he ran through the impossibly long corridor, tendrils of pulsing purple darkness swirling around him and gripping at his clothing. It was only when his eyes fell upon the first living thing he’d seen in forever that he realized how badly he had screwed up. 

He saw the dirtied dress first, woolen fabric drenched with dirt, blood, and something else that had Cas covering his nose with his hand. The feet beneath the dress were streaked with mud and as Cas looked upwards, he was met with bright red matted hair. It sat in a tangled heap on her head, red strands twisted and matted and full of leaves and branches. The matting shifted as the woman moved and then Cas clued in to what her hands were doing. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He whispered before he could stop himself, eyes still glued to her right hand as it furiously scrawled a message onto the marble. Her raspy voice echoed around Cas, so harsh and whispered it felt like daggers in his ears.

A curse upon the seventh son

Cas’ eyebrows shot up, a chill creeping up his spine. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he knew that now, but it was too late to stop his hand from grazing her shoulder as he tried to get a look at her face. The woman shifted on the balls of her feet, hands reaching out and wrapping around Cas’ legs. She pulled and he fell, head bouncing off of the floor. 

A beastly ghoul of fire and passion

Her terrible voice filled in the places the ringing in Cas’ ears didn't quite reach and he almost began crying when he finally saw her face. The woman’s eyes were gone, gaping black cavities leaking blood and pale yellow fluid as if she was crying from the tear ducts she didn’t have. She seemed to be staring at Cas though, long fingers digging into the meat of his thigh to hold him in place, and then her chapped lips were splitting into a wide grin. 

His soul is prey to evil’s clutch

She repeated that phrase again and again as she got closer to Cas’ face, practically screaming by the time she had closed the gasp. Letting go of Cas’ legs, her hands flew towards his throat and closed around it with an inhuman strength. Squeezing and squeezing and pulling tighter, Cas could barely breathe and couldn’t seem to find the strength to fight either. 

It was only when he woke with a startled gasp, hands clawing at his untouched throat, that he registered the woman’s final words to him. 

Consume its victim’s heart and soul

~

Dean was no stranger to lucid dreaming, a practice he’d been working on since he was eight years old. It had come from a particularly gothic looking librarian who’d most definitely suggested a book to him that was out of his league but interesting all the same. He didn’t remember the first time he’d actually done it but he had perfected his technique and it was something he did quite often. 

His go to space when he was dreaming was something Dean had affectionately named the train station. Brick walls with glass windows surrounded iron benches and newsstands with pamphlets and flyers and Dean always sat in the middle bench as he prepared to control what he wanted to in his dreams. The station was always empty, acting as a sort of middle place between reality and dreams, but something wasn’t right when Dean found himself there again.

He glanced around the space, eyes glossing over the stands and benches and plants as he tried to figure out why he had the feeling that something was watching him when it wasn’t supposed to be. None of the benches were occupied and it didn’t seem like anyone was looking in through the windows but Dean paused when his eyes seemed to gloss over the dark corner near one of the exits. He tried looking closer but it felt like there was pushback and Dean pursed his lips, the gears in his head turning him towards a chilling realization. ‘

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

A chuckle rang out in the station as a figure peeled themself from the wall cloaked in shadow. They weren’t solid but rather solid adjacent, swirling black particles moving in a vaguely humanoid shape save for their eyes which glowed with a strange yellow light. As they moved, the light seemed to bend around them and Dean was quick to slide off of the bench to keep the distance between them. 

“This is my dream and I didn’t dream you up so who are you?” Dean asked, the anxiety palpable in his voice. 

The entity spoke, its voice charming with a deep masculine tone to it. “Your subconscious, of course. Everything you think and want and don’t consciously decide. Indecision is darkness, don’t you know?”

“If you’re my subconscious, why haven’t you manifested before?”

The entity shrugged, a few particles leaving its mass and returning to the dark of the corner. It took a few steps towards Dean and as it did, it began to change. Particles stilled and solidified, pink dewy flesh emerging from the darkness slick with mucus. Teeth erupted and nails pushed through skin as Dean watched in disgust and horror, his eyes wide and lips trembling at the sight before him. If this was what his brain could conjure up, Dean wasn’t so sure he wanted to have the brain he did. 

“Emotional turmoil and unspoken urges create the perfect breeding ground for emerging.” The entity said simply, booming voice shifting and contorting until it mirrored Dean’s a pitch lower and full of gravel. 

When Dean opened his eyes again, daring to look at his subconscious, he found himself; right from the freckles dotting his face, the little scars mapped across his hands, and the permanent indent in his cupid’s bow from chewing on it, all of it was undeniably him. He approached cautiously, watching as the mirror image of himself examined his hands and then glanced up at him.

“We sure do have working hands, don’t we.” Not Dean hummed, sliding his hands into the pockets of the jeans he wore. “Must feel nice with all the girlfriends we’ve had, wonder if the boyfriends would like it too.”

“We don’t have boyfriends.”

“You and I both know we could if we tried just a little bit harder.” Not Dean hummed, a grin lighting up his face as a terrible idea entered his brain the same time it entered Dean’s. 

Skin ripped and tore, wet squelching sounds echoing even as Dean covered his ears and turned away from the sight. Teeth hit the floor with sharp pings and bones crunched, a heap of denim was kicked underneath one of the station benches, and as soon as it had started it stopped. Dean couldn't bear to look at what his subconscious had become but (un)luckily for him, there was no need to look. 

Dean felt the arms wrap around him from behind but he knew they weren’t his, too thin and too knobby to be the ones he used in countless hours at the garage. There was a lean body pressing against his back and then there was a face in his neck, nose nudging at the skin there.

“We like the way this one looks, all lean and skinny and innocent.” His subconscious said, voice full of grit and gravel. “We were upset that he got freaked out and ran away before anything happened. We could do something about it.”

Dean swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he would see if he turned around. He’d see the same blue eyes, the strong nose and jaw, and the long fingers of the boy he couldn’t get out of his head. There would be the same haunted deer in the headlights look in his eyes and while Dean knew there was an urge to ruin that look, his subconscious knew him better than that. 

“You don’t have to think about this, Dean.” Not Cas purred, hands sliding down Dean’s chest towards his pants. “I’m you and this is a dream and it’s fine.”

“I don’t- fucking a me that doesn’t look like me in a dream feels weirdly violating somehow.” Dean mumbled as he pulled away, turning to face Not Cas. “There is so much ethically wrong with this.”

Not Cas raised an eyebrow, shoulders up in a shrug that didn’t seem to fit him. He knew Dean, was Dean, so any and all arguments were practically null and void. His tone was casual as he sat himself on the bench, his fluid movements almost too fluid.

“Look, we both know how we think and right now, there is no way in Hell we’re going to get laid with that guy. But we both also know that we’re not going to look for someone else to fuck or have a crush on because our brain has decided this is the boy of the month so we’re kind of low on options here. We can either fuck around in our dreams where nobody gets hurt and we can experiment with all those nasty little urges or we can get absolutely nothing in the real world and just be sexually frustrated.”

“We don’t know what he looks like underneath his clothes and I know you’re going to say we can imagine it but I don’t like that either.” Dean mumbled, beginning to feel more awkward than anxious. 

Not Cas who was really Not Dean simply shook his head, beyond exasperated. 

“You need to shut the fuck up and just go with it, seriously. Repressing our urges is just going to make us angry and besides, who knows what you like better than you do.”

Dean’s frown was unmistakable but he knew that he was right, that he really wasn’t going to seek out any hookups or others when his heart was so set on Cas for reasons he still couldn’t seem to comprehend. Experimenting in his dreams where he couldn’t hurt anyone wasn’t the worst thing he could do.

“Okay, fine, we can do that.” Dean relented, running a hand through his hair. “I hope we don’t regret this.”

Not Cas was quick to stand and even quicker to close the gap, taking Dean’s hand and leading him into the darkness surrounding the train station. ]

As Dean slept and gave in to his subconscious desires, the seed of doubt telling him that he had done something unimaginably wrong was beginning to bloom.

Chapter Text

Mornings, as it turned out, were not Cas’ friend. Still reeling from the red headed woman who hadn’t wanted to let him go, he was hard pressed to ignore the ache in his throat as if he’d been choked half to death in the real world. His limbs weighed a ton as he dragged himself out of bed and his hair was slick with drying sweat as he tried to finger comb the tangles out. 

“Looking hot, handsome.” Cas said to himself, lamely shooting himself finger guns as he stared into the mirror just across from his bed. 

A quick splash of water across his face and a few swipes of overpriced vaguely creamsicle scented lotion Thea had convinced him to buy later and Cas was just about ready to start his day. He threw on a pair of slacks and a slightly rumpled shirt, more preoccupied with his thoughts than the wrinkles in the fabric that nobody would really even notice. With his bad slung over his shoulder and the ramblings of an insane dream woman in his mind, Cas made his way downstairs to try and retrieve his travel mug from its resting place in the dishwasher. He stepped past the squeaky step but was quick to pause when he heard his parents' voices coming from the kitchen.

“You seem distracted this morning, you’ve barely said anything at all.” his father was saying, seated at his usual spot at the head of the table. Chuck was supposed to be at work and Cas frowned as he peeked around the corner, ducking out of sight when he saw his mother turning around. 

“I’m not used to having you home in the morning, you’re usually gone by the time I wake up. It’s different, that’s all.”

Cas knew he should leave, that he should just get up and walk out the front door before he witnessed the inevitable chaos that the kitchen seemed to create, but his feet just wouldn’t move. He sighed under his breath before peeking back into the kitchen, resigning himself to watch another facet of his life crumble into dust. 

His father shrugged, movements fluid as he rose from the chair and closed the gap between himself and his wife. Cas’ mother tensed as her husband’s arms slid around her and when she felt the brush of lips on her neck as he ducked his head, she went as white as a sheet. 

“We need to talk so please, just stop.” She said quietly, voice wavering as she pulled herself free. 

Chuck raised an eyebrow, arms crossed defensively. “What exactly do we need to talk about?”

“You know what.”

The tension in the kitchen manifested almost at once, Chuck’s defensive posture turning almost aggressive and Grace’s becoming even more submissive and timid. Cas felt like he was watching a wolf stare down a defenseless puppy but knowing just how strong the wolf bit, he had no desire to intervene. 

“I wondered when you’d be brave enough to bring this up again.” He said coldly. “My answer is the same as it has always been. No, I do not want a divorce and no, I will not sign any kind of divorce papers.”

“Oh, I will be getting the divorce whether or not you sign the papers.”

The sentence hung heavy in the air, Grace seemingly colder and more determined than Cas had ever seen. Even her posture had shifted, the fear still there but the submissiveness seeming to fade away. It was less the woman he knew and more of the woman that he’d seen when she was around his aunt.  

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” Chuck hissed, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You and I signed papers when we were married, we made a promise to God, and those aren’t things that can be thrown away. We’ve been together for thirty one years and that means something.”

“It means nothing to me, just like you do. For thirty one years I’ve been trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who has done nothing but manipulate me and treat me as second class and I am done! I have never loved you and I have never wanted to stay but these things take time and there were circumstances I couldn’t prevent. But I’m done and as of noon today, we are no longer married.”

Chuck’s face filled with rage as he stepped forward, large hand closing hard enough around Grace’s wrist to make her wince. His face was so close to hers she could see the fury in his eyes, could feel the hot breath on her cheek. Her heart hammered in her chest and her instinctual reaction was to shrink away and submit but she didn’t listen to it, instead managing to pull her arm out of his grip.

“If you so much as take a step forward to raise a hand to me,” she began as she stepped back, voice shaking with crumbling restraint, “I will have the cops here and you will be arrested and charged for assault. I am done playing these childish games and being your slave and I am done putting up with something I don’t deserve.”

“This is about my sister, isn’t it.” Chuck muttered, seething with rage. “I suspected, for years I did, but I was hoping I’d gotten rid of those incessant feelings you have. You did have children with me, which does take some amount of love.”

“You say that as if you haven’t had dalliances with Clara, Phyllis, Laura, and Marjorie. And yes, I do know all about them.”

Cas had to bite his lip to keep his gasp of surprise from escaping, eyes wide and body shaking at the scene he still couldn't tear his eyes away from. He’d never seen his father so enraged and aggressive but also so helpless at the same time and while he wanted to enjoy it, Cas knew his father was a ticking time bomb and the longer he was in the house the likelier it was that his mother would get hurt. But his mother was holding her ground and he’d never heard her voice so loud and argumentative in his life. It was simply too volatile. 

“My business is my business, you fucking bitch!” Chuck swore, swiping a glass from the kitchen table. He threw it without thinking and it shattered against the wall next to Grace’s head, a few shards catching her cheek in the recoil. 

There was a moment of deafening silence as Grace brushed her fingers across her cheek, blood tinging her fingertips as she withdrew them. Her heart hammered so loud in her ears she didn’t hear herself speaking in a cold threatening tone, couldn’t understand her desperate actions as she tried to get Chuck to leave. Grace reached for a stray knife, hand shaking as she brandished it.

“You are going to get the fuck out of house and leave me the fuck alone or I will throw this and unlike you, Charles, I will make sure that I don’t fucking miss.”

Chuck swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the sight of his soon to be ex-wife standing up for herself and meaning it. He knew he could overpower his wife, that it would be easy to get her to submit, but the little kernel of doubt was enough to give him pause. 

“What about my things?” He asked, already taking a few steps back. 

“They’ll be outside by noon. Now get the Hell out of my house and get the Hell out of my life.”

Chuck’s expression was a mix of fear, anger, and just a tinge of regret as he took one final look at Grace before he was turning and walking out the front door. Grace waited until she was sure that Chuck wasn’t coming back before she let the knife clatter to the floor, a violent sob erupting from her chest as she let herself collapse into a heap on the floor. 

Cas’ feet seemed to unstick themselves from the ground and with his own emotions heightened and heart beating quickly, he scrambled into the kitchen. The tiles dug into his knees as he situated himself, sliding the knife further away from them. He was afraid to touch his mother, afraid of how she would react so he stayed just out of reach.

“Mom?” He asked quietly, unable to hide his shaky voice. 

There was another quiet sob as Grace shifted, pulling herself into a seated position. Her eyes were glistening and tears were streaking down her cheeks, mixing with the blood slowly rolling from the cut on her cheek. A quivering frown sat on her lips and she wiped roughly at her eyes before glancing up at Cas. 

“How much of that did you hear or see?”

Cas hesitated before answering honestly. “All of it.”

“You weren’t supposed to be around for that, I’m sorry.” Grace mumbled, turning away from Cas so she could collect the glass shards with a towel. Anything that kept her busy and distracted.

“He could’ve killed you, that’s not something you should’ve been doing alone with police or someone else or literally anything. You can’t keep doing things alone, mom, it won’t work. I would’ve helped you, Gabe would’ve helped you, you just had to ask.”

“It’s over, it doesn’t matter anymore.” She replied as she stood, tossing the glass in the trash. “The divorce will be finalized in a few hours and the locks are being changed in the next hour so he won’t be able to get back in. The house is in my name, he can’t come at me legally for that, and if he does decide to challenge the divorce in courts then I have enough evidence to make sure it sticks.”

“Well I'm glad you have it figured out but seriously, mom, you have to just slow down.” Cas mumbled, trying to get her to sit still for a minute. “Let me take a look at your cheek, please.”

“You have class today, don’t you? I really think you should just go to class. I have a million things I have to do anyway.”

Cas shook his head before taking a step back, choosing to wet a cloth next to the sink before returning to his mother. He didn’t give her the chance to protest or argue, simply bringing the cloth up to clean the blood from her cut. She was trembling as Cas cleaned up the cut but he didn’t dare bring it up, not wanting to invite another emotional conversation that neither of them were prepared for. Several minutes passed in uncomfortable silence before Cas chose to break it.

“I’m worried about you, mom.” He admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t process all of this right now and I’m not even the one caught up in the middle of it so I don’t even know how you’re not freaking out and crying all the time over this. He trapped you, coerced you, did all of that horrible shit. Dad deserves to be hurt for what he’s done to you.”

Grace shook her head, anxiously rubbing her hands together. “I am not the kind of person who will go out of my way to hurt someone like that, well- anyone who isn’t your father. Today was always going to be the day I left him and after thinking about it and planning it for twenty one years, I have every minute of the rest of today carefully budgeted and planned.”

Cas wasn’t comforted by how well his mother was taking this entire scenario but there was a kernel of relief knowing she had a plan and that it was coming to fruition. He knew he should go to class, that there were things he had to do, but he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all if he did end up going. There was too much change in his personal life and even if everything with his parents wasn’t coming to a head, there was still Dean to deal with and Cas didn’t want to face that particular demon yet. 

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” Cas asked. “Because all we’re doing in class is watching a movie. I just thought you might like some company today.”

Grace’s lips twitched into a small smile before she righted herself, nodding her head. “Aside from packing your father’s things and leaving them on the front step, I’ve got some appearance things to deal with. A haircut, a tattoo consult, and digging out all of my old clothing from storage are on the list. Are you sure you want to spend the day with me?”

“You’re getting a tattoo? I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

“Most of what you know about me, dear, is nothing close to the truth.” Grace shrugged, beginning to make her way from the kitchen upstairs to her bedroom. “The meek submissive persona you’ve known your entire life was nothing more than a survival instinct.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Cas mumbled as he followed his mother.

The bedroom was as organized as it always was, queen bed made with militant accuracy and the dresser carefully divided into his and hers. Grace, who had brought trash bags with her from the kitchen, handed one to Cas. “Just shove anything that’s your father’s into these bags. I’m not going to play dutiful wife and hand him his things all folded neatly.”

Cas did as he was told, tackling his parents closet as he took his father’s dress shirts and shoved them unceremoniously into the trash bag. With each dress shirt, Cas felt more of his anger dissolving and redirecting towards his father. He was helping get his father out of his life and that choice, that sudden agency, was beyond freeing. When the closet was finished, Cas moved on to one of the bedside tables. There was almost no conversation for the entirety of removing Chuck’s things but his mother broke the silence when she was finished, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Your father and I were separated once, maybe just eight or nine months.” she began, running a hand through her long hair. “I think you were maybe three at the time. He’d done something, I can’t remember what, but I kicked him out until he learned his lesson. Do you remember what you said to me during the separation?”

Cas raised an eyebrow as he set the final garbage bag down. “I didn't even know that happened so no, I don’t remember.”

“You crawled onto my lap to curl up there and then you told me that you wished daddy would never come back because I never smiled around him and you liked my smile. I never should’ve let him come back but I couldn’t take care of everyone on my own, it just wasn’t possible.”

“I wanted to be mad at you for staying with him all this time and I want to be mad at you for the affair and part of me is but I get it, mom. You didn’t have a choice, not really, and no one blames you for that.” Cas said, sitting down beside her. “This is a lot of emotion for us to deal with right now, so it’s okay to be stressed out. Let’s just focus on getting this to the porch and then doing all the things you need to do today, alright?”

Grace smiled again, a soft genuine smile before she was sliding off of the bed and grabbing her half of the garbage bags. With the bags dumped on the porch and the locksmiths come and gone within a half hour, Cas and his mother were off on their day of errands and altered appearances. The first stop was a hair salon and Grace seemed nervous as she stepped out of the car with Cas, hands twisting the ends of her hair she’d decided to keep loose. 

“Thea told me once that hair holds trauma and negativity. I don’t know if I really believe her but seeing how many times she’s post break up impulse dyed her hair and then seemed more stable, maybe there’s some truth to it.” Cas mused, trying to put his mother at ease. “I think this haircut might be really good, your hair has to be heavy on your head.”

“It does give me headaches so yes, I think it will be too.”

Cas was expecting a salon full of middle aged women with bleached blonde heads and bright lighting meant to bring out the faults in customers' hair so he was more than a little surprised to see what the inside actually looked like. It looked comfortable, the waiting room stocked with magazines and large looking chairs. There were plants and art prints and the lighting was soft but none of that mattered when Cas saw the stylists. 

Each and every stylist was undeniably queer. If the varying outfits and styles of non-traditional makeup wasn’t enough to tell, then the hairstyles certainly were. Mullets, jellyfish cuts, shaved heads, every hairstyle felt undeniably queer and while Cas didn’t know all that many gay people he did know what to look for. Sliding into one of the comfortable chairs while he waited, he decided to pull out his phone and text Thea some updates.

The stylist that Grace had booked was shorter than her and decked out in something Cas imagined Thea would call corporate goth, an impeccable mix of black and slacks and eyeliner so sharp Cas was impressed by it. She got Grace shampooed and seated with ruthless efficiency before smiling at her. 

“You’ve got gorgeous hair, it’s so long and healthy too.” the stylist murmured. “What are we doing with it today?”

“I want as much of it cut off as possible, short of buzzing my entire head.” Grace said firmly. 

“You got it.”

The minutes turned into a half hour and then stretched into just a bit longer as the stylist worked on Grace’s hair, the parts that weren’t donatable falling into heaps on the tiled floor. Scissors echoed and an electric clipper buzzed and by the time the noise was over and Cas glanced at his mother, she looked completely different. Gone was the waist length hair and replacing it was a short curly bob, the kind of bob that made his mother look a decade younger than she was. It caught Cas off guard and when he didn’t say anything, Grace's elated smile died down into an almost but not quite frown. 

“There’s still lots to do today, come on.” She murmured, pausing to pay and tip before the pair were leaving the salon and heading to their next destination.

Cas’ mind was still reeling as he sat in the front seat, trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with who he thought his mother was. It was practically impossible for him to think about her while trying to tackle his own feelings and the dreams on top of all of that. He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I feel like I don’t even know who you are, mom.” He began. “I know that you’re the one who made chicken soup when I was sick, the one who always came to every talent show and outing we had, and the one who made sure I had a night light when I was afraid of the dark but that’s all things you did for me. I don’t know you outside of your actions and I don’t really know how to fix that.”

“Just ask questions then, love. I know there’s a lot going on with you right now, probably more outside of the affair that you haven’t shared, so use this as a distraction if you need to.”

Cas had to think as he tried to come up with what he wanted to know about his mother. There were questions about the affair, about what his father had done, about every little detail of his mother’s secret life, but none of those big ticket questions actually left his mouth. The question was so simple, so juvenile, that it surprised Cas.

“What’s your favourite flower?”

Grace chuckled softly, the simple wisp of air hanging for a moment before vanishing. “Rhododendrons are my favourite. It’s a bit eclectic but still common enough to be available and they smell so nice, just like cloves. I put them in a lot of my paintings.”

“You paint?”

“I teach high school art, of course I paint.” Grace nodded, pulling into a familiar parking lot. “I paint outside of work too, I’m a local artist. Well, I was a local artist and actually rather successful before things got bad with your father anyway.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, surprised that his mother was a successful artist. He’d assumed there would’ve been signs in the house that she was a painter but there was nothing. There were no paint tubes or cans, no varnish, no canvases, nothing that even showed a hint of creativity. Noticing the car was parked, Cas had the chance to glance around and was surprised to find that his mother had brought them to the shop that Thea worked in. 

“Care to come in with me? I’m fairly certain this is the shop your friend works in.”

Cas shook his head, staying in the front seat. “She’s not supposed to be working today so I’m okay. I’ll let you do your thing and I’ll try to think of more questions I have.”

Grace smiled and nodded, reaching out to ruffle Cas’ hair before she headed off into the shop. She’d never been in a tattoo and piercing shop before so Grace didn’t know what to expect and she was pleasantly surprised to find the decor was tasteful. It was an eclectic mix of plants and nature, skulls and snakes blending in with the dark brick. There were prints of women and cases of jewelry and as Grace reached the front desk, she still felt that sense of comfort.

“Hi. I’ve got a consultation with Adam in about five minutes.” She smiled, greeting the person at the front desk. “Is it a pay before or after the consult kind of deal here?”

Thea, who'd decided to pick up an extra day and some extra cash, was manning the counter as she so often did between clients and offered Grace a friendly smile. She’d never met Cas’ mother and there weren’t any photos of her in the house so she had no idea who Grace was. All she really knew was that there was a gorgeous older woman at the counter and if she wasn’t already with Charlie, she’d have shot her shot ten times over already. 

“Paying after is usually our model.” Thea replied. “Can I just say that I absolutely love your haircut, it’s stunning. And you’re rocking that grey too which isn’t something a lot of people can pull off.”

Grace flushed red, running a hand through her hair shyly. “Thank you. I sort of just divorced my husband and I thought that I needed a bit of change, hence the whole tattoo thing. It’s all bodily autonomy and whatnot.”

“Well congratulations to you and your new freedom, that’s great! Not to peddle my services or anything but I definitely think you should consider getting a new piercing to commemorate this occasion. Nothing says new me on the market like piercings.”

“Well I don’t really know much about piercings to be honest.” Grace admitted, pausing when she saw Adam approaching from the back. “Could we chat about this after the consult if you’re still available?”

“Absolutely we can, I’d love that actually. Have a good consult.”

Grace smiled at Thea before she followed Adam to the back where he was set up, taking a seat in the chair across from him. He seemed like a nice approachable guy but that didn’t stop Grace from worrying, anxiously running her finger over the spot where her wedding rings used to be. A tattoo felt like a massive step into the unknown of rebirth and while it was exhilarating, it was equally terrifying too. 

“So Grace, gotta admit that your tattoo was a bit different than the requests I usually get but I’m intrigued. I haven’t had a client wanting a neck tattoo in a hot minute now, especially not one that’s so gothic. Want to explain a little bit about what you were thinking?”

“Well, I’ve just always loved the gothic aesthetic and something about the way stained windows show people’s true colours has always spoken to me. I was hoping to actually extend the piece down my body and have a second sternum piece attached. I brought a rough sketch to kind of help you out.” 

The sketch Grace pulled out was simple enough, three cathedral windows with a connected frame. The pane dropped down in a detailed column to a sternum piece that looked like it belonged in a graveyard. There was a simple stone looking monument, the kind that went atop a grave, and it was littered with rhododendrons. 

Adam glanced at the sketch, nodding his head to no one in particular. “This is a sick concept, I can totally work with it. It’ll be multiple full day sessions with this level of detail, I’m thinking anywhere from two to four depending on any alterations and how well you can take the pain. I usually charge about one twenty to one thirty an hour depending on the client but I’m aware of your circumstances and our shop does have a discount for that. So I'm thinking it’ll be about a hundred or so an hour for six hours and with the sessions in mind, I think this’ll be somewhere in the ballpark of twenty-four hundred if that works with your budget.”

“I can absolutely work with that.” Grace smiled, the excitement building in her voice. She would take her image, her body, herself in its entirety back one step at a time starting with the tattoo. No longer would she feel Chuck's hands on her when she looked in the mirror and no longer would she have to deal with the bruises blooming dark across her throat like onyx helleborus. 

“That’s great! I can schedule in for the first session next week if that works for you, say Thursday all day?”

“Thursday sounds great, thank you. Is the deposit still a hundred?”

“Yep. You can just give it to whoever’s at the front desk. I’ll pencil you in and then I’ll see you next week.”

Grace smiled again and let Adam finalize all of the details before she made her way back to the front, pleased to find the same girl there from earlier. She handed Thea the deposit before leaning back on the balls of her feet, examining some of the jewelry in the cases. 

“What would the best piercing be for a recent divorcee who’s finally taking back control and learning to exist in a world with the partner they’ve always wanted?” Grace murmured, partially asking Thea for her opinion. 

“Visible or not visible? Tell me about your new partner.”

“Well she’s not new new, more like finally out in the open new, but she’s incredible. She’s a professor and has always just been so strong. Think long dark hair, knows exactly what she wants, and knows exactly what she’s doing when she’s trying to get it” Grace murmured, conjuring Amara up in her head and bringing a flush to her cheeks. “We’ve been together so long that I feel like nothing I do surprises her and I’d really like to surprise her.”

Thea nodded her head, reaching for a jewelry case housing long barbells. “Sounds like me and my girlfriend. We’ve been together for years so there isn’t much room for surprises any more but she somehow still manages it. Thinking about what you’ve said, I’d really recommend nipple piercings. You can hide them for work, they’re relatively easy to take care of when they heal, and I think they’d probably surprise your partner too.”

Grace raised an eyebrow but seemed to consider the idea for a few minutes before nodding her head. “You know what, why the hell not. If your piercer has time, I would love to get it done.”

Thea grinned and stepped out from behind the counter, ushering Grace back to her room.

Thea’s space was decorated exactly to her tastes, an eclectic mix of a million little things that felt a bit like the organized chaos that was her personality. There was a little shelf lined with various horror movie figures and a customized furby with demonic horns and white eyes sat in the center of that, a few dark crystals lined around it in a semicircle. A little side table had a few dark and stone looking succulents on it, more crystals and little figures surrounding them. 

But none of that caught Grace’s eye when she saw the all too familiar print of a painting on Thea’s wall. 

“You’re a Hopewell fan, I see.” Grace murmured as she sat down on the chair. “That’s an earlier work too, not many people know that one and even less liked it.”

“Are you kidding me? Her whole ‘Face of God’ series is the entire reason I even got into art school in the first place. She’s just got this whole religious gothic theme going on and even if she didn’t have that, the way she blurs spots and focuses on others is just so compelling. I tried to get one of her originals once, they were auctioning it off for charity, but some asshat outbid me by like five cents. I got so upset.”

Grace, stunned by the fact someone liked the art she put out under the name ‘Hopewell’, barely had the ability to think of a coherent response so she was grateful as Thea asked her to take off her shirt and her bra. With the clothing out of the way, Grace had enough time to respond and tell herself she was making the right decision. 

“Which original did you want to get? I’m fairly certain the artist has almost all of her originals back again.”

“The Face of God is a Lie, that’s the one I was trying to get. It’s the last one in the series and it’s the last original she’s put out there. I don’t think she’s released anything new in a couple years now which she’s totally allowed to do but it’s also kind of disappointing.”

Grace watched as Thea pulled everything out that she needed, washing her hands before pulling a pair of gloves to keep everything nice and sanitized. She’d have to check her paintings after this, to see if she had the original she could give to Thea. It was rare to meet someone who lived her art and to meet someone who loved her personal favourite series was an even better surprise. 

“Well, maybe the artist will see if you post something on social media. My son says that that’s quite big right now, not that he’s on it or anything.” She chuckled. “He’s having a hard time right now, everything’s a mess with the separation. That and he has an obvious crush he isn’t very talkative about, some boy in one of his classes I think.”

There was a sharp toe curling sting and then a second one and a few minutes later Thea was rolling back on her chair, nodding in satisfaction. “Take a look at them, tell me what you think. I’ve got an aftercare pamphlet for you and it comes with a free jewelry swap once they’re healed. It doesn’t mention it but keep any kind of mouth away from it for at least a month, just to lessen the infection risk.”

Grace took a look at herself in the mirror and while she’d never really had any overtly positive or negative feelings towards herself, the thought that she had done this and that she liked it was enough to bring a smile to her face. Already this was different than the body that Chuck had touched, had violated, and Grace could feel the first inklings of freedom.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” She murmured, slipping back into her bra and her shirt. “Forgive me for being so rude, I never even asked your name.”

“It’s Thea, like tea with an h where there shouldn’t be one.”

Grace paused for just a moment, the name far too familiar in her brain. “You wouldn’t happen to be the Thea that’s best friends with Castiel, would you?”

“Holy shit, are you his mom?” Thea asked, eyes widening. She’d thought the woman looked familiar but hadn’t quite been able to place her but knowing what she knew now, it was impossible not to notice how similar her and her son looked. 

“I am. He’s told me a lot about you but we’ve never had the chance to meet, I think he might be a little bit embarrassed of me which I suppose is understandable.”

“He hasn’t talked about you too much but he’s not doing great right now, something I’m sure you’re more than well aware of.” Thea said, tossing her gloves in the trash. “I’m here for him when I can be but you’ll have to be there too so I’m hoping you will be.”

“We’re spending the day together today so I’m trying to get everything figured out. How much do I owe you for the piercings?”

“It’s one twenty for the pair but I’ll knock it down to a hundred because you’re Cas’ mom and he is my best friend.”

Grace fished around in her purse for her wallet and handed Thea the hundred with a tip as well, leaning back on the balls of her feet. She hadn’t expected Cas’ best friend to be so extroverted and comfortable in herself and her identity but here she was. There was something comforting in knowing that Thea seemed to have everything figured out and that it would be helpful to Cas. 

“Thank you for being such a good friend to my son, you’ve helped him more than I think either of you realize.”

Thea smiled back before turning around to finish cleaning up, letting Grace leave. She made her way back to the car and slid in, turning to glance over at Cas to see him partially asleep. He’d always been a light sleeper so Grace wasn’t all that surprised when he shifted, eyes opening as he yawned.

“When’d you get back, mom?” He asked through a yawn, rubbing at his eyes. 

“A whole minute and a half ago. I didn’t mean to take so long so I’m sorry, I just ran into someone I wasn’t expecting to run into. She’s quite nice, your friend Thea.”

Cas felt the sleepiness leave his body all at once, the blood practically draining from his face. Thea had a bit of a temper when she wanted to and knowing that, he was afraid she had blown up on his mom about the affair. But Grace seemed like she was in a good mood so maybe Thea had been nice after all. Either way, he was a little worried about how the pair had perceived each other. 

“You like her then?” Cas asked nervously. “She’s um- she can be a lot sometimes and I know that and she knows about what’s going on so I’m really sorry if she said anything rude to you about it.”

“Relax, she didn’t say anything rude. She was quite friendly and very gentle with needles too.” Grace chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot. “I understand why you didn’t bring her around when your father lived with us but now that he’s gone, please bring her over whenever. I think she’s been good for you.”

Relief flooded through Cas when he heard the reassurance but it quickly turned to revulsion when he realized that there were no new piercings on his mother’s ears. He’d seen more than enough of her in the kitchen with his aunt, he really didn’t want to see more of her in his mind. 

“What’s next on your to-do list?” he asked, stretching as he shook off the final dregs of sleep. 

“I’ve got an old storage unit that has a lot of my old things that your father didn’t want around and I’d just like to see what I’ve got. There’s some old paintings in there too and I think I have one I’d really like to give to your friend.”

“She’s really picky about the artists she likes though, her style’s kind of really specific. Like she really only ever talks about Hopewell and that’s like kind of scary and gothic so why would you have a painting like that? Scary and Gothic doesn’t really seem like your vibe, mom. No offense.”

Grace grinned before she could stop herself, a genuine good natured grin that seemed to be appearing more and more frequently. “I am an artist, sweetheart, and I paint under a pseudonym so I can display things locally. My maiden name is Hopewell and the artist is Hopewell so you do the math.”

Cas hardly had the words to react to what his mother was saying, choosing instead to shake his head in disbelief. Hopewell was the pinnacle of gothic work according to Thea, an artist beyond their time who should be more popular than they were, and Cas just couldn't reconcile the subject matter of those paintings with his quiet unassuming mother who was quickly becoming less and less unassuming with each passing day. 

“It’s surprising to hear, I know, but I’ve always been intrigued by things like that. It’s so easy to paint your demons through the gothic lens and when religion focuses on them as much as it does, it only makes sense.” Grace explained. “I paint my feelings and situations through that lens because it helps me contextualize and deal with them. You and your brothers all have paintings hidden back in storage somewhere, but those aren’t as gothic as the others.”

“Do you have any other surprises that I should know about? Because I am learning about you but I still feel like I know nothing.”

Grace simply shrugged her shoulders, turning into a lot for a storage place that Cas thought looked more than a little sketchy. The cracked pavement and sprouting weeds felt almost too familiar and the clammy sweaty memory of the horrifying dream was beginning to set it. Cas felt like he’d turn around and then that terrifying eyeless woman would be right there behind him, ready to choke the life out of him again. 

He kept close to his mother as she spoke to the man at the front desk, pressed against her side as if he were a child afraid of being lost in a mall far too large for him. The man offered Cas an eyebrow of suspicion but said nothing as the pair left, simply returning to the decade old rerun of maury playing on his tiny little soapbox television. Endless aisles of units and their doors seemed to close in on Cas like the walls of the mausoleum and by the time they had reached the storage unit, Cas was practically clutching onto his mother’s arm. 

“You’ve been holding onto my arm this entire time, is everything alright?” Grace asked as she pulled away to pull open the door to the unit.

Cas hesitated for the briefest of moments before answering, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve just, I don’t know- I’ve been having these dreams for a while and they’re kind of freaky and this just reminds me of them.”

“What kind of dreams?”

There was a change in Grace’s voice as she asked the question, a slight tinge of worry that Cas didn’t quite catch as his eyes settled on the contents of the unit. The first thing Cas noticed was the furniture, most of it bright and fun and directly opposite to the boring uncomfortable leather that seemed to currently dominate their living room. There were a few brown chairs painted over with vines and flowers and Cas slipped in to inspect them, running his fingers over the dusty wood. 

“Just stuff that I’m feeling guilty about I think. It’s mostly church themed which makes sense because you know how Dad is about literally everything.” Cas admitted. “It’s been the same kind of dreams for a while but I’ve been having different ones lately and they’re just freaky and I don’t know why.”

“Your life is changing rapidly sweetheart, it’s entirely possible that that’s causing the dreams. You’ve got the whole situation with me and your father, the situation with me and Amara, your second last year of school, and what I’m imagining is probably a self-exploration sexuality crisis too. Nobody’s going to blame you for having messed up dreams when everything around you is messed up.”

Cas sighed, sidestepping an oak end table as he ventured deeper into the storage unit. “Is the sexuality crisis really that obvious?”

“I’m your mother so yes, but considering the fact I’ve been struggling with that very same thing since I was thirteen, it’s especially noticeable.” Grace admitted. “Nobody expects you to have it figured out yet, you’re still young. No two people are going to have the same journey so it’s ridiculous to expect that figuring things out your way is going to even come close to your best friend for example. We’ve all got shitty situations and they change the context of how we feel and what we can do.”

“I-” Cas began, pausing to try and figure out what he wanted to say. “I know that I don’t like women and I know that because I kissed Thea once and it was awful. I mean she is gay but even if she wasn’t, I just didn’t like it. The knowing what I am and what I’m not isn’t the problem here.”

“The problem is trying to figure out how to act. What am I supposed to do when everyone has so much more experience than I do? I can’t just go up to him and be like let’s go do shit without knowing what we’re supposed to be doing. Not to mention the fact that the religious stuff has given me a metric ton of guilt about all of this.”

Grace sighed, pausing her search to find the canvases she knew were in there. “I understand the religious guilt, I do. It still bothers me a lot trying to move forward. So does the fact that this relationship is quite literally built on cheating and an affair and while there are a lot of circumstances, that doesn’t really mitigate the fact that doing what I’ve done with Amara is still shitty. Do you want my advice on what to do?”

“Your advice can’t be that bad considering you’re at least sort of happy and getting somewhere with everything so sure, share with me.”

Grace smiled softly as she crossed through an aisle between a cabinet and some of the coffee tables, reaching out to hold Cas’ hands in hers. Her heart was racing in her chest and she could feel Cas’ pulse racing too, knowing that he was likely just as nervous as she was about everything that was going on. 

“Be patient, sweetheart, as corny as that sounds. You will find someone that fits what you want and has the patience and kindness to work with your inexperience to help you get that experience.” She murmured, brushing her thumb across the top of Cas’ hand. “Don’t ever settle for someone who won’t accept you for who you are. There is always going to be someone who is willing to love and accept all of you, even your flaws. They’ll find you when the universe says so and when you find them, you’ll know.”

Cas pulled his hand away so he could hug his mother instead. The feeling of her arms around him was grounding and comforting and it made the pounding in his head stop for just a moment. She wasn’t perfect but he wasn’t perfect either and at least one of his parents was trying their best to be an actual human being and make amends with him. He hugged her for a few more moments before he pulled away, a watery smile on his face.

“Thanks mom.” He said, pausing as a corner of white caught his eye a few feet behind his mother. “I think I found those paintings you were talking about.”

Grace seemed to perk up after the hug and her eyes lit up when Cas mentioned the paintings, turning on her feet to see where he was staring at. They were nestled in behind a large dresser and Grace stepped over a pile of old books to reach them, hauling the large canvases out from their hiding space and onto a spare dining room table just to the left of her. Each canvas was covered in a large sheet to keep the dust off it and Grace was giddy as she ran her fingers over the paintings she had found. 

“There’s a lot of these and if these are the ones I think they are, they might be a little freaky. This series has a lot of gore. Are you sure you want to see what your old mom has been painting all her life?”

Cas nodded his head, intrigued and a little excited to learn something new about his mother and her life. As Grace peeled back the dust cover to reveal the painting, Cas wished he had never asked. 

Staring directly at him from the surface of the canvas was the woman who haunted his dreams. Her red hair hung limp and greasy as it framed her sallow sickly face, sharp cheekbones carving out the hollows of her face. Chapped bloody lips pursed in silent prayer as blood tinged tears streaked through the dirt of her face but all of that paled in comparison to her eyes. Her grubby broken nailed fingers were pulling the skin around her eyes back, other hand digging through the socket as if trying to gouge her own eyes out. 

The more Cas stared at his nightmare displayed on the screen the sicker he felt and soon enough the room was beginning to spin, sweat collecting on his brow. What remained of her eyes seemed to be begging and pleading for help as she stared at Cas but he couldn’t move, paralysis setting into his limbs as his vision turned to tv static. He was dimly aware of his mother calling his name, the feeling of her hand on his arm so phantom it almost didn’t feel real.

With one final agonizing look at his nightmare come to life, Cas’ tv static vision cut to black and his unonscious body crumpled into his mother’s arms.

Chapter Text

Dean was curled up at the head of his bed, surrounded on either side by pens and notebooks, when he first heard the knocks. They were short and sharp and Dean had no idea who they belonged to. Charlie always barged in like she owned the place, Lee and Benny usually only knocked once, and on the rare occasion Thea showed up, she would announce herself before walking in. These knocks came in three and Dean’s curiosity was piqued. 

“Give me a minute here!” he called as he set his fluid mechanics notebook aside, climbing off of his bed. His feet slapped against the cold floor as he made his way to the door, pulling it open. 

He’d expected one of his friends but that expectation died when he saw Cas on the other side. 

Dean’s eyes scanned across the jeans and the striped polo shirt, sliding past the messenger bag that was slipping off of Cas’ shoulder and heading towards the tiled floor. They landed on Cas’ face, on the blue of his eyes and the slight part of his lips, and then they took in the messy hair and the uncharacteristic grin that was plastered on the other boy’s face. 

“You weren’t who I was expecting.” Dean admitted, wishing he’d tidied his room like he’d meant to earlier that day. “How’d you find this place?”

Cas simply shrugged his shoulders, a gesture that practically had Dean sweating under his sweater. “Thea told me. I pass by your apartment on my way to class anyway, and your name is on the door as the ra.”

“Right, yeah, that. So uh, it’s kinda good that you’re here because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about what happened at the party.”

Cas nodded his head in agreement but didn’t reply, instead leaning back on the balls of his feet as if he were trying to get a better angle of Dean. The silence, while not uncomfortable, was tense enough that Dean felt like he had to speak again. 

“Look, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything so I’m really sorry if I did. I was kind of drinking and while that’s not an excuse for crossing boundaries, it does explain why I was so handsy. You can tell me to fuck off if you want and I’ll just act like it never happened but I just really want my flannel back.”

Another little smile tugged at Cas’ lips as he shifted again. “I don’t want to tell you to fuck off and I’m not all that interested in talking.”

“What do you want if you don’t want to talk then?”

The confusion on Dean’s face was replaced with shock as he watched Cas surge forward, the feeling of lips on his own sudden but not unwelcome. Cas’ lips were as soft as they had been at the party but they were more insistent this time, a certain hunger seeming to possess Cas. He pushed Dean further back into his room, one hand on the back of Dean’s head to pull him closer while the other pushed the door shut. 

“I thought you didn’t-” Dean mumbled against Cas’ lips, hand reaching back behind him to steady himself against the edge of his coffee table, “want to do this again.”

Cas pressed himself against Dean, second hand gripping his hip over his sweatpants. His lips stilled against Dean’s for a moment, heavy breathing hanging in between them. “Don’t think too hard, just go with it.”

“Well I can’t if I keep thinking about the party.” Dean sighed. He knew his legs were pressed back against the bed, knew Cas was pressed against him, knew the hand on his head and the hand on his hip but it all seemed dull in comparison to the blood practically burning through his veins. 

“All I have been thinking about since Friday,” Cas said as he pulled away from Dean, “is one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Cas grinned again, giving Dean a gentle enough shove to the shoulders to topple him back onto the bed. He watched Dean bounce against the mattress and gave him a moment to settle before he was grabbing Dean’s calves and pulling him closer to the edge of the mattress. There was a distinct hunger in Cas’ eyes as he ran his hands up Dean’s thighs, burning eyes meeting Dean’s.

“All I want, Dean,” Cas said, humming low in his throat, “is your hard cock in my mouth.”

Dean blinked slowly, eyes wide as he propped himself up on his elbows. Something wasn’t quite right, Cas would never be this forward, but the simple statement was beginning to stir something deep in his belly and Dean was hard pressed to ignore it. By now Cas was pressing open mouthed kisses up his thighs and Dean wished he’d worn thinner pants, wished he’d had the foresight to plan for something like this.

“You’ll let me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

Dean inhaled sharply, one hand reaching out to swipe a few of his textbooks off of the bed so he didn’t get nailed in the neck by a hardcover corner. His other hand found its way to Cas’ hair, fingers running through it before hooking in and tugging slightly. He nodded his head but Cas didn’t seem all that impressed, open mouth kisses stopping midway up Dean’s left thigh.

“You have to tell me what you want, Dean.” Cas said simply, grabbing the waist of Dean’s sweats and yanking them down to his knees. “So tell me exactly what you want.”

Dean swallowed thickly, still shocked Cas even knew how to talk the way he was. There were two options, either be detailed and explicit like Cas asked or simply refuse, and refusal wasn’t something Dean wanted in his cards. 

“I want you to suck me off.” He answered, heart hammering in his ears. 

“Detail, Dean. Be explicit.”

There was the feeling of bare lips ghosting up Dean’s thighs as Cas’ kisses returned, fingers pressed into the meat as Cas pulled Dean’s legs further apart. Feather light but heavy with sinful intent, the kisses were going straight to Dean’s dick and he was growing harder with every passing second. By the time Cas made it to the edge of his boxers and Dean was able to formulate at least half of a coherent thought, he was more than half hard and heading towards aching. 

“I want-” a soft groan interrupted Dean’s speech as he felt Cas’ lips brush against his hard-on, “to feel your mouth on me. I want to feel your tongue, your lips, everything around me.”

“That it?” Cas asked, shifting on his feet so he could press wet kisses along Dean’s waist. 

Dean shook his head, letting go of Cas’ hair so he could tug his boxers down. He shifted to pull them down over his ass and then he was bare for all of Cas to see. There was no reason for Dean to be self-conscious, he knew he was a perfectly respectable six and a half inches, but something about being so exposed in front of the boy he’d been fantasizing about was enough to make him anxious.

Cas whistled quietly before grabbing Dean’s thighs to pull him closer to the edge of the bed once again, comfortably on his knees. He turned to spit onto his hand before turning back, wrapping a hand around Dean’s shaft. It was warm and hot in his grip, twitching in interest as he began the slow drag of his hand up and the even slower drag of his hand back down.

Dean bit back a groan, hand tightening in his sheets as he finally met Cas’ gaze. His blue eyes were more intense, a storming hunger in them that had Dean wanting to fall apart all over again. It seemed to drag something out of him, something he’d buried deep and wasn’t planning on ever reviving.

“Cas, please…” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “I need you to wrap your lips around my cock and blow me and I need to cum in that perfect fucking mouth of yours. God I just need you.”

Cas grinned in response before choosing to oblige in Dean’s wishes. He pumped his hand a few more times before he was dragging his tongue along the vein on the underside of Dean’s cock, swiping across the head before taking it into his mouth. His lips stretched as he took just the tip in, an experimental suckle pulling a sharp groan out of Dean’s lips. Rewarded with the groan, Cas glanced up at Dean to make eye contact as he took more of Dean into his mouth.

Dean knew what a blowjob was like, knew the wet heat that came with lips stretched around him and the need that built, but this was something else entirely different. There was a desire building up in the pits of his stomach, an urge to grab Cas’ head and push it down. He didn’t know how but he knew that Cas would make it fit and that thought alone was enough to make Dean shift his hips on principle.

Cas felt the blunt head of Dean’s cock bump against the roof of his mouth and he shifted his head, forcing his jaw to relax so he didn’t choke and pull off coughing. His eyes were beginning to water so he squeezed them shut, hand wrapped around what he couldn’t fit into his mouth.

“Your mouth feels so good, fuck-” Dean groaned, head falling back onto the mattress. The pressure was building in his stomach, building faster than it ever had before, and he didn’t want it to be over too quickly. Trying to stave off his orgasm was proving tricky but Dean was far too deep into it to worry about cumming too quickly and ending things.

Cas could feel every little twitch in his mouth and through his hand and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Dean was close. If his body language wasn’t enough then the moans and curses falling from his lips certainly were. His own need, while neglected by Dean, wasn’t entirely neglected it. Cas had pushed his clothing down his legs and had a hand wrapped around himself, pumping in time with the bobbing of his head.

“Cas, I’m so close.” Dean warned, hand scrabbling for purchase in Cas’ short hair.

Cas felt the tug on his hair and it was just enough to stun him and send his focus crashing down. His jaw tightened again and then he was choking around Dean’s cock, the sudden sensation enough to send Dean rushing off the edge into orgasm. Cas stayed where he was until Dean seemed like he was done and then he pulled off, swallowing Dean’s load before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dean’s chest heaved as he let the final rush of his orgasm run though him, propping himself back up on his elbows to get a better look at Cas. His hair was disheveled, completely tugged up from the roots every which way, and his swollen lips were slick with spit and cum. If Dean wasn’t human and didn’t need a refractory period, he’d have been rock hard almost immediately.

“Did you get what you needed?” Cas hummed, gravelly voice somehow rougher than it had been before.

Dean began to speak but there was something playing in the background, some kind of music coming from outside the window that was far too distracting to ignore. He pulled himself into a seated position to glance through his curtains but the second he did that, Dean felt like he was falling. His muscles tensed and tingles ran through him until everything was too fuzzy to focus on.

It was with a sudden jump to his heart and heavy disappointment that Dean’s body was jolting awake. End credit music for the movie they’d been watching in detective fiction was playing as he lifted his head from the desk, blinking rapidly to bring the dark classroom into focus. He didn’t remember falling asleep but that was the least of his problems as he shifted to grab his bag, panic setting in.

It was a ten minute walk back to his dorm so he didn’t have to walk long and he knew he could spend most of it inside and away from people but there was a short stretch he couldn’t avoid. The last thing Dean wanted was the general student population to see his chub as he tried to get to his room. He was more than thankful that he wore loose pants that day and as he swung his bag onto his shoulder, he made a discreet adjustment he hoped would save him. With a final beat of panic and an echoing breath, Dean left the classroom and braved the outdoors.

His mind raced with thoughts of the dream and how real it had felt as he walked, head kept down so no one saw the flush of his cheeks or the way he bit his lip to keep from talking to himself. Cas would never be so forward and he certainly didn’t know where Dean lived but apparently Dean wanted him to know, wanted more than just Cas knowing. His plan was simple; all he had to do was get into his apartment and take a very cold shower to get rid of his problem. It was quick, it was easy, and there was no hope of it working as Dean walked into his apartment and saw his room door open.

Charlie was the first person he noticed when he stepped into his room, eyeing her perched position on the chair as she unfolded a screen she kept tucked in a bag covered in collector’s pins. Benny and Lee sat on either side of her with sheets and notebooks spread in front of them, little painted minis and dice spread haphazardly.

“You’re late, dude.” Charlie said, pausing to pull out a thick notebook of her own.

“I forgot we were doing this today and not Thursday, okay, so sorry.” Dean mumbled, dropping his bag on the floor. “I need like fifteen to shower first so you’ll have to wait a little bit longer.”

“Need company while you shower? I’ve got my bag of chocolate chips and a wild story to tell you.”

Dean shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I love your shower time stories, Charlie, but not today.”

With that Dean slipped into his bathroom and shut the door, grateful that the fan was as loud and roaring as it was. Being the ra had perks, it meant a bigger room with an en-suite bathroom he didn’t have to share but it also meant a strange but fulfilling codependency with his friends. Sure it wasn’t that weird to sit in the bathroom to talk to your friends while they showered but Dean knew if people knew Charlie was a girl, they’d think they were sleeping together.

The water was freezing as it hit Dean’s bare skin and he shivered in response, coolness spreading across him. He could think here, could think out loud if he really wanted to, but all he wanted was the water to do its job. It started to work but the relief Dean felt was quickly overtaken when he dared to indulge in a snippet of the dream. Cas’ aggressiveness, well not Cas but still Cas, was more of a turn on than Dean cared to admit and the more he thought about it the more the snippet became a replay of the dream in its entirety. Ten minutes passed and then fifteen and try as he might, Dean couldn’t seem to get rid of his problem and the sudden knock on the door wasn’t helping.

“Are you drowning in there dude?” Benny was asking, his voice echoing through the door.

Dean paused, huffed in response, and took a step out of the shower. He opened the door a crack, just enough to see Benny’s face, sighing deeply. “I need you three to get out of my room for like maybe ten minutes.”

“And why do we- oh… oh yeah, we’ll uh give you your privacy.” Benny mumbled, realization dawning on his face before closing the door and ushering the other two out of Dean’s room.

Dean was finally alone with his thoughts and that cut through the awkward tension enough that he could do what he needed to do. It didn’t take long for Dean to lose himself in the memory and he was already far gone by the time he wrapped his hand around himself. Two, three, four strokes later he was done and finished, chest heaving as he turned the water off. Once he was clothed and all set, he popped his head out into the kitchen.

“You’re all free to come back now.”

“You gonna tell us what that was all about? Cuz you’ve got someone in your head and I think that that’s a little more important right now than our campaign.” Lee said as he slipped in.

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes as he ushered Charlie in and then made a beeline for his usual seat at the head of the table. He knew they wouldn’t press if he told them not to but he didn’t exactly feel like keeping everything to himself was the best idea either so the only option was to open up.

“I met hot English guy at the party and then sort of got cockblocked cuz he got wigged out and ran away and I thought that might be the end of it but it isn’t.” Dean explained, pulling his legs up crisscross on the chair. “I thought we could talk about it in class today but he wasn’t there and then we were watching a movie and I kind of fell asleep and had a dream about him.”

“I knew you were ‘into him’ into him but damn man, a dream during the day is serious shit.” Charlie grinned.

“Yeah it is serious and I’m kind of mad because he isn’t the most available and I’m totally down to not talk about it with him but he has my flannel.”

Lee raised an eyebrow, shifting so he could lean against Benny. “You have like fourteen flannels, don’t see why that matters.”

“It’s my dad’s flannel.”

The shift in mood was nearly instantaneous, Dean going quiet and subdued. Charlie’s concern was evident, made worse by the fact she’d been there for every incident involving the flannel that seemed to haunt Dean like a ghost. Benny and Lee, while not fully aware of the entire story, knew enough to know that it was a serious matter.

“Thea’s got his number, I can ask her to text him about the shirt if you want. Or I can get her to give you his number and you can ask.” Charlie offered. “He’s a sweet guy, he’s probably got the shirt washed and hung up somewhere in his closet. Cas doesn’t sound like the kind of dude to just destroy something.”

“Cas, that’s his name? Doesn’t sound too douche, not like Lee.”

“You shut your mouth, Benny. Lee is not an asshole name.” Lee laughed, playfully shoving Benny’s shoulder. “But seriously Dean, just text the dude asking to meet up. Clearly you like the guy if you’re having a sexy dream about him in the middle of the day.”

“All of you are in years long committed relationships so I don’t know how much I like your advice. Cas is just, I don’t know. He’s hot but there’s something else about him that I like but I don’t know him well enough to know what it is yet. I mean Thea likes him but her taste is questionable.”

At that comment Charlie glanced up from her phone with an expression of mock offense, reaching across the coffee table to hit Dean’s arm hard. “I am a catch and her taste is phenomenal. Now give me your phone, dickhead.”

“Are you going to be a nice dm if I give you my phone?” Dean asked, already handing her his phone. “Because last session you kicked the crap out of poor Twinkles and he cannot handle that again.”

“Maybe he should’ve thought twice about taking that cursed idol then.”

“He’s literally a raccoon and in his defense, it was a religious idol and you know what clerics are like. Twinkles did nothing wrong.” Dean replied, starting to relax.

Charlie shook her head, far too preoccupied with Dean’s phone to answer. She had hers next to his and scrolled through her conversation with Thea until she found exactly what she was looking for, a wide grin plastered onto her face. With all the speed of a meddling best friend, she grabbed Dean’s phone and made him a new contact. It was only with the expression on her face that Dean realized what was happening.

“Charlie, I swear to God…” He mumbled, already leaning across the table and readying himself to grab at the phone.

She grinned and slid off of the chair, hiding behind it as she started a new conversation with the new contact. It was a quick rapid fire message that she managed to send before she saw Dean vaulting over the table, feeling the phone slip out of her hand as he landed beside her. Dean seemed mildly panicked as he grabbed his phone, staring at the screen and the conversation Charlie had started that he hadn’t asked her to.

Hey Cas, it’s Dean (the one you ran away from). You’ve still got my flannel and I’d like it back, think we could meet somewhere for the exchange and maybe for coffee?

Chapter Text

Cas knew he’d find himself in the same graveyard that had become the epicenter of every horrific dream he’d had if he opened his eyes, so he kept them firmly closed.

He didn’t want to see the gnarled oak with its dark pulsing roots and he didn’t want to see the army of headstones spread out in front of him. They beckoned towards the mausoleum with a malice that Cas had long since grown used to and it was almost tiring now. Grey clouds thick with ozone and the smell of sulfur in the air were expected and Cas was doing his best to take breaths without using his nose so it didn’t coat the inside of his mouth and lungs and steal his breath away.

Simply willing himself to wake up wasn’t possible and the migraine he always got afterwards wasn’t worth it anyhow. He couldn’t wake up and he didn’t want to move but he couldn’t stay in the same place either so it was with a deep breath of resignation that he opened his eyes.

Everything was different.

The mausoleum, the headstones, even the withered oak, all of it was gone. Hard packed dirt replaced the ground beneath his bare feet and the sky was streaked through with dusky clouds. Cool crisp air filled Cas’ lungs as he took breath after breath to try and clear the dizziness from his head.

“What is happening?” He murmured to himself, leaning back against the strong oak to take a better look at his surroundings.

The hard packed dirt was some kind of rudimentary road and Cas’ eyes traced up the path until they came to a structure of wood and stone. Thick walls of stone rose on all sides and wooden shutters open on either side of the door framed glassless windows flickering with some kind of light. Cas couldn’t see what was going on in the building but the mounting dread in his stomach lost out as his legs began to move him.

The closer he got to the building, the more apprehensive he was becoming. There was mud staining the bottoms of his pants and the chill in the air was beginning to set into his bones, his breath puffing out of his mouth in little clouds of white. A female voice was drifting from the home and Cas crept closer, curious as to who it was. It was only when he peered through the window that he wished he hadn’t looked.

“Look at you my love.” The woman murmured, back turned to Cas as she bent over a crib. “My perfect angel, my sweet Temperance.”

Cas hadn’t recognized the sweet lilt of the voice but her fiery red hair was unmistakable and his stomach was churning as he tried to prepare for the sight of seeing her sallow eyeless face. But the gaping holes never came and Cas instead saw a pair of warm brown eyes.

“I thank God for you every day but this life will not be easy for you.” The woman murmured, wrapping a scarf around her body before picking up Temperance and setting her inside. With a basket in her hand, the woman left the building and turned down the hard packed road.

Cas thought about slipping inside to snoop but something held him back. He didn’t know if it was the apprehension or the curiosity of where the woman was headed now but either way, he found himself turning and following after her. She walked past buildings, a well, and then took a turn back into the thick woods. Cas hurried behind her, the hard packed dirt turning soft and muddy the further into the woods he went.

“There are things in this world that will not be fair and I may not be able to protect you.” She murmured, suddenly freezing in place.

Cas froze when he felt the twig snap beneath his foot, praying she hadn’t seen him and judging by the stark white terror on her face it didn’t seem like she had.

“Who’s there?”

Before Cas could respond someone else stepped out from the safety of the trees, their boots squelching in the mud. Cas couldn’t see their face but he knew it had to be a man, the confident posture and pants a dead giveaway. The woman didn’t seem comforted by his presence, her shoulders tensing and her posture shifting.

“Stay away from me.” She hissed, heels digging into the mud as she prepared to flee.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” The man replied, his voice icy cold and harsh. “After everything I’ve done for you and your child, I deserve some recompense. Your services, one more time. That’s all I want.”

“I told you no the last time and I meant it.”

In one swift motion the man stepped forward, large hand wrapping around her wrist and pulling her closer. “And I don’t take no for an answer, Anna.”

Cas’ blood boiled in his veins, the scene playing out like an eerie reminder of his mother and father, and if he wasn’t so afraid of being choked out again he knew he’d do something about it. Luckily for him, the woman made her own decision. She stared at the man before nodding her head, pulling her arm away.

“Very well. I’ll see you at midnight, councillor.”

A moment of tense silence passed between the pair before the councillor turned on his heels and left, stalking past Cas on his way into the village. By the time Cas turned back around, the woman was practically running towards the bank of the river stretching out in the distance. Horrified by what he’d seen, Cas shot off after the woman. It didn’t matter what she’d do if she saw him, he just wanted to know that the baby was alright.

The woods pressed down on either side as he ran, trees bending under an impossible weight as their branches hit his arms. Mud sucked at his bare feet and Cas tried not to slip as he took a sharp right turn, the sounds of the river barely drowning out the sound of his own rapidly beating heart. He made it in time to see the woman set the basket down on a flat rock and he held back, slipping behind a tree to watch from afar.

“They’re never going to stop, Temperance.” She murmured, taking a seat on the rock. “I’ve told them no time and time again and all they do is force me. Enough is enough, I refuse to be complicit in the destruction of all of this anymore.”

Temperance cooed up at her mother, chubby fists waving in the air.

The woman stared out at the rushing river in front of her, the resignation of what was to come a heavy burden on her shoulders. A minute passed, then two, and then the woman was standing again as she took hold of the basket containing her babe. Three steps and then the woman was at the river, crouching down to let the water run over her hand.

“I never should have brought you into this world of terror, so please, my child, forgive me.” She murmured, voice catching in her throat. “She will protect you, she’s sworn it to me. Grow up to be kind and caring, grow up knowing that your mother will right the atrocities she has wrought upon humanity.”

Cas knew what was about to happen before it happened but even that was too late and by the time he took his first step forward, the basket and child were already racing away in the river sure to be torn to shreds. The woman was openly sobbing now, collapsed onto her knees with her head in her hands. She didn’t hear Cas’ approach but it didn’t really matter because she was mumbling to herself, incessant babbling matching the shaking of her hands over her eyes.

“It ends now, it ends tonight. I have to stop it, I have to.” She mumbled, thumbs pressing into her temples as if she were preparing for something.

Cas felt the liquid hit his face and then he was falling through nothingness, the shock startling him awake. He jerked awake, choking on liquid and scrabbling to grab onto the first thing he could find. The first thing he happened to find was a warm body and he shifted, burying his face into the shoulder that was right there.

“Woah, okay sweetheart. You’re alright.” His mother murmured, wrapping her arms around him. The pair were on the concrete floor of the storage unit and the puddle currently soaking into the hem of Cas’ pants was the remnants of the water his mother had splashed onto his face to cool him down.

Cas’ chest heaved as he gulped in the fresh air, heartbeat still dizzying loud in his ears. He could feel the weight of his mother’s arms around him and slowly but surely he was able to calm himself, pulling away from her and wiping at his face with his hand.

“What happened?” he croaked, voice hoarse. “I was looking and then I just- I don’t know how I got down here.”

“I showed you one of my paintings and you fainted, that’s how you got down here. I’m used to people fainting when they see my work but I thought I’d warned you enough, I guess I didn’t.”

Cas shook his head, wobbling to his feet and reaching out to steady himself on one of the tables. “Definitely wasn’t ready, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. But I will kill you if you do something like that again.”

Cas nodded, closing his eyes to try and reorient himself. The spray of the river and the woman’s blood, Anna's blood, was still itching on his face but he resisted the urge to scratch, paranoid he would worry his mother even more than he already had. Thoughts of the woman were floating around his brain and Cas couldn’t reconcile the terrifying eyeless thing that had tried to choke the life out of him with the woman who he’d seen send her baby down the river. Even worse than that, he couldn’t understand how his mother knew what the woman looked like.

“I think we should get you home, you look like you need to rest. Your father should have his things by now so there’s no worry that we’re going to run into him, at least I hope not.”

“Didn’t you want to get all of your painting stuff today though?” Cas asked, leaning down to pick up his phone. “I’m fine if you want to stay and grab things.

Grace shook her head, pausing to gesture to a large tote sitting on one of the coffee tables. “That’s got just about everything I need for now, the furniture I’ll pick up another time. I’m more just worried about getting you home and getting some food into you, I don’t think you’ve eaten all day.”

“No, I don’t think I did eat today.”

Grace, still in a hurry to get Cas out and back home, simply nodded her head before picking up the tote and pushing Cas out of the unit. She got it locked up and kept a close eye on Cas as the pair made their way back to the car. With the tote secured and her son safely in the front seat, Grace decided to break the silence on the drive home. 

“You told me earlier that you were having dreams that were scaring you, do you think that not sleeping night have made you faint today?”

Cas practically winced at the mention of the dreams, unsure of how to proceed. Telling his already overly stressed mother about his insane dreams involving a woman he had never seen before and wasn’t entirely sure was real didn’t seem like a great way to make her less stressed. Not telling her wasn’t an option either, he knew she would keep asking and asking until he relented and told her anyway.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t sleep well anyway.” He shrugged, trying to stay casual. “Where did you find the model for that painting? I know she’s in the entire series, I’ve seen the prints that Thea has.”

Grace seemed to hesitate in response, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “There isn’t a simple answer for that so I’d prefer not to talk about it tonight. I really think we just need to get home because I need to decompress and I’m sure you do too.”

“I do, yeah. I need to try and figure some stuff out tonight.”

“You and me both, sweetheart. We’ve got leftovers in the fridge so we should be alright on that end. I’m going to shower and then I might try to get your father’s old office sort of set up into a studio space.”

“Okay, do what works for you. I’ve got to talk to Thea, she’s probably sent me a million texts already today.” Cas sighed as she slid out of the car, relieved to see that all of Chuck’s things were gone from the porch.

He was the first into the house and was immediately heading up to his room, planning on replying to Thea’s expected texts and subsequently calling her to explain the insanity of the day but there were no texts from her when he checked his phone. There was, however, a text from an unknown number and Cas opened it curiously.

Hey Cas, it’s Dean (the one you ran away from). You’ve still got my flannel and I’d like it back, think we could meet somewhere for the exchange and maybe for coffee?

Cas’ heart jumped in his chest when he read the text, both alarmed that Dean somehow had his number and oddly thrilled the boy had reached out. He knew which flannel it was, knew it was hung up in his closet just waiting to be returned, and wondered why Dean seemed so antsy about getting it back. His secondary thought was about how Dean got his number but quickly came to the realization that Thea, well Charlie on Thea’s behalf, had given him the number.

The thrill was fleeting, nonetheless, and Cas soon found the anxiety rising again through his stomach and into his chest. Would Dean expect them to start dating because of what happened? Would he expect sex if he asked? Would Cas even be willing to give him that if he asked? The thoughts were too many too fast and Cas was overwhelmed, his heart racing and his skin clamming up. He wanted to ask Thea what she would do but she was clearly still at work and there was no way in hell that he was going to ask his aunt about it. Not after everything she’d hidden from him.

That left a single option and it was with great trepidation that Cas pulled himself from his bed, leaving his room and heading towards the office. He knew that the desk, the cabinets, and the office chair would remain but he had no clue what his mother would do to make the office her own. Cas didn’t know her enough to guess and even if he did, she seemed to surprise him with every new situation. He knocked once, a short sharp rap, before he stepped into a room he hardly recognized.

The desk had been pushed off to one side, already covered in towers of canvas and small totes of so many colours of paint Cas’ eyes began to sting. Cabinets stood on either side of the window and little figures sat atop them, the crocheted hippo and unicorn keeping a watchful eye on all who entered. Grace had done something with the office chair because it was nowhere to be seen and somehow that reassured Cas that the space his father once held in the house was gone, permanently.

“You really did change it in here.” Cas commented, trying not to scare his mother.

Grace, her back turned to Cas, jumped despite his volume. “That is the second heart attack you’ve given me today, young man.”

“Sorry.”

Grace offered Cas a simple smile before leaning back against the desk, the picture of relaxed. There was something in his body language, a tension in his jaw, a worried glint in his eye, and Grace’s smile dampened. “What’s the matter? You look like you need to talk.”

“I need advice. I’d usually ask Thea but she’s busy and I really don’t want to talk to aunt Amara right now so I’m talking to you.” Cas mumbled, rubbing his hands together anxiously. “It’s um- it’s about someone I’ve kind of sort of met.”

“Romantic kind of met?”

Cas nodded his head.

Grace smiled again, shifting on the desk to make space for Cas to come lean against it. “You’ll have to give me some more information about this, sweetheart. I can guess but I don’t think that you’ll like my guesses very much.”

“He’s been in my classes for the last three years, if that helps. We’ve never really talked outside of class but we argue all the time in it so I know he’s kind of smart.” Cas explained, hesitating as he considered whether or not to tell his mother about what had happened at the party. “We-um, so I sort of went to a party last Friday.”

Grace grinned, wrapping an arm around Cas and squeezing gently. “I thought you were out late, heard your door squeak at midnight or so. Anyways, you’re saying you went to the party where I’m assuming something happened with this guy.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Alright, so how far did you go? That usually complicates things and I can assume that you haven’t talked to him since and that that’s why you’re a little apprehensive about going to English if he’s there.”

Cas flushed red as he recalled the night of the party. It was impossible to scrub it from his mind, not that he really wanted to. He’d be more than happy to have the encounter with Dean haunt his dreams. It certainly beat the alternative. The realization that he was confiding in his mother on such a sensitive and private matter wasn’t lost on Cas but he wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d expected to be. Grace, for all her faults, seemed to be a remarkable listener.

“We just kissed, that’s all. I got a little wigged out and kind of maybe ran away.”

“Is that all?” Grace asked, trying to keep her tone judgement free.

“Well, no, I guess not. So his best friend is apparently my best friend’s girlfriend and that’s only relevant because one of them gave him my number and he wants to meet up for maybe coffee because he kind of spilled a drink on me and then gave me his flannel to wear and its hung up in my closet right now.”

“So you’re worried about what ‘coffee’ actually means then.”

Cas nodded, shoulders sagging. The anxiety was beginning to churn in his stomach so he hoped his mom knew enough to calm him down so he could at least try to sleep for the night.

“My only advice, which I’m not entirely qualified to give given my dating history, is simple. Coffee means whatever you want it to and in this case, I’m thinking that coffee, for you, means returning the flannel and clearing the air about what happened on Friday. Sure something else may come of it if that’s what you both decide but there isn’t any pressure to do more than you want to.”

“Except there kind of is because Friday probably made him think that I wanted more.”

“Well, do you?”

“I- maybe, I don’t know.” Cas grumbled, running a hand over his face. “It’s all so new and I kind of threw myself in the deep end and he didn’t seem like he’d be pushy but I don’t know. I don’t want to seem like I don’t want to give it up at all but I also don’t want to just jump in because I don’t know what I’m doing and I am way too scared to try looking up any advice online.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself right now by worrying about a future that isn’t guaranteed but you already know that.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to handle this and I opened his message so I feel like I owe him a reply.”

Grace nodded, pausing to think. The silence between the pair was edging towards slightly uncomfortable as she thought, Cas’ brain still jumping from one impossible scenario to another. He wished the situation was like some kind of romantic meet cute where it would all just be a big misunderstanding easily wrapped up after a bout or three of frustrating miscommunication but he knew better. Life wasn’t a romcom and meet cutes didn’t exist.

“I would just say that coffee sounds good and leave it at that. He’ll offer a time and a place and then you can coordinate from there. If you don’t want to do that, you can always give him a time and place and let him decide if that works. That puts the control back in your hands.”

“And you’re sure he’d agree to it if I took initiative?”

Grace raised an eyebrow, her expression one of fond exasperation. “Sweetheart, he’s already kissed you and asked you for coffee so yes I do think he’d agree to it. I think he’d be thrilled to be honest. But you don’t have to answer today, you can take some time to think and answer tomorrow.”

The thought of Dean agreeing to coffee, of what Cas imagined the crooked little smile on his face would be, was enough to stir a few flutters in his stomach and he knew he was still red in the face. His mother was right, of course she was, and he was grateful that she was around despite how conflicted he felt about everything else going on. He took a minute to collect his thoughts before pulling away from her, pushing away from the desk.

“I think I’m going to try and maybe get some sleep even though it’s early, passing out really takes it out of you. Are you staying up or?”

“I’d really like to finish organizing this place so I think I’ll stay up.” Grace replied. “Try to have sweet dreams, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Cas smiled back at his mother, mumbled a quick “love you” and was then out the door and headed upstairs in the hopes of sleeping without more nightmares plaguing him.

Grace waited until she was sure Cas was safely in his bed before she closed the door to the room, taking a deep shuddering breath to shake free the emotions she didn’t want to burden her son with. The bone deep anger came first, a rage so embedded in her bones Grace was practically vibrating with it. Sadness burst through the wall like a battering ram, the wave of anguish ripping a quiet sob from her throat and releasing the dam holding back the tears building in her eyes.

But none of that mattered when she felt the first familiar tingling spike of pain in her head.

“No, no, no… please no.” she whispered, wiping at her eyes to force the tears away.

She knew her pleading was no good. It hadn’t worked twenty one years ago and it wasn’t going to work this time either.

The pain spiked and her vision swam with black dots as she hurried to a shelf, pulling a canvas from it. Her fingers twitched with the memory of her actions and when the canvas hit the table, there was already a pencil waiting. The dots were changing now, colours appearing as they coalesced into a shape she knew instinctively but couldn’t quite recognize. Twenty one years ago the outcome had been horrific, three paintings spanning something she’d never even told a soul. She’d burned them before anyone had seen them, determined that her anxieties would never reach anyone but herself.

The compulsion to paint what was rattling inside her head had always been impossible to resist and it drove her as a painter, drove her to dark corners she hadn’t known had even existed. It had produced her greatest works and her greatest nightmares, neither of which she remembered painting.

She seemed to float out of her head, watching her hand scrawl a sketch across the canvas. Rocks cut through rushing rapids, muddy shores were caked with plant debris, and the sky was cloudless but that didn’t matter. There was a wicker basket, a screaming child barely shielded from the water trying to drown it.

“I don’t want to paint this.” Grace whispered, her voice tinny as it echoed in her own ears. “Please, don’t make me.”

There was no response and Grace was beginning to grow weary, her hold on what she was doing thinning and growing fuzzier with each passing second. The final thing she saw before the compulsion took over was the same woman she had seen tear her own eyes out, the same woman that haunted an entire series of paintings.

She’d seen the face of God and it was a lie.

Chapter Text

Cas had survived horrifically targeted Church sermons, the wrath of his father, and horrifically mind exploding nightmares but they all seemed to pale in comparison to sending the text currently drafted on his phone. It had been staring at him for the last fifteen minutes, the blinking cursor telling him that the period was in fact at the end of his sentence (not that Dean seemed like the kind of guy who’d be upset about a missing period).

He could simply send it off and then proceed to ignore his phone until he heard it go off but his anxiety didn’t seem to think that was a good idea, fingers tapping nervously against his pants as he continued to stare. Not sending the message wasn’t an option either, not after he’d poured his heart out to his mother in the middle of her crisis. Cas hadn’t seen her that morning, now that he was thinking about it, and he pursed his lips in a frown.

He was quick to check her bedroom once he’d gotten ready for the day but he didn’t see her there. Her absence didn’t surprise him, she’d always been able to function on little sleep, so he assumed she was exactly where he’d left her the night before. She wasn’t though, the door to the new studio firmly closed, and it was only when he smelled the telltale scent of maple bacon that he knew she’d settled back into her weekly routine.

“Smells good.” He chirped, making his way into the kitchen for his usual breakfast and cup of coffee. “Didn’t see you in bed, thought you might be in your studio.”

Grace glanced up from where she had just finished dishing out two plates of breakfast, her warm smile lighting up her tired eyes. “Couldn’t let you get off to class or me off to work without breakfast now could I. How’d you sleep?”

“Better. I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out on my feet which is nice. Did you sleep?”

Grace simply shrugged her shoulders, choosing to eat breakfast instead of answering. There was no point in worrying Cas and quite frankly, there was no way she could explain it in a way that made her seem like she was fine and not altogether an egg shy of a dozen.

 "Did you ever respond to that boy?” She asked, glancing at her son from over her cup of coffee. “I can’t quite tell if your anxiety is because you did or because you didn’t.”

“I haven’t, yet. I’ve written a response like three separate times but it doesn’t feel like it sounds cool. Not that I’ve ever thought about sounding cool before.”

Grace chuckled, setting her coffee down before sliding her eyes down to Cas’ phone. “I can take your phone and send it for you if you’d like. Or you can send it, or don’t and just stay in limbo but I think that that might drive you a little insane so you won’t do that.”

Cas didn’t hesitate to hand his phone over to his mother. Removing choice from the equation was the easiest solution and while it did little to still his heart, it did strengthen his resolve. He heard the familiar whoosh and knew Dean was getting the text any moment, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Thanks, mom.”

 “Any time, sweetheart.” She smiled. “I’ll be a little late getting home, I have some things I need to take care of with the lawyers and I was hoping to talk with your aunt today. I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine. I don’t know how late it’ll be when I get home either, between if he answers and classes and then I’ve got some of my own stuff I need to do. Just some personal research mainly.”

“Well good luck with everything, please let me know how it all goes. Don’t forget to have a good day while you’re at it, too. We make our day to day, sweetheart. Remember that I love you.”

Cas heard the scrape of the stool as his mother pushed away from the table and felt her hand on his shoulder, the absentminded but loving kiss to the top of his forehead just part of their daily routine. It filled him with warmth and determination, a brightness preparing him for the long dark rabbit hole of research ahead.

The library, contrary to even Cas’ expectations, was not the place where he started his research. He found himself, for the second time in the last couple weeks, walking through the front door of Deadly Delights Apothecary. It was exactly the same as it had been before, the same plants and crystals adorning the space. There was a peculiar scent wafting through the air and the clove laden smoke tickled Cas’ nostrils, transporting him to somewhere that felt just left of time and outside of space.

Rowena wasn’t at the front desk this time and neither was Thea so Cas’ already anxious mood was soured when he came upon the distinctly weasel-like proportions of his older brother. Gabe looked the same as he had the previous week and he seemed surprised to see Cas, eyebrow shooting up as he pushed off of the counter.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not here to yell at you about mom so relax.” Cas mumbled, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m here for Rowena, I’ve got a couple questions for her.”

“So you and mom are cool then? Cuz you don’t seem all that angry and you don’t look like you’ve had the shit kicked out of you so it seems like it must be going relatively well-ish.”

“We’re getting better, a lot’s happened. Her and dad are divorced now, she kicked him out too.”

Gabe’s other eyebrow shot up and he whistled, hands thrown up in minute celebration. “It’s about time she put the asshole out, man has always been a great big bag of dicks. She moved Amara in yet?”

Cas shook his head, fingers tapping on his arms in irritation. He hadn’t counted on running into Gabe and he didn’t feel like dealing with his brother’s antics either. There was a time and place for the level of child-like wonder Gabe seemed to exude and unfortunately for Gabe, he hadn’t quite figured out when that was yet.

“January, mark my words. Amara got offered some new job in the anthro or history department, pretty sure she’s gonna take it which means she does need a place to live.”

“Okay cool, so they can deal with it when that happens then. It isn’t any of my business. Now can you please go get your fiancée so I can ask her my questions?”

Gabe rolled his eyes but turned on his heels regardless, pushing the beaded curtains aside before sliding into the back. “You are no fun, Cassie.”

Cas rolled his eyes, arms still crossed as he waited. He could feel the telltale vibration of a text from where his phone sat in his pocket and it seemed to set his anxiety off again, no way to tell yet if the text was from a friend or from Dean. He’d have to set a text tone for one of them but the idea of a sound going off filled him with nothing but dread and boomer induced cringe (as Thea would call it).

Rowena appeared from the back room a few seconds later, a cup of tea in one hand and a smile on her perfectly made up face. Cas had only met her a couple of times but every single time she seemed like she had absolutely everything together and it was more than a little intimidating.

“Gabe says that you were looking for me. What can I do for you?”

“You’re doing your PhD in history, right?”

Rowena nodded, leaning against the counter. “Local history, yeah. Why, do you have a burning question about the who’s who?”

“Not so much about who’s who but about finding someone, yeah.” Cas said, thinking about how to word the question without sounding like someone who wasn’t quite in touch with reality.

 “Well, I am good at finding people but I am going to need a little more information than the nothing you’ve given me. How about a surname or any identifying features? Or why you want to find this person?”

“No idea why I need to find her just that I do. I think her name is Anna but I don’t know much more than that.”

“Is she your age or older? I can’t make a cake if you just give me baking soda, dear.” Rowena chuckled, reaching for a piece of paper and a pen to scrawl a few things down as they chatted.

“Older, like would’ve died a long time ago. I don’t know her last name and I can’t tell you anything about her that would be helpful except that I think she had a daughter named Temperance. Local, I think.”

“Okay, maybe I can work with that. At the very least I can tell you where to start. Try to town hall or the library first, you’ll need microfiche depending on how far back you think you’ll need to look. Even digitized records from like the 1700’s exist and might be able to help you.”

Cas nodded, doing his best to commit everything Rowena was saying to memory. It was a lot, more than he was sure he would remember, but it was helpful regardless. He wanted to tell her why he was asking but he wasn’t entirely sure why he was asking and while he didn’t care what his brother thought about him, he did seem to care what she thought.

“I appreciate your advice, thanks. I’ve got to get going but before I do, make sure to take good care of my brother. He’s an idiot but he’s the only brother that I like.”

“Will you let me know what you’re looking for when you find it?” She asked curiously, peering at Cas with the intensity of a cat watching its dinner swim around in a fish tank. It had less to do with the question and more to do with the aura that seemed to be manifesting darkly around Cas.

“Sure, if I ever find out.”

Cas’ phone was in his hand the second he stepped out of the shop, the glare from the sun making the screen nearly unreadable. His curiosity was killing him and he ducked underneath the first spot of shade he could find, a small tree jutting out just in front of the hallowed halls of Saint Mary’s Church. He scanned the text quickly, trying to juggle his emotions from the text with his emotions from Rowena’s conversation.

So glad you agreed to meet, I’m free whenever. Lmk what works for you!

Cas didn’t have to think too hard about how he wanted to respond, knowing the power was in his hands and that Dean seemed excited in the response. He sent a simple reply, outlining a time and a place that he knew Dean would be more than happy to make work and added an emoji for the extra flair. Cas didn’t know if guys liked emojis so all he did was pray that Dean did.

888 Adelaide Street in about 15? I’m out by the gate, see you then :)

Dean, who had woken up that morning with a surprising pep in his step, hadn’t expected a text back from Cas at all. He’d asked for the meeting but was prepared to resign his flannel to a lonely life in some strange boy’s closet until he’d actually looked at his phone while drinking his morning coffee.

The text had been short and simple but Dean had nearly jumped for joy, only offering Benny and Lee a sheepish smile when they peered out from their doors to see what all of the fuss was about. He’d get his flannel back but he’d also get the chance to have coffee with a cute guy and maybe, just maybe, fix the miscommunication between them that had been causing the leg shaking dreams that were all he seemed to know now.

Dean was quick to hop into the shower and clean up, artfully selecting a tastefully faded band tee and a pair of jeans not quite ripped so much as they were lovably worn down. Cas wouldn’t care what he wore, he wasn’t the shallow conceited type, but that didn’t mean that Dean wanted to lessen his own standards. With his father’s wedding band on its usual finger and his usual bracelet decorating his wrist, Dean was headed out of his apartment and towards his car.

The address Cas had given him sounded vaguely familiar but Dean couldn’t quite place where it was. It existed as a concept in his mind, a vague thumbtack on a map that seemed like it had been waterlogged just one too many times. The unknown didn’t bother him though and the mere thought of anxiety was laughable. Consciously, Dean knew he had nothing to worry about. He was reasonably attractive, knew how to flirt, and knew that Cas wasn’t the kind of person who responded predictably to standard methods of getting all intimate and personal.

Unconsciously, however, Dean’s anxiety was chewing through the wires in his brain that let him think. He thought Cas was attractive, wanted to get to know him in more than just the casual sense, and really wanted his flannel back but there was no guarantee. The universe hadn’t told him that he would come across as charming and it certainly hadn’t guaranteed him the chance to even be friends with the other boy. All the universe had done was hand him a lotto ticket and dare him to scratch it off.

“Come on baby, play me a good one.” He murmured, pulling out of the parking lot.

Baby did not disappoint and soon Dean was serenaded with the sweet crooning of Robert Plant. All My Love was romantic and it was helping Dean relax, the riffs and the lyrics getting him in the mood. A little flirting wouldn’t hurt anything but that seemed to warp when Dean pulled up to 888 Adelaide Street.

The first thing that had Dean raising his eyebrow was the towering spire of a church. An iron cross blocked out the sun and cast a shadow across Dean’s face, obscuring it from the glaring light. The second thing Dean noticed was the absolute boat of a car parked just left of the church. Beige and longer than it should’ve been, the Lincoln continental was a crime not only against classic cars but against humanity as well.

“I’d hate to drive that thing.” Dean mumbled as he shifted on his feet, trying to find Cas.

Dean had half a mind to check inside the church given Cas’ religion but something else caught his eye and he turned away. There was someone in the graveyard next to the church, a long figure leaning against a wizened oak tree, and Dean knew right away it had to be Cas. No one else he knew was crazy enough to hang out in a graveyard.

“Cas, hey!” He called, heading towards the tree.

Cas was lost deep in thoughts concerning the red haired woman and her daughter, mulling over the name he heard and the visions haunting his dreams. Someone knew who she was, someone had to have cared enough to take care of her body and carve her headstone. Dean’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and Cas turned, the anxiety returning full force as the weight on his chest returned. Luckily for him, Dean seemed confident enough for the both of them.

“Interesting meeting place. D’you take all the boys you like here? Or am I just special?”

Cas’ response left his mouth before he could even think about it, a residual reply from dealing with his brother. “Who says I like you.”

Dean blinked dumbly for a moment, completely caught off guard by the attitude and statement that echoed their first meeting. He didn’t hate the attitude but it didn’t fit Cas either. All it really did was knock Dean off of his confident pedestal into the mess of anxiety and unpredictability below.

“Agreeing to maybe get coffee implies you like me enough to hang out so I’ll take it.” Dean replied. “What’s with the graveyard anyway? You’re not Goth so this can’t be like a fun place for you to be hanging out in and you’re not a delinquent so you’re not about to commit crimes.”

“I’m looking for a specific headstone, personal research.”

Dean blinked again, more surprised than expected. Cas had layers, clearly, and the air of mystery was more than a little appealing. “Do you want help looking? It’ll go faster with two sets of eyes and then we can grab coffee after if that’s still what you want.”

Cas paused, finally taking a moment to look at Dean. He was dressed down but still felt dressed up and Cas’ heart fluttered a little when he saw Dean’s forearms and their toned shape. If his forearms weren’t bad enough, then the rings and bracelets adorning his hands certainly were. In the actual light of day Dean looked far more tempting.

“Look for something with Anna or maybe Milton on it. And before you ask, no, I’m not giving you a reason why.”

Dean simply shrugged, peeling himself from the shade of the tree to make his way through the rows of graves. He was dying to know why Cas felt the need to scour the graveyard for one specific person but he’d already said he wouldn’t tell and Dean had enough sense to know Cas would hold firm. The religious types always held firm.

“Soo,” Dean began, “if I’m not allowed to know about this, can we talk about something else? Like what happened at the party or maybe why you weren’t in class?”

Cas winced at the question. It was unavoidable, he knew that, but he hadn’t expected Dean to ask it right off the hop. There was no good way to ignore the question and there was no simple way to answer it either. Cas knew he was going to stick at least one of his feet in his mouth. Dean really didn’t need to know about the insanity that his life had become but he needed some kind of good excuse for why he’d freaked and why he’d missed class.

“Things are complicated right now, that’s the best answer I can give you. They’re complicated and things are insane and Friday was very overwhelming.”

“Well, when your first kiss turns into getting handsy then yeah it’s gonna be overwhelming.” Dean said, crouching down to try and read another headstone. “You did say you were inexperienced but, and feel free to keep this on record if you want, you didn’t suck.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, glad he was facing a marble slab so he didn’t have to see Dean react to the obvious flush on his cheeks. “Well thanks. Can’t say I know for sure whether or not you sucked but I’m going to go with no. You find anything yet?”

“No.”

Cas sighed deeply, moving on to the next headstone. None of them had been right and he had the sneaking suspicion that none of them in the cemetery would be correct. His subconscious was just making up the entire thing, it was only thing that made sense. The search, as fruitless as it was, would serve its purpose and keep Dean at arm’s length.

“I’m really getting the feeling here that you’re not vibing with me, well- with the idea of me and you and that’s fine. You could’ve said no to coffee, I really wouldn’t have been offended.” Dean began, running a hand through his hair. “I can get out of your hair if you just give me back my flannel.”

Cas paused again, huffing in frustration. “Dean, it’s not- I’m not… God I hate this. Look, it’s not that I don’t want to because that’s not the case. Sort of not the case anyway.”

“Well what is it then?”

“I have way too much going on to even think about taking things farther than they went on Friday, at least for right now. You’re cool, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t do relationships right now.”

“I never said I was interested in a relationship.” Dean corrected. “I’m perfectly content keeping all romance out of it. Casual hookups are the name of the game anyway.”

“I’m not doing casual hookups. No shade to people who do but that is not my style and I’m assuming you’re smart enough to have figured that out already if you’ve been into me for the last three years.”

Dean huffed again, not so much a huff of frustration as it was a huff of surprise and mild indignation. Cas had always seemed so quiet and reserved so whatever was going on was more than simply upsetting his lie. It felt like the precipice of a spiral, one Dean knew all too well, but Cas was grown and it really wasn’t his problem.

“Got it, no hookups and no relationships. Please tell me you’re at least down to be friends then because I really don’t enjoy reading tombstones and I especially don’t like doing it for people I’m not on friendly terms with.”

Cas stopped what he was doing and turned to face Dean, scanning the other boy’s face. Dean looked a little disappointed but was trying to hide it and Cas’ heart pinged with guilt he didn’t need to be feeling. There was no obligation to do anything but Cas knew deep down that he wanted to try things with Dean. He was curious about the other boy but it wasn’t a good time with everything going on and even if his life had calmed down, Cas suspected he’d have to get over the fear of sex that had been drilled into him his entire life.

“Friends I can do. I could use more of them.” Cas agreed, pausing a moment. “There’s no way the headstone is here, it was a longshot anyway. Do you want to just get coffee and get out of here?”

“Yeah, coffee sounds great. There’s a cute little place around here with some of the best pastry I’ve ever had. You ever been to Rise and Grind?”

Cas shook his head, making the short hike back over to Dean. “Can’t say I have. Must be good with a name like that.”

“It’s the best.”

“Alright then. Lead the way since you know where you’re going and I don’t.”

Dean smiled and then he was turning to head out of the cemetery, leading Cas towards the coffee shop a street or two away. His confidence had taken a hit but he didn’t let it show, his stride as calm as ever. Cas walked alongside him, lost deep in his thoughts.

There had been no gravestone, something Cas had expected but hoped wouldn’t happen, and that complicated things. It had been so clear in his nightmares, both the stone and the woman. They had to be connected, there was no way he was dreaming about a woman named Anna and a gravestone with the same name. But how were they connected and why was he seeing them? It was deeper than that though and something deep inside Cas knew it. Something buried deep down was waking up and he could feel himself changing, little bits morphing into parts he couldn’t quite recognize.

Of course his freakish nightmares and not-so-secret side quest to find a woman with no eyes and a potentially dead child weren’t his only problems. There was the entire issue with his parent’s divorce which wasn’t so much an issue as it was a long overdue event that made Cas worry for his mother. Divorce aside, there was Amara and his mother. His mother seemed happy and Cas was more than glad that she seemed to be doing better but his aunt was a different story. She had lied to him, right to his face, for years. Not once had she thought to tell Cas that she liked women, something that would’ve made him more comfortable with himself. It was selfish but it also wasn’t and Cas just wanted to find her and yell at her for a little while.

None of this even touched on Dean which was another matter entirely. Cas liked Dean so far, liked what little personality he had seen and really liked the way he looked. He liked the way Dean had kissed him, the way he had touched him, and that was terrifying. Wanting Dean the way he did was terrifying. It would be so easy to turn and kiss Dean and Cas knew he’d go along with it but Cas wasn’t going to do it. Cas only clued in to the fact that they had stopped walking when he felt Dean’s hand close around his arm to stop his movement.

“Woah dude, almost walked past it.” Dean chuckled, letting go of Cas’ arm. “We’re here though.”

Cas blinked back into reality, turning his head to glance past Dean towards the outside of the shop. He could see that Dean looked concerned but chose to ignore it, instead focusing on the brick and mortar and the door.

“Alright, we are. I’ll buy your coffee since I did ask you out for it.”

“Think you’re awake enough for that?” Dean chuckled, holding the door open for Cas. “I was talking the whole way here but I don’t think you heard a word I said.”

Cas shook his head as he stepped inside, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t, sorry. Kind of got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, I’ve got a pair of open ears if you want to talk about it. Not saying I know everything but I have been told that I am a good listener.”

Cas smiled a bit as they stepped up to the counter, eyes scanning the menu. “You’ll have to tell me your order because I can’t even begin to guess what it actually is.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I know the cashier and she knows my order by heart.” Dean grinned, turning to face Eileen who was working again.

She couldn’t help but smile back at Dean, taking a second to glance at Cas before her grin widened. Turning to Dean she signed quickly.

He’s cute, he your boyfriend?

Dean shook his head, signing back that Cas was simply a friend. Eileen didn’t buy it for a second but let it slide, already putting in Dean’s order before turning to Cas.

“What can I get for you?” She asked, fingers hovering over the screen.

“I’ll try an iced lavender oat latte, please. It looks like it’ll taste interesting.”

Eileen nodded, put everything in the order, and took Cas’ money in the span of two minutes. She handed him back the change, winked at Dean, and then whisked herself away to make the drinks. Cas seemed slightly confused as he turned to Dean.

“She seems nice. I’m assuming that you two know each other because that wink didn’t seem totally weird or inorganic.”

“She’s friends with my kid brother so she’s over at my house all the time. Pretty sure my brother’s got a crush on her but he’s kind of dense and I’m not sure she’s ready to make a move yet.” Dean explained, handing Cas his drink before scooping up his own.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Well I do. His name’s Sam, he’s like four years younger than me.” Dean said, sliding into an available seat at an available table. “Kid is like insanely smart, like all AP classes smart. He wants to do law, has some fancy out of state Ivy League he wants to go to.”

Cas smiled as he sat across from Dean. There was no denying that he sounded incredibly proud of his brother and Cas felt a pang of jealousy. In another life, probably one without his father, Cas knew he’d be closer to his brothers.

“That’s really cool, you sound like you’re really proud of him.”

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s cuz I am. What about you, what’s your sibling situation like? You seem like you’ve got a big family.”

“Six older brothers so yeah, big family is right. I don’t really talk to my brothers, well most of them. I kind of sort of talk to the one closest in age but he’s kind of a lot so we don’t talk much.”

Dean didn’t seem too surprised at the answer Cas gave but it still saddened him. His entire family was close, had always been close, so it felt wrong to him that Cas wasn’t close with any of his siblings. It probably meant that he wasn’t close with his parents either and Dean wanted to ask but knew better than to do that.

The silence felt awkward as Cas sipped his drink, neither of them sure where to go. Cas wanted to ask a million questions but also wanted to confide in someone who wasn’t a close friend or a parent. He knew Dean didn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of the chaos that was his life but he needed to unload it somewhere.

“Dude, you look like you’ve got smoke coming out your ears. Clearly something’s up so feel free to talk about it if you want.”

Cas sighed, glancing up at Dean. “It’s a lot and we don’t really know each other that well and I really don’t think that you need to have a metric ton of my issues dumped on you.”

“I can dump my issues on you too if you really want. Not saying we need to trauma bond but an eye for an eye might make you feel a little better.” Dean suggested. “Let me be the good nurturing mother friend that I’m meant to be.”

Cas stared at Dean, debating on whether or not to take him up on the offer. He didn’t want to talk to his mother when she was half of the reason he was having issues in the first place. Talking to Thea was helpful but she always tried too hard to be nice and Cas was sure that she was tired of hearing about every single problem he ever had. All of that really only left two options: talk to Dean or remain silent.

“The short short of it is my parents are divorcing.”

“That’s tough, I’m sorry to hear that.” Dean murmured.

Cas shrugged, staring down at his coffee. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. They should’ve done it a long time ago, they’re not exactly compatible with each other.”

“Still, dealing with that is kind of heavy. Hopefully it’s a clean divorce, all the ones that go to court are apparently like really messy. My friend Benny, his parents split up, and it was one of the worst fights I think I’ve ever heard about.”

“It’s clean right now, sort of. He’s gone, she’s at home, no lawyers yet.”

Dean let that sink in, carefully mulling over his words. “So your dad is kind of why they split up then? That’s what I’m assuming anyway.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.”

Dean paused, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t surprised by the fact that Cas’ dad wasn’t the greatest but he was surprised by the fact that Cas knew how to swear and actually did.

“I didn’t realize you actually knew how to swear.” He commented. “But congrats on the daddy issues and welcome to the club.”

“Is your dad shitty too then?”

Dean knew questions about his father were coming but that didn’t stop him from wincing when Cas asked. All of his friends knew the basics of the story and Cas was a new friend so it only felt fair to include him but Dean didn’t think he wanted to hear about dead parents and personal trauma.

“He’s not shitty, he’s just dead.”

Cas didn’t know how to respond without coming across as overly pitying so he chose to stare at his coffee instead of Dean. Guilt washed over him for asking the question and probably upsetting Dean but when he looked up, he was surprised to see that Dean didn’t look upset.

“You don’t look upset. Why aren’t you upset that I asked?”

“He died when I was four so I’ve had like seventeen years to adjust to it and honestly, I was so young I don’t really remember that much about him.” Dean shrugged. “Was it horribly traumatizing and a terrible accident, sure it was. But that’s what therapy was for.”

Cas frowned, lips pursed. “So it’s you, your brother, and your mom then. How’s that been for your mom?”

“Hard, but she manages. She’s a nurse at the hospital in town but she takes a lot of double shifts or extra shifts so she isn’t home much. I really don’t think I’d be where I am today without her.”

“I wish I was like that with my mom.”

“You two aren’t close?” Dean asked, more curious than anything. Cas was surprising him so far, challenging his assumptions without knowing it.

Cas shook his head, deciding to pour his heart out to Dean. “Not really. She kind of took a backseat cuz of my dad and now they’re separated and she’s kind of coming into her own with an actual personality now. It’s just really weird and I’m happy for her but I don’t know how to act around her.”

“Do you want some advice as someone with a very independent and personable single mom?”

“I do, please.”

“First things first, your mom is her own person and has her own opinions and feelings just like you do.” Dean began, clasping his hands together. “It’s a little complicated because of your relationship with her but you need to treat her with the same respect you’d give everyone else. She’s going to think the way she does and do the things she does and there’s nothing you can really do to stop her. You can talk to her about what she does and work with her but at the end of the day, she’ll do her own thing. So don’t fight against her, just work with her.”

Cas sighed, shaking his head. “I’m trying but it’s just so hard. She’s got opinions now and she’s seeing someone and that’s fine. The sexuality crisis looming over the house, that’s not exactly great.”

“Yours or hers?”

“Does it really matter?”

“No, just curious.” Dean shrugged. He could tell that this avenue of conversation was beginning to reach its end so he took a moment to think of something else he could ask Cas. “Soo, you weren’t in class yesterday which means you didn’t see the movie we were supposed to watch and I fell asleep in class so I also didn’t see the movie. Would you maybe want to hang at my place and watch the movie together?”

Cas nearly choked on his coffee when he heard Dean asking, pausing so he could wipe his mouth and regain his composure. He and Dean had already established that they were just friends but Cas wasn’t naïve enough to really believe that. An invite back to watch a movie was never just about actually watching a movie, not according to Thea and the multitude of media revolving around teens and young adults with burgeoning sexualities. It was always a movie that led to making out and then making out that turned into sex and God the thought was more than tempting. Dean made it hard to resist.

“I don’t want to risk offending you but no. I may have promised my mother that I’d spend tonight with her, think she wants someone to cook with her.” Cas said, lying through his teeth.

Dean looked and sounded more than a little disappointed when he answered but he nodded all the same. “Yeah, cool, no problem. Do what you gotta do to build that relationship.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to,” Cas said quickly to try and lessen the blow, “because I do. Just- not right now and not a movie for English. Those movies are only ever disappointing and horrifically awful. If I’m going to watch a movie with you, it’s going to be one at least one of us likes and wants to show the other.”

“So a rain check for when your life is a little less chaotic, got it. I can work with that.”

Cas’ relief was instantaneous, shoulders sagging back into their relaxed position. Dean, while disappointed, didn’t seem angry which did a lot more than Cas cared to admit to make him feel more comfortable. He was just about ready to get up when he remembered the entire reason the two of them had even agreed to meet up in the first place: the flannel that was sitting folded up in his backseat.

“I was going to leave but your flannel’s still in my car so you’re going to have to follow me back to the church if you want it back.”

Dean got up from his chair, tucking it back in before grabbing his mostly empty coffee cup. “Please lead the way because I’d really like it back.”

“You’re really attached to that flannel, aren’t you.” Cas chuckled. “I’d be attached too if a piece of clothing made me look like that shirt made you look.”

Dean didn’t even have a chance to fight the thought and immediate reaction he had, simply blurting it out before he could stop himself.

“Well, feel free to raid my closet any time.”

“If all your shirts are that comfortable then I absolutely will.” Cas replied, face reddening as he began to realize what he was insinuating and just how much it didn’t bother him. “So um, what’s the real reason you want the flannel? Because there’s no way it’s purely a looks thing.”

Dean seemed hesitant to answer, a moment of silence hanging in between them. “It was my dad’s, that’s why I want it back so bad.”

“Oh, I see.”

Dean didn’t say anything else as the two of them made their way from the coffee shop to the church, Cas bringing them to the car Dean had seen earlier. He fished his keys out of his pockets and pulled open a door, reaching for the flannel he had nice and folded in the backseat. The relief on Dean’s face when he had the flannel in his hands was palpable, the tension in his jaw completely gone.

“Thanks for giving this back, I really appreciate it.” Dean murmured, unfolding the flannel and slipping into it. It fit him like a glove and while Dean knew it was just a piece of fabric, it really felt like a hug from the father he never really got the chance to know.

“It’s no problem.” Cas shrugged, closing the car door. “I’m so sorry that you had to help me with that weird little cemetery side quest, I know it’s not a great second impression. Not that I think our first impression was great either.”

Dean’s lips quirked up into a grin, the same kind of grin that had been on his face the night of the party. He wanted to flirt with Cas more than he cared to admit, but knew he had to dial it back if there was any hope of anything happening later.

“I liked our first impression, I’m not gonna lie but don’t worry about the cemetery stuff. It’s definitely a little weird but I kind of like weird.”

“I cannot believe that you’re not weirded out by that but it’s lucky for me I guess.” Cas said, leaning against his car. “I do have to get home though, my mom’s probably going stir crazy. I’ll text you about the movie if I’ve got time this week. If not, then I’ll see you in detective fiction next week.”

“I’ll see you later Cas, hope everything works out with you and your mom.”

Cas nodded his head, offering Dean a small smile. “Thanks. See you later Dean.”

He waited until Dean had left before he got into his car, sitting in the front seat to collect his thoughts as best as he could.

The graveyard search had, unsurprisingly, been a bust. There was no headstone with that name and while Cas knew he should probably be relieved that the crazy woman and her grave were figments of his imagination, he wasn’t. She didn’t feel like something he had made up in his head. This woman, Anna or whatever her name actually was, was too visceral. Her horror and trauma was too real to be just a fucked up dream. Cas knew he had work to do if he was ever going to find the answers he sought.

Now Dean, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. He wasn’t weirded out by the side quest and had still wanted coffee, a surprise Cas wasn’t upset about. Cas felt bad that he wasn’t gung-ho to hop right back into the sack with Dean but Dean hadn’t shamed him for either. His feelings for Dean bordered somewhere on sexually attracted but romantically intimidated and that left Cas in a very confusing position. Dean was willing and Cas wanted to but everything else going on was just too much. Cas knew he’d have to talk to one of the women in his life to try and get a good grip on whatever his sudden love life was becoming.

He took one final deep breath to ground the dregs of his thoughts before he took off for home, looking forward to a quiet evening at home.

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a quiet night, that’s what Cas wanted and that’s what his mother had promised him. She said she’d be home late, that she had something to do with Amara or work or whatever else she had said that morning when Cas was in his own world. Cas expected a quiet dark house where he could simply get inside and go to bed so he was more than a little surprised when the house wasn’t dark.

There was a light on in the kitchen and a woman in the window, staring down at the counter just below it. Cas knew from the freshly shorn hair that it was his mother leaning over the counter and he raised an eyebrow. His eyebrow raised further when she righted herself and there was a fancy looking top that he’d never seen on her. He had no doubt that if he looked closer, his mother likely had some kind of makeup on.

Grace wasn’t the kind of woman who put on a fancy top and makeup on for no reason and Cas’ interest was piqued. He knew it was probably a nice dinner she was making for herself or for a guest and that led him to the singular possible conclusion; it was Amara and he wasn’t happy about it. Grace knew he had a late class so it made sense she’d do this now but the class had been cancelled and Cas hadn’t told her. There was no way he’d be able to sneak in and upstairs without being noticed so he resigned himself to a conversation he didn’t want to have, pulling open the front door and stepping inside. The conversation in the kitchen died the second the door closed and Grace was popping her head through the door, eyes falling on Cas.

“You’re supposed to be in class right now.” She mumbled, guilty like a teenager being caught with condoms for the first time.

Cas shrugged. “Class got cancelled so I came home instead. Who’s your guest?”

Another guilty pause as Grace tried to think of a suitable answer but luckily enough, she didn’t have to. There was a screech of chair legs and then Amara was making herself known. She was dressed up, perfectly curled hair resting on the shoulders of a nice dress that Cas had never seen before. There was a glass of wine in her hand and she held it tightly, glancing up at Cas.

“It’s been a while, Cas. How are you?”

Cas eyes narrowed, an ugly emotional conflict rising from his belly into his throat. Part of him wanted to hug Amara and congratulate her on figuring out her life but the other side was vehemently against it. That side wanted to scream and yell at her foe what she had hidden from him, for what she had done, and for just how much she had broken his trust. Neither side fully one but the bitter angry seemed to be in the pilot seat.

“Fine.”

Amara’s smile dipped and for just a second, Cas felt bad. She knew that he would ice her out but the expectation of it did nothing to dampen the blow. The iciness was deserved but there was so much that her nephew didn’t understand, so much nuance and confusion that it would be impossible to explain it all in a night though she knew she was going to try.

“Do you think we could sit down and talk? A lot’s been going on and I’d really like to lay it all out on the table?” she said, shifting nervously on the balls of her feet.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Amara’s shoulders sagged, genuine hurt glimmering in her eyes. Cas was reasonable in how he was acting but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. She’d practically raised the kid alongside his parents and to know that she was the source of a lot of his pain and anxiety cut deep into her heart. With a quiet resignation she turned on the heels of her feet and re-entered the kitchen while Cas headed upstairs.

“Oh come here, love.” Grace murmured, pulling Amara into her arms.

The embrace was warm and tight, Grace rubbing little circles on the small of Amara’s back. Amara dropped her head onto Grace’s shoulder, a moment of silence hanging in between them before it was filled with soft sobs and shaking shoulders.

“He hates me.” Amara mumbled, her voice shaky.

Grace shook her head, still keeping Amara close. “No, he doesn’t hate you. A lot has been happening and it’s just hard for him to adjust to it; that doesn’t mean that he hates you and it certainly doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want you around.”

Amara sniffled as she pulled away, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. It felt impossible to calm down and the road to forgiveness didn’t seem hikeable at all. She reached for her glass of wine, downing the rest of it quickly.

“If I went to talk to him, would I just make things worse?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Grace sighed, running a hand over his face. “It took a lot of talking for us to get to the same page and even now he’s still very unsure so I don’t have a good answer for you. You’re more than welcome to try to talk but he might not be the most receptive.”

“I’m going to try. If I don’t I won’t be able to relax and quite honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to relax even if I do talk with him.”

“I’ll see you afterwards. Good luck.” Grace murmured, shifting to press a soft kiss to Amara’s cheek before she was back to finish cleaning up the remnants of their dinner date.

Amara took a deep breath to steady her nerves before she headed upstairs, footsteps soft on the carpet as she approached Cas’ room. She could see Cas stretched out on his bed staring up at the ceiling and her heart leaped into her throat, threatening to choke her as she knocked on the door. Cas’ head snapped up at the noise, his expression a mix of frustration and betrayal that made Amara feel even more queasy.

“I know that you don’t want to see me or talk to me right now and that’s alright, I wouldn’t want to talk to me if I was in your shoes either.” She sighed, lingering in the doorway. “That being said, I’d really like to talk about what happened. You don’t have to say anything, you can just listen if you want. Is that alright?”

Cas didn’t reply but he did shift to the other side of his bed, a silent invitation for Amara to continue. She stepped in, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sure that you’re incredibly hurt and betrayed by the fact that your mother and I lied to you for many years and those are completely normal feelings to have. I’d be incredibly betrayed if I was you too.” She sighed. “Did your mother explain how all of this started?”

Cas nodded his head, eyes squarely focused on his ceiling and the glow in the dark stars that dotted across it. He had no plans to speak to his aunt, not yet anyway.

“I don’t know how in depth she went so I’m not entirely sure where to begin other than saying that keeping this a secret was never done with the intention to hurt you. The situation with your parents was tenuous, we both know how your father is, and quite frankly I didn’t want your mother to get hurt. Aside from that, she wasn’t ready to talk about it and I wasn’t going to force her hand.”

“I don’t care that you hid it from me, well I do but that isn’t the point.” Cas muttered.

Amara frowned, running a hand through her hair. “If the affair isn’t what’s bothering you, I’m really not sure what is.”

Cas shifted, rolling onto his side so that he could face his aunt. The flames of anger had long since burned out and the coals replacing them were nothing but hurt and sadness. His voice came out low and quiet, the kind of barely held together preceding body wracking sobs.

“I’ve been struggling with my sexuality since I was twelve years old and you’ve been queer this entire time. You saw me struggling and you never told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Amara murmured, voice wrought with regret. “I tried my best to help you without mentioning it because I really didn’t want to ask questions that would get you hurt.”

Cas’ frown deepened as he sat up, criss cross applesaucing his legs and staring at his hands. There was no way he could elegantly articulate exactly what he was thinking, exactly what deep ugly feelings he was feeling without crying.

“You always made me feel safe, you never judged me. But I- this, my sexuality, it wasn’t something I really felt like I could talk to you about until recently.” Cas began. “I always thought that there was maybe something queer about you but I never really knew for sure. If I’d known earlier that you were, maybe thirteen year old me wouldn’t have begged God to make me normal.”

“Oh Cas…” Amara frowned.

“I couldn’t talk to mom, I didn’t know that she was queer and I only talked to you when I had to because I didn’t know you were queer. If I’d known then maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone, so ashamed of myself I had to hide everything away until I was twenty one!”

Cas wasn’t expecting the outburst of anger when he felt it bubble up and out of his chest but once it was out he couldn’t seem to stop it. His eyes began to burn as the tears forced their way out and his chest tightened, throat aching. He wanted to throw himself at Amara, to feel her arms wrap around him in a hug but he refused to give in and forgive her.

Amara’s own voice was shaky as she watched her nephew’s carefully crafted façade begin to crack. “I was wrong to keep it from you and I’m sorry but I cannot go back and fix it. All I can do is be here for you and your mom now and if that isn’t good enough, I’m sorry.”

Cas pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them to keep them in place. He choked his words out through the tears, ashamed he was so emotional.

“Everything is changing so fast and I can’t- I don’t know how to cope.”

“You go day by day, hour by hour if you have to.” Amara murmured, hand hovering over Cas’ back as she forced herself to stay away. “That’s what your mother and I have done for the last thirty-six years.”

Cas didn’t say anything as Amara talked, trying to calm himself down. He couldn’t do it alone, he’d never been able to, so he gave up and shifted to lean against Amara. Her arm wrapped around him and immediately he felt slightly better, leaning into her touch as he wiped at his eyes.

“I don’t forgive you.” Cas mumbled. “I understand why everything happened the way it did but that doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness. You’re human and you’re hurt, nobody’s going to forgive someone that quickly for something they’ve done.”

Cas sighed, shifting again as the shaking began to subside. The tears hadn’t but he knew he had to let them out or risk another horrific nightmare. Beneath the hurt the curiosity was stirring and Cas didn’t know whether or not he wanted to indulge it.

“You and mom looked fancy tonight, what was the occasion for dinner?” he asked, pulling away. Fuck it, he only had so many people who cared enough to listen to his problems and he wasn't about to lose one of them. 

“I had an interview at your university today. They had an opening for an anthropology professor and specifically asked me if I’d like to interview for the job.” Amara explained. “I wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to be closer to your mom and to you. You are my favourite nephew.”

“So, you want to move in then? That’s kind of what I’m hearing.”

Amara nodded her head. “Eventually, yes. The job doesn’t start until January if I’m the successful applicant so it wouldn’t be until then but even then, I really wanted to talk to you about it first.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning and prompting Amara to clarify.

“Like I said earlier, you are my favourite nephew and that means that I care about what you think. Your mom and I, it’s a lot to get used to and I know that it’s more than a bit of a shock for you. The last thing I wanted to do was overwhelm you even more by suddenly moving in when you weren’t even done processing the fact that we were together. I want you to feel comfortable with me being with her and I want you to feel comfortable with me living with both of you.”

“It’s weird seeing you and mom together, it really is but she seems a lot happier now that dad’s gone.” Cas said, pausing to wipe the last few tears off of his cheeks. “I kind of thought that she was just boring and then I spent all of yesterday with her and found out she isn’t. She’s getting a tattoo, did you know that? Pretty sure she got a piercing yesterday too which feels a little weird because I didn’t see any on her ears and my best friend is the one who pierced her.”

“Oh the tall lesbian? How is she doing? But yes, your mother did get pierced. She was quite excited to show me.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders. “Thea’s fine, busy at work and with her girlfriend. We haven’t hung out lately, I’ve been really busy. I think I’m fine with you moving in in January, just maybe not before that. That chaos is not something I need right now.”

“Your mom was saying that your life has been a little messy lately. Do you want to talk about it with someone you don’t quite forgive yet?”

Had none of the deception and chaos of the last few weeks happened, Cas knew he would immediately be spilling everything going on to Amara but things felt different now. He wanted to talk to her about all of it but he was hesitant now, hesitant that she might share something he didn’t want shared with his mother. Telling her nothing though didn’t seem like the right thing to do either and Cas sighed, knowing what he had to do.

“Do you remember that party I told you about?”

“The one with the boy from English that you’ve had a crush on? Yes, I do remember that.”

“Well I went because Thea made sure that I didn’t chicken out and I uh- I talked to English guy. Well, we kind of did a little more than talk.”

Amara raised an eyebrow and lifted her hands, making a questioningly crude gesture that had Cas flushing bright red and shaking his head.

“No, not that far.” Cas mumbled, still beet red. “I kind of ran away before any clothes came off. Well I had his flannel because he spilled a drink on me and I know that’s kind of a minor detail but it’s important.”

“Look at you go.” Amara smiled.

“Not look at me go. I ran and then everything happened with you and mom and I’m still freaking out with that and then someone gave him my phone number and he texted me.”

“Did you text back?”

“I wrote it, mom sent it. He wanted coffee so he could get his shirt back and mom and Thea kind of said that the coffee didn’t have to be more than coffee if I didn’t want to and that made me feel good enough to actually go.”

Amara smiled again, a gentle smile of pride that Cas seemed like he was coming out of his shell and into his own. Her response was simple, a gentle prove as so to not upset the delicate balance that they had somehow established.

“Was coffee just coffee then?”

Cas nodded his head. “Yeah, it was. He wanted more but I really didn’t and then he was fine with it. We’re kind of like actually friends now I guess. I maybe ranted a little bit about mom and dad splitting up, mostly about mom though.”

“What about your mother?” Amara asked curiously. “And you’re don’t want more with him?”

“Nothing important, it’s fixing itself so it’s fine. And that, that’s complicated.”

Amara knew exactly what Cas meant without needing him to say it. She’d done the same thing with Grace for years, the little dance of skirting around desires and problems until neither of them could fight it any more. Cas would probably do the same, if he was anything like his mother, and that would be a slippery slope.

“Just take it slow sweetheart, you’ll figure out whether or not you want more with him as the two of you hang out more.” Amara said. “Is that everything that’s been going on with you?”

Cas paused again, not fully prepared for the probe. There was more going on but he didn’t entirely trust his aunt with what it was. Hell, Cas didn’t even know what it was. The nightmares were still coming and Cas needed to share them with someone. Thea would just think he was crazy, his mom was way too stressed to deal with his bucket of crazy on top of everything else, and there was no way in Hell Cas wanted to scare Dean off when they had finally talked and become sort of half friends. That really only left one option, the one Cas was dreading.

“I’ve been having these dreams…”

Amara’s body language shifted immediately, a sudden rigidity and tension in her muscles and posture.

“What kind of dreams? Are we talking the fun kind or the ‘I woke up naked in school’ kind of dreams?” She asked.

“This stays between us. I need you to swear that you will not tell my mom and I need you to mean it to.”

Amara held a hand over her heart, eyes meeting Cas’ for the first time that night. “I swear that this stays between us and that I will not tell your mother and betray your confidence.”

Cas nodded his head, taking another few minutes to think about how he wanted to word everything. There was a fine line between sharing what his brain was doing and sounding like he was having a mental breakdown and needed help dealing with it.

“They’re nightmares, mostly, but they don’t feel like nightmares.” He said, wringing his hands together. “They were just church nightmares at first but they’re different now and they have been for the last three weeks. There’s this woman in them and she’s horrible. She doesn’t have eyes but she sees me, see through me.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all.” Amara agreed.

“She tried to kill me in one of them, choked me so hard I woke up with a sore throat. But that was just the beginning and it’s gotten worse since then. I’m seeing her but it feels like I’m in her life and I don’t- she gouged her own eyes out and I don’t understand why this is happening!”

Cas choked out the remainder of the sentence and by the time he was done, Amara’s blood had frozen in her veins. She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to relax so Cas didn’t grow any more agitated.

“That sounds awful.” She murmured, reaching out to put a hand on his knee and squeeze gently. “Do you have any idea why you think you’ve been seeing this random woman?”

“No, I don’t know why.”

“It could be stress, that’s what I would guess. You’ve had so much going on that your brain is probably very overwhelmed and concocting horrific scenarios to torment you. I had nightmares for years whenever your mother had something happen with your father, nightmares about people I’d never seen before.”

Cas’ voice was small, hesitant, when he replied. “How did you make them stop?”

“They really just went away on their own when my stress levels lowered and they’ve pretty much been gone since your mom and I became solid. There is no one way to stop nightmares but there are little steps you can do. Figure out the root issues in your life and tackle them slowly, that’ll help. Making sure you’re taking care of yourself and your body will help too.”

“Does that really work?”

“I’m still kicking so yes, I would say it does.” Amara nodded. “How are you feeling now?”

Cas shrugged, pulling away again so that he could stretch back out on his side of the bed. He didn’t feel any better about anything they had talked about but at least his head wasn’t so crammed full with racing thoughts. The betrayal and hurt Amara had caused was still there but they had formed a tenuous truce and it did feel good to talk to her about the nightmares.

“I think I might try to get some sleep, I’m really tired. Would you mind telling mom that I’m sorry for interrupting dinner?”

“Sure I can.” She nodded, getting off of the bed. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll figure it out. Thanks for listening.”

Amara offered Cas one more smile before she flicked the light off, closing his bedroom door. The smile dropped the second the door closed and then she was heading downstairs to try and find Grace. She wasn’t in the kitchen and Amara frowned, knowing she wasn’t upstairs either. There was a light coming from the open door of the studio and Amara turned towards it, lingering once again in another doorway.

Grace had changed into her painting clothes and was furiously applying paint to the canvas in front of her, blocking in the background colours for a painting no one else had laid eyes on. Amara knew the fervour all too well and her heart dropped.

“They’re back again, aren’t they?”

Grace jumped at the sudden noise, paintbrush falling to the ground with a clatter. “They are.”

Amara padded into the room, pulling up a stool to sit beside Grace. She avoided looking at the canvas or the finished piece tucked away, instead focusing on picking up the paintbrush and handing it back to its rightful owner.

“Are they like they were the last time?”

“No,” Grace said with a shake of her head. “Not like that. They’re um- they’re like the ones before that.”

“Are they about the same woman?”

A damning silence as Grace chewed her lip, fighting the compulsion to continue painting with Amara in the room.

“Grace, you know that these paintings aren’t healthy for you. You know what happened the last time you started this up.”

“I am well aware of what happened and I have it under control.” She replied sharply, placing the brush against the canvas. “These aren’t like that and it’s different, the images are different. They’re not as…violent as the others.”

Amara raised an eyebrow again, scrubbing a hand over her face. Arguing with Grace was like arguing with a brick wall and the last thing she wanted right now was to upset someone else she cared about. The painting would begin to take its toll like it had the last time and Amara had to suppress a shudder as the singular piece of uncharred canvas she had seen invaded her mind. It’d given her nightmares for years.

“I think you need to see that doctor again, Zachariah.”

All at once Grace stopped painting, setting the paintbrush down rather pointedly as she turned to Amara. There was something unnerving about her expression, a strange darkness lurking below the surface waiting for the right time to strike. It took Amara all of three seconds to realize her comment had crossed a line she wasn’t fully aware of.

“I am not going to let that little shrew of a man poke around my head again. Not after last time.” She muttered. “I am perfectly fine and capable of dealing with this. I’ve done it for the last twenty one years without you and I can continue to do so. Your concern, while appreciated, is severely misplaced.”

“All I’m trying to do is help you. I’ve seen the aftermath of this, in case you’ve forgotten. I know what you burned.”

Grace paled, every ounce of blood leaving her face. Her hands tightened into fists and her lips began to tremble, eyes burning with angry horrified tears.

“Get out.”

Amara shifted back on the stool, eyes widening in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me. Get the Hell out.”

Blinking rapidly, Amara pulled herself from the stool. The air was thick with tension and anger, the undertones of fear so cloying it was hard to breathe. She didn’t understand the sudden switch up and it horrified her. Grace had never acted like this before.

“I don’t- what did I do?” She mumbled, stepping towards the door. “I love you and I’m worried about this. All I want to do is help.”

Grace’s lips were trembling so badly she could barely speak, seconds away from melting down.

“Leave, please.” She whispered, anger fizzling out into something so pathetic Amara felt chills run down her spine.

She reached the door, back turned to Grace. Every bone in her body screamed at her to stay, to do whatever she could to get to the root of what had just happened but she knew better. Amara knew that if she stayed, if she did the responsible human thing, that it would damage their relationship more than anything else she had ever done. She hesitated, turning her head just enough to address Grace.

“There’s something else you need to know but you cannot address it right now, not unless he comes to you.”

Grace stood there, arms hugged to her chest in a desperate attempt to keep the sobs rising in her chest trapped there. Already it was too much but then she heard Amara speak, the words stabbing so deep into her chest the only thing she could do was sink to her knees in unabashed despair. The words echoed long after Amara left.

“Castiel sees her too.”

Chapter Text

“Dean Tyler Winchester, you are an absolute asshole. A massive full throttle O.R. Melling Chronicles of Faerie ending level asshole!”

The pair were currently holed up with Benny and Lee in Dean’s room at school. Charlie was perched on the edge of Dean’s bed like a bird on a barbed wire fence, hands wrapped around one of the three stuffed animals Dean had brought with him. Benny and Lee took up space in the two chairs beside the coffee table, Lee turned to the side with his legs spread out across Benny’s lap. Dean was the only one on his bed, pillow in his lap and arm resting on top of it.

“Woah there dude, I am not that bad. I’m not some selfish teenager girl getting a cool ass character killed because she has mommy issues.” Dean muttered, gipping the pillow tightly as he swung it at Charlie to hit her. “An asshole with daddy issues, sure. But not that bad.”

“Dean, it’s like the fourth week in a row that you’re the reason DnD is being cancelled.” Lee said. “That makes you a quantifiable asshole.”

“In his defense, and if you two crucify me I will come back like Jesus, we both had a midterm like three weeks ago so it wasn’t feasible.”

Dean grinned, scooting closer to Charlie. “See, Benny’s on my side.”

“Not this week, brother.”

“Doesn’t explain why he missed all the other weeks though and I, for one, would really like to know why.” She muttered. “He’s not telling us something, I can feel it.”

Dean could feel all of the eyes on him and while his friends had never made him nervous before, they were making him nervous now. It wasn’t like the reason he had missed all the sessions was a big deal but he knew much everyone loved DnD and how attached they were to their characters. Twinkles could wait another week but Bourbon Bill and Jimothy could not. Even if Lee and Benny weren’t so antsy, Charlie had spent so much time putting together the campaign.

“Okay so maybe I haven’t been honest and told you guys everything going on with my life. But I swear it’s for a good reason.”

The group collectively rolled their eyes, more fond than irritated but it did little to make Dean feel better. He could feel their eyes on him and then Charlie was peering just a little bit too closely at him, reaching out to grab his shirt and feel it. Her lips pursed further and then she leaned in to sniff Dean’s neck, wrinkling her nose as she pulled away.

“How many times have you seen him?”

“Seen him? When did you get back into the dating scene?” Lee asked, curiosity piqued.

Benny seemed the most unphased by it, leaning back in his chair before throwing a nod of approval in Dean’s direction. “Is it probably fictional hot English guy?”

“It is, technically I’m not, and this is number five.” Dean answered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“If you’ve seen this guy four times already then how are you not on the dating scene? Four dates constitutes like actually getting together.”

“Yeah no, that’s not how this is working, Lee. He just wants to be friends and I said sure and that’s it. We went out for coffee and we’ve just been hanging out after class, nothing special. He’s coming over tonight though, we’re gonna watch a movie.”

Charlie’s eyebrow shot up. “Dean, dude, you have to know what a movie means. Knowing you, you know exactly what a movie means. Is this really a good idea?”

Dean huffed in irritation, sliding off of his bed. There was a sudden nervousness in his stomach, a gentle bubbling anxiety that hadn’t been there before Charlie had opened her mouth. It felt like his friends only saw him as trying to get into someone else’s pants and it hurt a little bit. They weren’t wrong, he did like that, but Cas felt different and he didn’t want that.

“A movie is just watching a movie, it’s not going to be more than that because he doesn’t want it and I respect the fact that he doesn’t want it.” Dean said. “We met up for coffee after looking through a cemetery and talked over everything that happened at the party and we’re on solid ground right now.”

“You never did tell us what happened at the party.” Lee began, finding himself cut off by Benny.

“Forget the party. What do you mean you went looking through a cemetery with this guy? That’s just a little weird, even for you.”

“Dean had his tongue down English guy’s throat before the guy ran away from him. The guy’s name is Cas by the way.” Charlie clarified. “Cas took the flannel and Deano was all wigged out here so I sent the text from Dean’s phone asking to meet and I guess they met up.”

Lee and Benny’s eyes widened. Dean never gave anyone that flannel and the fact that he’d given it to this random guy, to Cas, meant that there was something else going on. They could see how awkward Dean looked, the way he rubbed his neck and looked down at the floor. It was the same look they’d seen when he’d first gotten together with Lisa.

“If you like hanging out with this guy then go for it. Dnd can wait another week.” Lee said as he turned, pulling his legs off of Benny’s lap so he could stand up. “Are we going to get an introduction to this guy when he comes over tonight?”

“You guys are just gonna scare the poor thing. He’s a little shy, I’m shocked he likes our Dean.” Charlie chuckled, her feet hitting the tiled floor as she stood and returned the stuffed animal to its rightful place on the bed.

“Look, I’m really sorry about cancelling DnD again but I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I promise I’ll make it up to all of you guys but I just really want to hang out with him tonight. He’s been a little hesitant about coming over so it’s taken like three weeks to convince him that it’s fine and that I don’t live in some den of sin.”

“Well it might be a den of sin, you never know what’ll happen.” Lee grinned. “But it’s cool dude, don’t worry. You like the guy and you have seemed happier so just go for it.”

Benny simply flashed Dean a thumbs up and an encouraging smile before wrapping his arm around Lee and ushering him out of the room. That left Charlie and she didn’t seem nearly as upset as she had an hour earlier, a slight grin on her face.

“You’ve seen him four times, nothing remotely sexual has happened since the first time, and you still want to see him. You’re really crushing on this guy.”

Dean mumbled again before dropping onto his bed, hiding his head in his hands. “It’s so bad, Charles."

She nodded before dropping down onto the bed beside Dean, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Look dude, I can’t give you advice because you already know exactly what I’m going to say. You like him and he likes you, things are going to happen eventually.”

“I know they will and that’s fine but I have had so many dreams about this guy that it’s almost a little concerning.”

Charlie made a crude gesture in response, questioning the kind of dream, and Dean flushed red in response.

“Okay, well, keep that in your head then I guess.” She chuckled. “But I get it. I had the same dreams about Thea before we got together. I’m gonna get going so that you can have some time to relax but I’m gonna say one thing before I leave.”

“If you tell me to be safe and hand me a condom, I’m going to hit you with another pillow.”

Charlie shook her head. “No, I’m not gonna do that to you this time. All I was going to say is that Cas has been talking to Thea about you nonstop so I think things are going to start going your way soon.”

Dean smiled despite himself. The thought that Cas seemed as excited about whatever their friendship was becoming as Dean did made him feel great about himself. He felt Charlie’s weight lift off the bed and then he was watching her throw up one final thumbs up before she was gone and he was alone in his room.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts before he was getting ready for Cas to show up.

~

“You’ve seen Dean how many times now?” Thea asked, her voice echoing from across the room where she was sitting on the top of Cas’ desk.

Cas was currently standing in front of his closet, staring at the clothes hanging there. He was waiting for the clothing to speak to him, to offer him any hint of inspiration for an outfit that didn’t age him or make him look like an aspiring groomy English teacher.

“We’ve hung out like four times but it’s not really ‘seeing’ because we’re not dating.”

Thea mumbled something unintelligible in response, glancing down at the crochet project she was currently working. There was a thin line between dating and not dating and while she didn’t know everything about what Cas and Dean were doing, she knew enough about relationships to know exactly what was happening. They were dating, for all intents and purposes they were, but it was unlabeled.

 “Alright, fair enough.” She shrugged, climbing off of the desk and padding towards the closet. “Why are you so stressed about what to wear? I thought you two were just watching a movie."

“We are. I just- I want to look good, okay.”

Thea grinned before ever so gently pushing Cas out of the way to rifle through his closet. She passed slacks and dress shirts and every horribly stuffy option until she settled on a few things she liked, pulling them out and handing them to Cas.

“Wear this, he’ll think you look great.” She said, slipping back towards the desk. “You thought any more about why you want to look good for Dean?”

Cas paused, thankful he was turned away from Thea. He knew the exact answer to her question because he’d obsessing over it for the last week and a half. Dean was cool and he was hot and Cas wanted him to think that he was attractive. He wanted Dean’s approval in a way that both thrilled and horrified him.

“Don’t make me answer it when we both already know why.” He said, pulling the sweater over his head.

Thea shrugged again, picking up her project again. “Are you gonna kiss him again?”

“No.”

All Thea had to do was shake her head to get her point across. She knew Cas’ hesitancy and why he was doing what he was doing but that didn’t mean she had to like it. All he was doing was dragging out his own torment and teasing Dean, not that that really mattered. Trauma was one hell of an extenuating circumstance.

“I want to kiss him, I do, but it’s complicated right now. There’s just so much going on and I don’t want to make things even more complicated.”

“Things didn’t sound all that complicated when I talked to Charlie. Dean’s feelings are pretty straightforward and yours sound like it too.”

“He’s not the issue, everything else is.” Cas huffed, throwing himself on his bed with all the abandon of a moody teenage girl. “My mom and my aunt had a fight so my mom’s been insanely moody the past few weeks. Like if she isn’t at work or having dinner with me then she’s locked away just painting and painting. I don’t think trying to introduce someone new to her is going to go very well.”

"Alright then, just stay friends. Any idea what movie you’re watching?”

Cas shook his head, taking another minute before pulling himself off of his bed. It was eight by now and it was a good fifteen minutes to campus so Cas really didn’t want to be late. Being late wasn’t a good impression

“I think I’m gonna get going though, I don’t really want to be late. Did you still want a ride there too?”

Thea nodded, scooping up her crochet and shoving it into her bag. She waited for Cas to say goodbye to his mom before the pair of them left, heading off towards the university. The ride was silent but that didn’t bother either of them, both occupied with different thoughts. Thea was excited to see Charlie again and Cas, well he was just plain nervous. He was nervous that Dean would think he was trying too hard, that he wouldn’t like the movie Dean was picking, and that neither of them would have a good time.

Cas’ heart was pounding in his chest as he and Thea split up, her tall frame vanishing around a corner. The hallway felt impossibly long as he walked down it, his footsteps echoing emptily until he came to the door. He was rehearsing what he wanted to say but luckily for him, the door opened before he could knock.

“Cas, hey! Right on time.” Dean smiled, stepping aside to let Cas into the apartment.

“You know me, I’m never late.” He replied, stepping into the apartment.

Cas had never seen the inside of Dean’s apartment but it wasn’t what he expected. The kitchen was small but tidy, Cas’ eyes drawn immediately to a traffic cone decorated with Christmas lights. It was just the right kind of odd that Cas knew came with Dean. There were a couple flags and some calendars up on the walls and the fridge and Cas peered closely at them, chuckling at a few of the reminders present in Dean’s chicken scratch.

“I kicked the guys out so you shouldn’t be ambushed by them when you’re here.”

“Worried what they’ll tell me about you?” Cas grinned, unable to help the slight tease in his voice.

“I’m more worried about what you’ll tell them.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, pausing to kick off his shoes. “I don’t think I’m that scary and I highly doubt that I know enough about you to make me any kind of reproductive threat.”

Dean shook his head, still smiling. He took a minute to subtly, or not so subtly really, to check Cas out. The sweater was cute, a fitted slate grey that Dean really thought suited Cas. His jeans were nice too, a stiff newer pair that still needed to be broken in. Cas was dressed casual and comfortable and Dean hated just how much he wants to get the other boy out of his clothes. It just wasn’t fair.

Cas had seen Dean in about a million variations of jeans, t-shirts, and flannels but Dean wasn’t in any combination of any of those this time. His t-shirt was loose except for the short sleeves that hugged his muscular arms and if that wasn’t bad enough, the sweatpants certainly were. Cas had heard about the grey sweatpants effect but hadn’t entirely believed in its existence until this very moment. It was hard to tear his eyes away but he managed to do so before he got so red there was no turning back.

“So what movie are we watching?” Cas asked, fixing his eyes firmly on the door to Dean’s room.

“Well, I remember you saying that you’ve never really watched any horror movies and it is mid-October so I thought we could watch a classic. Not to brag or anything, but I am a bit of a horror movie connoisseur.”

“Still haven’t told me what movie it is.” Cas chuckled, the words leaving his mouth the second he stepped into Dean’s room.

His eyes passed the chairs around the coffee table and the small shelf laden with books before focusing on the walls. They were decked out in movie poster after movie poster, each one more and more eye catching. There was Saw and then Scream and then a million other movies Cas had only ever heard of in hushed whispers with his older brother. He found Dean’s bed and shuffled over, eyes drawn immediately to the stuffed animals.

Dean began to respond but stopped, watching Cas pick up the stuffed bunny from where it was half hidden behind a pillow. He was expecting a teasing comment like Benny and Lee so often gave but Cas didn’t do that, simply putting the rabbit back before turning to Dean.

“I wasn’t expecting this out of your room but I really like it. The bunny is cute.”

Dean flushed red before shifting on the balls of his feet, deciding to climb onto the bed and stretch his legs out. He watched Cas follow suit and his heart started to race in his chest. Cas was in his bed and even though it wasn’t anything serious or sexual, it was still exciting.

“It’s not as decorated as my room back home but I don’t mind it.” He shrugged, reaching for his laptop. “So, are you feeling more human or supernatural tonight?”

“I don’t know, what do you think? You’re the ‘connoisseur’ here.” Cas teased, playfully punching Dean’s arm.

Cas had never been brave enough to come anywhere near Dean after the party but the last few weeks had given him a titch of bravery. All they had done was get coffee and chat in various places but Cas felt better around dean, felt better knowing that there had been no advances whatsoever. Dean meant that he was fine with just friends and Cas was okay with that.

Dean’s immediate instinct was to turn and grab Cas’ wrist, making a witty comment that would ultimately win him over and get him out of his clothes, but Dean didn’t do that this time. He held back the urge, swallowed down the witty comment, and instead reached for his laptop.

“We’re watching Chucky, that’s what I’ve decided.” He said, pulling up the movie on his laptop. “It’s a whole series of movies plus like a three season tv show and you wanna know the best part?”

“Sure, what’s the best part?” Cas asked, intrigued by how excited Dean seemed.

“They’re all connected. Every single movie and the tv show, they all follow like one timeline. There’s no takebacks or retconning or anything like that. It’s literally the same director the whole time.”

Cas shifted, turning his body so he could face Dean and actually process what he had to say. He propped his head up with a hand, his elbow resting on the mountain of pillows behind him and just smiled.

“Sounds like you know a lot, is this your favourite movie?”

“Favourite franchise.” Dean nodded, settling in. “There’s just so much that’s so cool about it. Like all the Chucky dolls, all of it is animatronics and puppetry. There’s no CGI involved there and that’s insane, especially when you consider the fact the first movie came out in ’88. Then there’s Jennifer Tilly and I could go on for hours about why she’s so great and none of this even talks about how The Seed of Chucky was so progressive and queer friendly for its time.”

“Do you want to tell me more?” Cas asked, still smiling. “I’d really love to hear it.”

Dean, who was convinced that he was probably just boring Cas, couldn’t stop the huge smile that lit up his face. His friends very rarely indulged his horror movie rants so it was more than surprising that Cas seemed so interested in it. Dean forced himself to take a deep breath to calm the giddiness before he was launching into a fully explained rant about the merits of the Child’s Play series.

Cas started listening, fully planning on absorbing what Dean was telling him but his brain had other ideas. Dean’s voice was pitching up as he spoke, the excitement practically invasive, and the little cracks in it were all too nice to hear. If Dean’s voice wasn’t captivating enough, Cas found that he was staring at the other boy’s face. Of course he’d seen Dean enough to know how attractive he was but seeing him up close was something else entirely. There were freckles smattered across his face, long delicate eyelashes, and eyes green like the moss on headstones. Cas couldn’t help but stare and found himself glancing down at Dean’s lips a couple times, the memory of kissing him stirring some fire in his belly.

Dean’s voice cut through Cas’ thoughts, excitement replaced with a dry amusement.

“You, uh, you all good there?” He chuckled.

Cas blinked back into reality, a furious blush colouring his cheeks. In the span of Dean’s excited rant, Cas had somehow crossed the little space between them on the bed and was just about draped over Dean’s side. It was more than a little embarrassing but Cas decided to just go with it, closing the inch gap and settling against Dean’s side.

“I’m great, better now that I can hear you clearer.” Cas said, not entirely convinced that either of them believed the lie.

“Well, um, do you want a drink or snacks or anything? I was going to make popcorn and then I totally just blanked on it. The movie’s not that long either, it’s only like an hour a half too.”

Cas shrugged, really choosing to lean into Dean. As far as he was concerned, friends were more than allowed to be physically affectionate. He cuddled Thea all the time, so there was no reason Dean had to be any different.

“Movie it is then.”

Dean shifted to hit play, repositioning his laptop before settling back down. He could feel Cas pressed into his side, the warmth of his body seeping through and stoking the fire in his own stomach. His heart was stuttering in his chest and Dean wondered if Cas could hear it, could hear just what he was capable of doing to him. There were a million thoughts screaming at him to make a move but in the end hesitancy won out and Dean’s arm ended up behind Cas across the headboard, close but not quite around his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to tell me if you don’t like it, don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I totally get that horror isn’t everyone’s thing.”

“You searched through a cemetery and still decided to hang out with me, I’m sure I can handle one of your favourite movies even if it is horror.” Cas replied, settling down to watch the movie.

Cas gave the movie about fifteen minutes of his undivided attention before his mind began to change, thoughts drifting elsewhere. He could smell the shampoo Dean used and while he didn’t know exactly what it was, it was still a pleasant smell. It mixed with something vaguely woody and Cas found that it seemed to match Dean. There was a pleasant rhythm to his breathing and Cas shifted closer to settle down, head resting on Dean’s shoulder.

“Enjoying the movie?” Dean hummed.

He dared to shift slightly, testing the waters as he tentatively let his arm drop down to rest around Cas’ shoulders. There was a moment where Cas seemed to tense up but then he relaxed, sinking further into Dean’s side.

“It’s not bad. I like the way they made the doll, it reminds me of one of my brothers.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, shifting and pulling Cas closer. He didn’t think Cas would mind. “Is your brother a psychotic redhead?”

“A little nuts but not psychotic. We kind of didn’t talk for a while but he’s back in my life now and he’s cool. His fiancée is a redhead, she runs the apothecary by the church.”

“That’s cool, definitely different.” Dean nodded, turning his head to face Cas.

Cas smiled but paused before he spoke, yawning instead. He hadn’t quite realized how tired he was, he blamed the weeks of horrific nightmares that still weren’t going away, and Dean was quite comfortable.

“Sorry, think I’m a little more tired than I thought I was.” Cas yawned, daring to close his eyes.

“No worries, I get it. My sleep schedule is all kinds of screwed up right now. Do you want to turn the movie off and head home?”

Cas shook his head, settling back down against Dean. Going home be damned, he was comfortable and content just hanging out with Dean like this. His thoughts kept drifting from the movie to Dean and it really wasn’t helping his attempt to stay resolute.

Dean, on the other hand, was absolutely losing his mind. It had been one thing when Cas had cuddled up, that was something Dean could excuse as closeness under the guise of friendship, but it had only gone downhill from there. Out of the corner of his eye he’d seen the looks Cas had given him, the stares at his lips that were making it incredibly hard to keep on the right side of the friendship line they’d promised not to cross. Tacking on Cas quite literally falling asleep on his shoulder and it was a one way ticket on the bad thought express straight to popping a chub and ruining everything.

“Cas,” Dean mumbled as he reached to close his laptop and set it on the desk right next to the bed, “Are you sure you don’t want to head home? You’re literally falling asleep right now.”

“I don’t want to go home. I’m comfortable where I am.”

Dean swallowed thickly, trying to ease himself away from Cas. He succeeded, watching as Cas cracked open one of his eyes and glared at him. There was a moment of silence before Cas fully gave in to how tired he was, simply stretching out on his half of Dean’s bed. He was dimly aware that this was probably crossing a line or invading a boundary but the bed was too warm and comfortable for him to really care.

“Okay, well uh- you can take my bed then. I’ll just take my beanbag chair.”

Cas cracked his other eye open, sighing as he reached for Dean. He caught him by the wrist and held him in place, expression akin to a disgruntled kitten.

“Dean, it’s your bed. There’s enough space to share.”

Dean’s heart nearly stopped in his chest, eyes staring at the hand holding his wrist in place. Cas had to know what he was saying when he said it was fine, hell he had to know what he was doing when he cuddled up to Dean but Dean wasn’t so sure that he did. Out of all the things Cas was conscious of, Dean didn’t think cuddling up and sharing a bed were some of them.

“I don’t want to cross a line, Cas. I feel like this crosses the friendship line we talked about.”

Cas frowned but let Dean’s hand go, rolling onto his back to face the ceiling. “It doesn’t have to cross a line. Sharing a bed doesn’t have to be anything more than just sharing a bed and I’m fine with it. I’d rather share the bed than just drive home.”

“You’re like a hundred percent sure this is okay?”

Cas nodded and scooted towards the headboard to snuggle under the covers, the mattress dipping as Dean crawled into bed too. He settled in next to Cas, staring up at the ceiling too so he didn’t have to stare at the other boy. It wasn’t weird that they were sharing a bed, not unless he made it weird, and Dean wanted to make it weird.

“I shared a bed with Gabe for most of my childhood so this is nothing.” He shrugged. “Kind of had to with like seven kids in the house.”

“That’s fair I guess. Didn’t realize you had so many siblings

“Yep, six older brothers.” Cas sighed, shifting uncomfortably. “Do you care if I take my clothes off? They’re kind of uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“That’s fine. Do you want a t-shirt or something to sleep in? I’ve got a ton of extras.”

Cas removed himself from the covers, sliding off the bed so he could remove his clothes. He pulled his sweater off and shimmied out of his jeans, leaving himself relatively exposed. It hadn’t crossed his mind that this might make Dean uncomfortable until the lamp was turned on and then Cas was forced to stare at Dean who was just as red-faced as he was.

“Yes please, if you don’t mind.” Cas mumbled awkwardly, staring at the ground. “I totally just invited myself to stay over, I’m so sorry. It’s so rude.”

Dean shook his head, rooting around in a dresser for an extra shirt before turning and passing it to Cas. He kept his eyes averted, partially out of wanting to give Cas some privacy but mostly so he didn’t have to see Cas undressed and get even more fuel for the dreams that were plaguing him almost nightly.

Cas slipped the shirt on, running his hands over the soft fabric. The shirt was big and comfortable but most importantly, it smelled a bit like Dean. Of course Cas knew he had Dean in flesh and blood right next to him but that was still just a little too overwhelming.

“Thanks for the shirt,I uh- I really appreciate it.” Cas mumbled as he padded back over the bed, eager to lay down and rest. He was praying the nightmares would stay away.

“No worries. Charlie takes a shirt every time she hangs out so I’ve kind of just started a collection of them. I don’t get the whole thing but that doesn’t matter.”

“I couldn’t tell you. Stealing clothes isn’t really my thing, well except for yours I guess. But in my defence, your shirts are comfortable.” Cas said, climbing into bed and sliding back under the covers.

Dean smiled, a little quirk in the corner of his lips. He flicked the lamp off before crawling back into bed, keeping as much space as possible between the two of them. Cas wasn’t making it easy to stay friends, not with the cuddling up and the shirt stealing and the glances that weren’t even subtle at this point. Dean knew Cas was into him but until Cas said it, there was nothing he could do except sit and stew.

“Well, try and have a good sleep. Hopefully the bed’s comfortable enough for you.”

Cas shifted to get comfortable, yawning out a response.

“Night Dean, see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Dean didn’t remember falling asleep but he was more than aware when his dream materialized around. He was sitting back in his bed with Chucky playing on the laptop, Cas sitting next to him and watching the movie. It wasn’t Cas though, Dean reminded himself, it was Not-Cas and Not-Cas was nothing like actual Cas.

Dean had just finished his excited explanation of fun Chucky facts and now that he was done, all he was able to focus on was the way Not-Cas’ eyes were flicking down to his lips. The tension was undeniable and Dean knew there’d be no repercussions if he did what he wanted but he was still hesitant.

“Dean, are you good?” Not-Cas chuckled, reaching out to rest his hand on Dean’s upper thigh. “You kind of look like you’re constipated.”

Dean shook his head, eyes glued to hand on his thigh. “No, not constipated. Just can’t think of any more facts and I know the movie’s playing but I also don’t like the silence and it feels awkward. I’m kind of only really good at this stuff if I keep talking.”

Not-Cas rolled his eyes before shifting, swinging a leg over Dean to change positions. He was sitting squarely on Dean’s lap, legs on either side of Dean’s and his arms wound around Dean’s neck. Blue eyes scanned Dean’s reddening face and then Not-Cas was grinning, leaning in. The kiss was surprisingly gentle and it took a moment for Dean to react, lips parted as Not-Cas pulled away slightly.

“What was that for?” Dean asked, eyes still glued to Not-Cas’ lips.

“You talk too much.”

Dean shrugged but didn’t bother to respond, leaning back in to kiss Not-Cas again. He let his hands skim down the front of the sweater and then down his hips, settling on his ass. If there was one thing in common with both Cas’, it was how nice his ass was.

Dean felt hands sliding down his back and then he was breaking their kiss to pull his shirt off, reaching out to tug at the bottom of Cas’ sweater.

“Uh uh, Dean. My clothes stay on.” Not-Cas said, hand sliding down to rest on top of Dean’s.  He leaned in close, lips softly brushing the junction of Dean’s ear and jaw as he spoke again. “Tonight’s all about you.”

Dean groaned softly, head tilted and eyes closed. Not-Cas had barely touched him but he felt like he was on fire, heat running through his veins and into his belly. The weight on his lap and the soft lips on his neck were enough to stoke the fires of desire.

“What if I don’t want to?” Dean asked, more teasing than anything as he slid a hand up under Cas’ shirt.

Not-Cas shifted his weight, leaning back slightly so he could stare Dean directly in the eyes. There was a deep hunger burning in his eyes, the kind so bottomless it made his eyes look dead like a shark’s. If Dean wasn’t so into it, he probably would’ve been afraid.

“It’s really simple Dean,” Not-Cas said, voice deep as he leaned in closer. “Don’t listen and I’ll punish you.”

The air escaped from Dean’s lungs all at once, a gasp pushing along with it as he felt Not-Cas kissing him again. This time was urgent and demanding, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as Not-Cas dragged his nails down Dean’s chest. Dean thought about tempting fate but left it for the moment being, hands squeezing Not-Cas’ thighs in the effort to keep them to himself.

Lips scraped down Dean’s jaw and neck, hand sliding down towards his crotch to palm at the steadily growing bulge. Not-Cas knew what he was doing, chuckling when he pulled another sharp groan out of Dean. He knew Dean, technically was Dean, so it came as no surprise when he felt Dean’s hands creeping up his thighs and heading towards the hem of his pants. Not-Cas caught Dean’s hand, his hand closed around Dean’s wrist as he climbed off of his lap.

“I told you, not tonight.”

Dean rolled his eyes, unable to help the grin. He was teasing Not-Cas now, curious to know what would happen. “I just can’t help myself around beautiful men, sorry.”

“I think you need to learn some manners.” Not-Cas muttered as he climbed off of Dean’s lap, posture changing. Gone was the determined posture, replaced by something that immediately had Dean on edge. It was rigid and sharp, the kind of hard cutting cold presence that didn’t seem to belong to the body of the boy in front of him. For a moment something felt wrong but then there was a hand tightening on Dean’s thigh and he was staring back up at those dark eyes, captivated by their depth.

“I am going to let go of your thigh and then you’re going to take off your pants and lay on your stomach. Got it?”

Dean swallowed hard, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He felt Not-Cas let go of his thigh and then he was listening, kicking off his sweats and tossing them onto the floor. For a brief moment Dean was prepared to lay on his stomach but he paused, grinning at Cas.

“You never said how you were going to punish me.” He grinned. “You’re still my subconscious so it’s not like you know any more about me than I do. So do your worst, punish me.”

Not-Cas narrowed his eyes but the grin on his face told Dean he was more than happy to oblige. He grabbed Dean, a hand on his arm and another on his leg, and with a strength that he shouldn’t have possessed, Not-Cas managed to get Dean on his stomach.

Dean wasn’t sure what was happening, only that he was stretched out across Cas’ denim clad lap with his face half shoved into the mattress. He suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine because of the manhandling, somehow still embarrassed even in his own mind that it was something that he liked. Shifting to prop himself up on his elbows, his entire train of thought was disrupted as Not-Cas spoke again.

“You see, Dean, I am really just a manifestation of your subconscious which means that I know everything about you. It doesn’t matter that I’ve borrowed this pretty skin because I still know what you want, what we want, and I think it’s time you do too.”

The first strike came as a complete shock to Dean, his eyes widening. Not-Cas’ palm hit the left side of his ass, the impact enough to stun him into silence.

“We both know you like a little pain.” Not-Cas hummed, rubbing his hand over the impact site to soothe it. “There’s nothing wrong with it, not really.”

Dean shifted again, his response dying on his lips as he felt a hand strike his right cheek. It stung, the tingling reaching deep into his muscle and sending a thrill straight to his cock. The shifting didn’t help, the friction of Cas’ jeans against the thin cotton of his boxers enough to make Dean bite his lip.

Not-Cas hummed contently, pausing a moment before tugging Dean’s boxers off to expose his red ass. “You like a little pain Dean, we always have. It started young, you remember when don’t you?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, staying silent. He felt the tips of Not-Cas’ fingers digging into the back of his thighs hard enough to bruise and he couldn’t help the low moan that ripped itself out of his throat.

“We were what, maybe fifteen?” Not-Cas murmured, fingers digging harder into Dean’s thighs. “We were out back with that blonde girl that hung around your uncle’s shop, making out against that car frame in the hot sun. Remember what happened?”

Dean knew he didn’t need to answer, Not-Cas already knew everything. He didn’t expect the sudden hand in his hair pulling his head up, fingers gripping the short strands hard enough it was just the right side of painful. The friction was worse now, the roughness of the jeans on his bare skin almost uncomfortably erotic. It didn’t help that he could feel how hard Not-Cas was, feel the bulge every time he shifted.

“I know you’re not answering and that’s fine for now because I don’t need you to talk. All I need is for you to be a good boy.”

Dean shivered, the praise doing something he hadn’t expected. The idea of Cas, even if this wasn’t Cas, taking over and being so domineering was more than appealing. It was a fantasy and Dean was happy to lose himself in it, eyes closing. There was a hand damp with spit suddenly underneath him and wrapping around his cock, bringing another moan out of him.

Not-Cas was a simple figment of his imagination and with every tug of his hand there came a slap or a pinch or some kind of grab that had Dean floating away from his thoughts and towards bliss. It didn’t matter that Not-Cas was clothed and it didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t really getting off because getting off in his mind was the next best thing. Two strokes became three and quiet moans grew louder and louder until Dean was exploding in Cas’ hand with a fresh handprint on his ass, face buried in the mattress as he floated higher and higher out of his dream.

~

Cas hit the water before he knew what was happening. The wind knocked from his lungs and frigid water rushed in, enveloping him both inside and out. His clothes dragged him down into the depths and he thrashed against the current, desperate to find which way was up. His lungs ached with exhaustion and his eyes stung, barely able to figure where he was as he felt the mucky bottom of the river hit his back.

Everything was dark and slimy plants seemed to wrap themselves around his ankles as if begging him to stay in the murky depths with him. An eternity seemed to pass as he pulled at the plants, striking his hand off of a rock and crying out. Water rushed in again and with it, the barest sliver of moonlight reflecting off of the surface. Vision swimming with dots, Cas made a desperate attempt to push off of the bottom of the river. The surface grew closer and closer but Cas’ vision was blackening by the second and any flickering hope he had of making it out was snuffing itself out.

His hand broke the surface just as he lost his vision completely and he felt the unmistakable grasp of another human hand on his as they pulled him from the river, heaving him onto the shore. The night air stung on his skin as he rolled onto his side, coughing and hacking the remaining river water onto the riverbank. Sharp stones dug into his palms as he expelled the last of the water, wincing as he rolled onto his back to try and catch his breath. The clothing he wore hung heavy from his skin but they didn’t feel like anything he’d ever worn before, the material thick and woolen.

“You’re going to freeze to death out here all wet like this. I’ll take you back to my home and we can get you all warmed up.”

Cas had nearly forgotten about the person who’d pulled him out of the river until he heard her speak, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The voice was familiar, far too familiar, and as he staggered to his feet, he got his first good look at his saviour. All he had to see was the shock of red hair to know that he’d found the woman yet again.

“I um, thank you.” Cas mumbled quietly, incredibly unsure of what was happening. He’d never talked with the woman before and this, this didn’t feel like a typical nightmare. Something was different and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“You’re simply lucky I was out by the river anyway.” She replied calmly, beginning a slow pace towards the forest. “Do you have a name, stranger?”

Cas hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. He had to tell her something but telling her his name didn’t feel like the right move.

“You can call me Castiel.” He sighed. “What should I call you?”

“Anna is fine.”

Nodding his head, Cas followed Anna through the woods. The wool was weighing him down but he was more worried by the sudden chill that had settled into his bones, shivering as he wrapped his arms around himself. Anna had never been able to interact with him like this in the dreams before and it worried him that she was now. His companion was silent as they walked, the wicker basket swaying in time with her steps.

The home they came upon was quaint, logs stacked on top of each other with a thatched roof and light flickering through slats in the shutters. Anna opened the door and stepped inside before she ushered Cas in, turning away to busy herself with the jars stacked on a large shelf. Cas’ eyes scanned over the furniture, noting the small bed and the cradle at the foot of it.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes, they’re just going to make you sick. There’s fresh clothing in the chest on the left side of the bed, hopefully they fit you. Feel free to lay your wet clothing just in front of the fire there.”

Cas didn’t say anything in response but did what Anna said, stripping the wet clothing from his shivering body. He spread the linen shirt, the woolen vest, and the torn trousers in front of the roaring fire before he reached into the chest. The fresh clothing was rough against his skin but it wasn’t wet and for that he was grateful. Cas turned again, anxiety mounting as the cradle came into view. Had Anna already sent her child into the wild maws of the river?

There was a child in the cradle, a child sleeping peacefully with a thumb in their mouth. Cas felt the worry leave his body as soon as he saw the child.

“You have a child?” Cas noted, partially a statement but also a question. “How old?”

“Just under a year. Her name is Temperance.” Anna said as she turned from her workbench, a bittersweet smile on her face when she saw Cas next to the cradle in the clothing that hadn’t been worn in at least a year. “There’s a blanket on the chair next to the fire, please sit and wrap it around yourself. The warmth will help you.”

Cas sat himself down on the chair, blanket wrapped around him as the heat from the fire lessened the chill in his bones. Anna was working away at something on the table, chopping some kind of herb or vegetable that smelled spicy. She had sprigs of herbs and flowers drying on strings on either side of her head and when Cas looked closer, he could see sheets covered in writing pinned on the wooden walls. There was something different about this, about the way she had everything organized and stashed. It didn’t feel normal but it did feel strangely familiar, the thoughts of his brother’s redheaded fiancée entering Cas’ mind.

“You’re a witch.”

Anna tensed, her shoulder bunching and her hands clenched tightly around a cup made of clay. She took a deep breath before she turned around, expression somber as she handed Cas the cup full of liquid.

“That accusation is baseless and wrong.” She said simply, seating herself on the chair directly across from Cas. “I am well versed in herbalism and natural remedies but that does not mean that I am a witch. And the tea I gave you isn’t poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s a blend meant to stimulate blood flow and keep you warm.”

Cas stared nervously at the cup before a taking a sip, the unmistakable flavour of ginger and cloves flooding his mouth. It was spicy and true to Anna’s word, it did feel like it was warming him the more he drank.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sorry.”

Anna sighed, running a hand over her face. “It’s fine, Castiel. You’re hardly the first to accuse me and you certainly won’t be the last to do so. The times we live in are trying, that’s hardly your fault or mine. We cannot control everything despite how much we want to.”

“The councillor of this town, he’s accused you.” Cas said, trying to ferret out the truth. It was now or never and he didn’t know if he’d ever have a non-nightmare like this again. “I overheard it the other day.”

Anna’s expression darkened, the energy in the home taking a dip into stress and tension. It was clear to Cas that she was beyond angry at the mention of the councillor and it was clear that he had wrong her in some way. Her voice dripped with venom when she spoke again, hands clenched so tight they were going white.

“He is nothing but a spineless coward so insecure on his throne built atop everyone else’s pain and suffering that the moment someone dares to threaten his position, he sends his dogs after them. I am not the first he has attacked but I will be the last.”

“What are you going to do?” Cas whispered, almost afraid of the insinuation in Anna’s voice.

She took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves. “What I am going to do doesn’t concern you so it’s best to keep it that way.”

Cas’ nerves weren’t any more settled than they were before but he knew well enough to leave alone, choosing to curl up in the chair.

“You seem tired, please lay down in my bed.” Anna said as she rose to her feet. “I have much to do and I’d like you to rest so you don’t get sick. It’s what Theo would want.”

Cas raised an eyebrow but did as she set, settling himself down on the firm bed. He hemmed and hawed for a moment before he spoke again.

“Theo?”

Anna smiled sadly, eyes cast down to Temperance who was still fast asleep. “Theo is my late husband. He was a kind man, the type of man I wish there were more of. He never saw our daughter but that isn’t his fault but never mind all of that, please just try to get some rest.”

Cas nodded his head, quietly thanked Anna for her hospitality, and lay down on the bed. All he had to do was close his eyes and then the nightmares were back.

Tendrils came and grabbed at his wrists and his ankles, pulling him down through the mattress and back into the void of horror. They pulled at his clothes, his skin, threatened to tear him apart and when he tried to scream, he felt them inside him.

~

Dean had been awake for hours, woken up by yet another dream that he’d enjoyed but been unable to stop. He didn’t mind them, despite their increasingly frightening intensity, but they were more than inconvenient when the object of his dreams happened to be lying in bed beside him.

Dean was lying straight on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling and hands resting on his stomach as his mind raced. He’d spent the better part of two hours getting himself calm after the dream and the last hour idling over every interaction he’d ever had with Cas while the boy lay beside him. Cas’ breathing had been quiet most of the night and he hadn’t moved much either but something was changing and Dean noticed it.

Cas’ breath had picked up in the last half hour, quiet nearly unnoticeable movements becoming deeper and more rapid. His chest was practically heaving now and his breath came in rapid gulps, as if something was sitting on his chest and wouldn’t get off. That went on for a couple minutes before Cas started to move. It was a gentle turning first but Cas was quickly tossing harder and faster, hands bunching in the sheets. His breaths came in quicker gasps and then Cas’ legs were moving, kicking behind him and hitting Dean.

Dean turned on his side, deep frown on his face as he stared at Cas. He wasn’t planning on trying to wake Cas up but then he saw the faint glint of tears streaking down his cheeks and heard the first gasped sob.

“Woah, Cas, hey it’s okay.” Dean murmured as he reached out, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

Trying to wake people up was a mixed bag so Dean wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from Cas. He felt Cas jerk away from his hand and then he was rolling over, fists bunching in Dean’s t-shirt. Dean’s concern grew and he shifted slightly, hand firm on Cas’ shoulder as he shook him harder. The shake was enough to rouse Cas from his sleep and naturally he did what he had always done, simply pulling himself closer to the warmest body he could find and burying his head in it.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” Dean mumbled, awkwardly trying to shift the two of them into an upright position. He managed to get them upright and Cas, in his attempt to stay as close as possible, practically climbed into Dean’s lap and held on tightly.

Cas didn’t care about how childish it seemed or the fact he was practically in Dean’s lap, all he wanted was comfort. Dean was there and he was real. Cas’ heart was racing in his chest as he tried to focus on his breathing and calming himself down, trying to use the techniques Thea had taught him. He could hear his own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the corner, could smell the fresh scent of laundry detergent on the clean shirt Dean had given him, but most importantly, Cas could feel that Dean was living and breathing beneath him.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Cas whispered, voice muffled by Dean’s chest.

“It’s fine, Cas, don’t worry.” Dean replied, awkwardly wrapping an arm around Cas to hold him in a half hug. “You were having a nightmare I think, didn’t look good.”

Cas nodded, breathing slowly steadying. He was quickly becoming more aware of the fact that he was sitting on Dean’s lap and that he’d had a nightmare. The nightmares weren’t anything new but he’d never had one in front of anyone else and he was more than a little worried Dean would ask what it was about. There was no good way to explain that he was having interactively horrific nightmares about an eyeless woman with a baby and a dead husband. Even if the nightmares weren’t that bad, having nightmares and crying like a child wasn’t exactly appealing to someone you were trying to possibly date.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m so sorry.” Cas mumbled, pulling himself away from Dean.

The loss of contact and warmth was immediate and Cas regretted it, wanting to seek more comfort from Dean’s warm and strong arms. But Cas didn’t give in, instead shifting to lean back against the headboard and pull his knees up to his chest.

“I was already awake, I promise you didn’t wake me up.” Dean reassured, sliding off of his bed. “I’m going to make you a cup of tea, I think it’ll help. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, Dean was padding out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He made the tea, a vanilla chamomile he kept around for when he couldn’t seem to sleep, and returned to his room with it a few minutes later. Cas hadn’t moved from his position against the headboard and Dean sat down beside him, holding out the mug.

“It’s hot so be careful.” He said, waiting for Cas to take the mug before he leaned back too. “Do you want to talk about what you were dreaming about or do you just want to sit for a little bit?”

“I just want to sit.”

Dean nodded, closing his eyes as he settled down. There was no rush or hurry to fall back asleep and Dean knew he was too worried to fall asleep anyway. He let Cas sit for several minutes and sip away at the tea, only opening his eyes when he heard Cas set the empty mug on his bedside table. The awkwardness was palpable as the pair sat there, Dean feeling the need to break it.

“I know it’s probably really uncomfortable to have a nightmare and wake up in someone else’s bed, even worse when they’re there to see it, but it’s not something to be embarrassed about. Nightmares are normal and being upset by them is normal too, it happens all the time. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve woken up from nightmares around other people or even the number of times Charlie’s woken up in my bed freaked out about something. Hell, my younger brother had nightmares I saw for years.”

“It’s childish for a twenty-one year old to have nightmares and cry about it.” Cas mumbled, staring at his knees. “They’ve just- I’ve been having these for a while and they’re not going away.”

Dean nodded, scooting closer to Cas. “Is it okay if I put my arm around you? Sometimes physical touch can help.”

Cas shifted again, closing the gap to lean against Dean’s side and settled down as he felt the arm wrap around his shoulders. The touch was comforting and Cas almost hated that Dean had been right about that. He thought about opening up to Dean, telling him about what the nightmares were but Dean was talking again before he had the chance to.

“I had nightmares for years after my dad died so I get it. You’ve seen something horrific or had some kind of trauma occur so it’s only natural that your brain is tormenting you with it. Stuff like that isn’t just something you can get over, not without getting to the root of what’s causing it. I couldn’t get over the nightmares about my dad until I went to therapy, until I talked to someone who could help me make sense of what was happening. All I’m really trying to say is that nightmares are normal and you don’t have to deal with them alone.”

“What were they like? Your nightmares I mean.” Cas asked.

Dean paused to think, voice coming out soft and vulnerable. It was clear that he didn’t talk about this often.

“He died in a house fire, died getting me out before everything collapsed.” Dean said. “I dreamt for years about being back in that house and not getting out. Every nightmare I had I could feel my skin burning off, could feel every ounce of fear and pain that I know he went through. I’d wake up screaming, clawing at my throat like the air was so thick with smoke I couldn’t breathe.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry Dean.” Cas whispered.

Dean shrugged the best he could with his arm around Cas. “It’s fine, I’m over it. That’s what years of therapy were for. My entire point, Cas, is that having nightmares is fine and totally normal. It’s fine to have them around other people, it’s not like you can control them.”

“I keep drowning,” Cas admitted quietly. He wasn’t going to share everything but Dean deserved to know a little bit.  “Or being choked or being hunted and I don’t know why. I’m not afraid of water or being choked or being hunted so I don’t know what any of it means other than the fact that I keep having them and I’m exhausted.”

“Is there anything going on in your life where you feel like you can’t talk or aren’t allowed to have a say?” Dean asked. “Or even if there’s something you’ve been not allowing yourself to have or to feel, that can kind of manifest itself in something like this.”

“My life’s a mess so yeah, there’s a lot I can’t really talk about or feel like I can talk about.”

“There’s your problem then. If you start talking about what’s going on then maybe you’ll stop having nightmares because you’re working through whatever is going on. But I’m not an expert so I don’t think you should take my advice as gold.”

Cas nodded, letting them sit more in silence before he spoke again. “Thanks, Dean.”

“That’s what friends are for, don’t worry about it.” He said, pulling his arm away. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep anymore? Not that I hate your company, I’m just a little talked out right now.”

Cas tried to chase Dean’s arm despite himself, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. Dean had been so understanding and the physical comfort had helped a lot and Cas wanted more of it, selfish in his motives. He prayed Dean hadn’t noticed but Dean was Dean so of course he had and the other boy smiled softly, wiggling down under the covers before half opening his arms.

“Why are your arms open?” Cas asked, fairly certain of the answer but choosing to ask anyway.

“You seemed to like my arm around you and I know falling back to sleep is hard after a nightmare so there’s an easy solution: come cuddle with me. If that makes you uncomfortable then you don’t have to but I know that it can help sometimes and I also know that any of my friends will tell you that I’m a fantastic cuddler.”

“You cuddle all of your friends?”

“Oh absolutely I do. I’ve technically slept with three of them too but that’s a story for another time.” Dean chuckled. “I won’t be offended if you say no so there’s no pressure.”

Cas knew the cuddling would only make his feelings for Dean even stronger and his internal conflict even worse but he didn’t care. Dean’s arms were warm and muscular and Cas was a simple human with simple wants and all his wants were at the moment were physical comfort and no more nightmares. He crawled over to Dean and very awkwardly managed to insert himself in the boy’s arms.

“Hold on, this isn’t going to work.” Dean mumbled as he let go, flopping onto his back. “Here, come on and half spoon me. It’ll be comfier for you and then there’s the whole hearing my heart thing which I’ve been told is pretty calming if you’re all worked up about something.”

Cas scooted closer, taking a minute or so to figure out the best way to lay before he settled his head on Dean’s chest. He could hear Dean’s steady heartbeat and Dean had been right, the rhythm was calming. Dean pulled the blankets back over them before he settled down, closing his eyes.

“Just close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of my heart, okay? Or even try to match your breathing with mine. I promise you’ll be out in no time and if you do have another nightmare, I’ll be right here beside you.”

“Thank you, Dean. For all of this, for being my friend.”

Dean smiled tiredly, a bitter taste in his mouth at just how much that statement made him feel.

“Thanks for being mine too, Cas.”

Chapter Text

Waking up in Dean Winchester’s arms was something that had occupied Cas’ mind for months and weeks after their fated sleepover, Cas was still thinking about it. He’d woken up that morning safe and secure, head still on Dean’s chest and body still pressed against his side. Cas had pulled away when he was awake enough and Dean had rolled to try and pull him back, a tired plea for more cuddles burned forever into Cas’ brain. He’d run away, of course, afraid of their friendship becoming something else he wasn’t prepared for.

They hadn’t talked about it in the few times since they’d hung out that night but there was something different between them now, a kind of unspoken bond that was beginning to leave friendship behind. Cas always sought Dean out, tried to keep him as close when they did anything together and Dean let him. Dean was quick to press close to Cas, quick to take any opportunity he could to touch Cas in a way that wasn’t horrifically inappropriate.

Cas’ nightmares hadn’t stopped but they had lessened since that night, plaguing him a few nights a week instead of every night.  He still thought of Anna often, determined to figure out just who she was and just what had happened to her. It was this preoccupation that consumed his mind as he wandered downstairs on a Sunday morning.

Grace was a creature of habit and Sunday mornings meant one thing: the newspaper crossword, a comically large mug of tea, and a wonky ceramic bowl full of oatmeal, but that wasn’t what Cas saw. Her short hair was tied back, she had an apron on, and there were three large cookbooks spread out across the counter. Ingredients covered the counter behind her and she glanced up from juicing her lemons, smiling warmly at Cas.

“Good morning sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”

 "No worse than usual.” Cas shrugged, eyebrow raised. “This isn’t your normal Sunday routine.”

Grace shook her head, setting down the lemon in her hand before wiping them on her apron. “No, it isn’t. We’re having guests for dinner tonight, if you don’t have plans with your friends tonight that is.”

“No plans, we’ve kind of been hanging out a lot and I need a break. Who’s coming over?”

“Gabriel and his Fiancée. Possibly Amara, jury’s still out on her.”

 Cas rolled his eyes, sighing as he sat down at the table. “His fiancée is cool but I could do without him. I’m still kind of pissed at him. Seeing Aunt Amara might not be bad though, haven’t seen her in a while which is a little weird all things considered.”

Grace tensed slightly, reaching for a knife and large orange. It was easier to talk about Amara if she had something for her hands to do, even easier if she didn’t have to look at Cas. The guilt of the entire affair still weighed heavily on her shoulders and the fight wasn’t helping that either.

“We got into a fight several weeks ago and I may have told her to get the hell out.” Grace mumbled. “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have told her to but I was upset. So I don’t know if she’s coming tonight or not and I’ve been too afraid to go and see her to clear the air.”

“Must’ve been serious if you two fought.” Cas mumbled, both concerned and suspicious. “Are you planning on reaching out before tonight?”

A pause hung in the dead air between them before Grace glanced up at her son. Her expression, while neutral, was betrayed by her eyes. There was a sort of terror in them, the kind that came with thinking talking would only make things worse. Cas knew that terror all too well and he frowned, lips pursed together. He heard his mother reply in a clipped tone, like she was trying to keep the frustration from clawing its way up and out of her throat.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea for me to do.”

Cas considered the answer for a moment before he replied, pulling himself up from his chair. “I’ll go talk to her then. I’ve got to get gas and scope something out for a hangout anyway, her hotel’s right near the place. It’s still the one on Roehampton right?”

“I can’t ask you to do that. I’m a grownup and you really shouldn’t have to deal with more of my mess than you already have.”

“Well good thing I’m offering and you’re not asking. Do you need any extra groceries or anything else while I’m out?”

Grace smiled gratefully, glancing down at her recipe books before nodding her head. “Olive oil, preferably hojiblanca if you can find it, and some whole grain Dijon. You’re an angel, thank you.”

Cas nodded and took a moment to decide he was dressed fine to venture out in public before he headed out, grabbing his keys from the bowl in the front entrance. His stop for gas was first and then he was off to find his aunt, heading towards the older end of town. It was a small inn, a sort of cross between a hotel and a bed & breakfast, and from the outside it looked charming. Moving past the rich fall foliage, the ivy covering the brick walls, and the general charm of the wooden floors and antique looking furniture, Cas made his way into the building and up to the room his aunt was occupying. His aunt appeared after a few knocks on the door, eyebrow raised when she saw her nephew.

“You aren’t who I was expecting but hello, long time no see.”

“Mom was nervous about coming to see you, said something about a fight, so I offered to come instead. I also have business in this end of town.” Cas explained. “Can I come in or this a bad time?”

Amara stepped back, inviting Cas inside. The room was spick and span, the only sign Amara actually lived there the books and notebooks spread across the desk next to the window. It was bare and empty, certainly not a place Cas enjoyed being in.

“So,” Amara said as she sat back on her perfectly made bed, “tell me what’s been going on with you? It’s been a while and you look like you’ve been sleeping better. The bags are only slightly noticeable now.”

“I have been, sleeping better I mean. The nightmares are still there but they’ve kind of gotten a little better, definitely showing up less now. But I’m not the reason I’m here, my mom is.”

“She told you about the fight then.”

“Well she told me you had a fight, didn’t tell me what it was about but I also didn’t ask. Do I get to know what it was about?”

Amara sighed, running a hand over her face. She knew it was impossible that Grace had shared everything with Cas and looking closer at her nephew, she was sure that Grace had shared nothing with him. There was no way he’d be asking the question he was if he had any inkling of what was going on with his mother, of what that actually meant for him. Betraying Grace, despite how upset Amara was with her, wasn’t an option but she hated lying to Cas when she knew it concerned him and his life.

“She gets preoccupied with her paintings and sometimes forgets to take care of herself. All I wanted was to make sure she was taking care of herself.” Amara explained, telling Cas the truth just not all of it.

Cas eyes narrowed. “She wouldn’t tell you to get the hell out over something that simple but I’m not going to argue because everyone in this family is so fucking stubborn so I know I won’t get a proper answer anyway. Moving on, mom’s having Gabe and his fiancée over for dinner tonight and she wants you there.”

Amara’s expression fell, genuine disappointment crossing her face. “Oh I can’t tonight, Cas. I’d really love to but I already have dinner plans and I would cancel but they’re with my future boss so I can’t.”

 “Mom’s not going to be happy but I think she’ll understand. I think she thinks I’m going to ditch her to spend tonight with a friend and we both know that Gabe is flaky as hell.”

“I’d love to come see her once I’m done with the dinner but I don’t know what time that’ll be, so maybe just let her know.” Amara took another moment to mull over what Cas was saying before she raised an eyebrow. “She’s worried that you, my favourite homebody nephew, is going to ditch her for your friends? How often are you out with your friends now?”

“More than before but I don’t think it’s excessive, I just think she’s a little lonely right now. I’ve only missed a couple family dinners and the one wasn’t technically my fault because Dean wouldn’t stop talking about the movie and I feel bad interrupting him when he gets so excited. ” Cas mumbled, leaning against the wall.

“Dean? Your sexy makeout friend Dean?”

Cas flushed, nodding his head. He’d almost forgotten that he’d told Amara but her sudden interest quickly relieved him of that notion. “We’re just friends right now, friends that cuddle but still just friends.”

“Well if that’s what you’re comfortable with then good for you.” She smiled, turning away so she could root through her closet. “Cuddling is usually how it starts, that and the stubborn unwillingness to admit that you do in fact like them. Same thing happened with me and your mother and look where we are now.”

“Maybe that’s what’ll happen, I don’t know.”

“We all experience things in our own way, nothing wrong with that. Now, you know I love you but I do in fact have to start getting everything ready for this dinner which means showering and I really don’t think you want to stick around for that.”

Cas was quick to shake his head, pushing off of the wall. “I’ll let mom know you can’t make it but that you’d like to come around a little later. Is there anything else I should let her know?”

“Just let her know I love her.”

“Okay, will do. Good luck with the dinner and good luck with mom later.”

Amara offered Cas a final smile before he slipped out of her room, closing the door behind him. His mind was whirling with thoughts of the fight, both the knowledge of it happening and that Amara wasn’t telling him everything. Yes his mom often got distracted painting and forgot to do things she needed to do but that wouldn’t have been the sole cause of a fight as explosive as that. The entire affair had an air of suspicious activity and intent and it made Cas wary. He didn’t know where the lie was but he knew it was there.

The fight preoccupied him as he wandered the aisles of the grocery store for what his mother asked but his thoughts quickly turned when he stepped back outside. As he scouted out the route for the following Saturday, Cas’ thoughts drifted to Dean and their relationship. They were close, closer than most male friends were, and he hadn’t really thought about it until Amara had mentioned it. Between the cuddling and the closeness, Cas had half a mind to assume everyone else assumed they were an item. Maybe he’d make more of a move on Saturday, that wouldn’t be so bad. A little handholding never killed anyone.

The drive home was his time to think about the nightmares, particularly the one where he had spoken to Anna. She had been kind to him and her child had still been alive so what had happened that had caused the horrific scene he’d seen. What on earth had been horrific enough for her to send her child down the river and gouge out her own eyes? The only thing Cas was sure of, aside from the fact he was probably nearing a stress induced psychotic break, was that Anna had to have been a real person. There was nothing in his mind that could convince him otherwise.

When Cas walked back into the kitchen, the energy in the room had drastically shifted. Grace’s good mood had soured and there was an air of frustration and malaise as she sliced through meat with a sharp knife. She looked up at the sound of the door closing, offering Cas a tight smile.

“Your brother isn’t coming, apparently he has urgent business he needs to fly out for. His fiancée is still coming though which is a sweet gesture that’s probably just going to end up feeling awkward.”

“Aunt Amara can’t make it either, she has a dinner to go to. It’s some kind of fancy thing with the university I think, but I’m not sure. She did say that she wants to come around after though, to see you.” Cas said, setting the oil and Dijon on the countertop.

Grace threw her hands up in the air, clearly irritated. “Great, fantastic! I just love that I’ve practically wasted my entire morning when I could’ve been painting or working. You might as well make plans with your friends too.”

Cas took a step back, wary of the outburst. It didn’t feel like something his mother would do and the uncharacteristic action set him slightly on edge. He wasn’t planning on leaving but now he almost wanted to.

“No, I’m still staying for dinner. I was going to offer to help you finish cooking if you needed help.”

Grace sighed deeply, picking the knife back up to finish cutting the pork on her cutting board. “I’ll be fine in the kitchen but thank you for offering. If you do want to help, you can go up to the attic and grab the nice china. I’m still planning on making this look nice.”

“We have an attic?”

“We do, the entrance is just in front of my room.” Grace said. “I haven’t been up there since you were born but I know the china is up there. I would go but I have three pans on the stove and a cake in the oven.”

“Why haven’t you gone up there?”

Grace shrugged, a slight movement of her shoulders that Cas was all too familiar with. It wasn’t a brushing off shrug so much as it was a shrug of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ which usually meant it was about his father, Amara, or his grandmother.

“Am I allowed to go through things up there or do you just want the china and that’s it?”

“Be careful if you touch things, I don’t know how fragile they are. There’s probably all kinds of cobwebs and dust up there and probably a burnt out lightbulb so I’d grab a flashlight from the junk drawer before you head up.”

Cas nodded his head, pulling the drawer open so he could grab the flashlight. He was still unsure about going up into the attic he hadn’t known had existed but he was intrigued too. There had to be some kind of hidden treasure or, at the very least, a baby picture of his mother.

He found the hatch quickly, straining on his tiptoes so that he could grab the ring pull and pull it down. It came down with the protesting squeals of ancient hinges and a cloud of dust, Cas stepping back to avoid the cloud. He inhaled the dust and coughed a few times, clearing his lungs before he reached to pull the attached ladder down. It felt like he was staring down the maw of a beast and he forced himself through the anxiety, taking the first step onto the ladder and towards the attic.

“Please let this just be a normal attic.” He mumbled.

The wooden floor creaked beneath Cas’ feet as he set foot in the attic and he reached out to steady himself, the wooden support beam rough under his hand. Stale air flooded his nostrils and dust coated the inside of his mouth, a generally unpleasant experience his mother had warned him about. He fiddled around trying to find a switch, fingers catching one and flicking it up. With a crackle and a slight burnt smell, the light fixture powered on and flooded the room with a dingy yellow light.

The cabinet that housed the china was directly in front of Cas but his eyes slid past it, trying to take everything else. There were piles upon piles of cardboard boxes stacked against the walls, old furniture slowly disintegrating in piles by a small window overlooking the backyard, and then a space that didn’t seem to fit with the cluttered mess of everything else. A trunk sat deep in the darkest part of the attic, thick leather and metal clasps rusting and rotting with age. It didn’t fit and Cas almost felt the air grow colder as he took a step towards it, shivers taking him over.

“What are you?” He whispered as he crouched down in front of the trunk.

The trunk was some kind of rotting green material and the straps a black leather so cracked that Cas didn’t want to touch them. Brassy metal clasps had corroded to the point of uselessness and Cas knew it would be easy to push the lid open and get inside. He had to goad himself into looking inside and he took a deep breath before he pushed the lid open, a solid thump echoing in the enclosed space.

There was nothing but white fabric in the trunk and Cas raised an eyebrow in confusion. The fabric was dirty but nowhere near the deterioration of the trunk and Cas felt his curiosity pique as he reached for it, pulling out metres of fabric and setting it on the floor. It was a dress, a dress with puffed sleeves and a heavy silk skirt. Cas knew he’d seen it before but he couldn’t register where, not until he looked further in the box. There was a photograph of his mother looking much younger than she was now, decked out in the dress looking positively miserable next to a younger version of his father.

It struck Cas just how much he looked like his father and he quickly turned the photo on its face, refusing to look at it again.

Beneath the dress was a series of paintings, ones that looked like his mother had done. The first was unmistakable, his eldest brother looking as rebellious as he always had. Snakes surrounded him and he held an apple in his hand. How ironic it was, Cas mused, that Lucifer had been painted that way. He pulled the next painting out and then the next and the next until he had six paintings lined up next to the wedding dress. Every one of his brothers had been depicted, each painting religious in its motif but beautiful; nothing like he had seen his mother paint before. But there were only six and Cas was the seventh so where was his painting? If his mother had so lovingly painted all of his brothers, where was his painting?

“I know I’m her favourite so this is so not fair.” Cas mumbled, turning back to the chest.

He dug past the photo albums, the childhood stuffed animals, and a few books to try and find the bottom of the never-ending trunk. Buried deep in the trunk, Cas found another book. This one was pink with a gold clasp and he knew as soon as he opened the cover, that it had to have been his mother’s diary. He wanted to read it but quickly closed it and set it aside, refusing to invade her privacy.

A flash of faded yellowing paper caught his eye and Cas leaned further into the chest, eyes scanning the corner he could see. It had to be an envelope or a paper of some kind and he tried to grab it, fingers slipping from its surface. He shifted on his knees to get a better angle, one hand gripping the paper while the other pulled at the crumbling metal brace the paper was wedged under. The brace buckled and snapped off, the sudden force shifting Cas’ weight to knock the wind out of his lungs and his body on his back.

His lungs ached as he tried to recover his breath, head spinning and vision blurred with dots. The piece of paper was an envelope as it turned out, one thick with either paper or some kind of waterlogging. Cas rolled onto his side, staring at the envelope in the dingy light. The addressee line was beyond faded but Cas could make out a single name in the return address: Faith.

He went to turn the envelope over, planning on opening it, but his mother’s voice caught him off-guard and he jumped.

“Are you doing alright up there, sweetheart?” Grace asked, clearly at the bottom of the attic ladder. “I need the china in the next couple minutes.”

“Be right down!” Cas replied, quickly tucking the letter in his hoodie pocket before he was pulling himself off of the floor. He took a few minutes to put the china into the sturdiest box he could find before he was gingerly climbing back down the ladder, the light in the hallways almost blinding with its brightness.

Grace chuckled when she saw him, reaching out to brush some cobwebs from his hair. “Looks like you found the cobwebs with the china too.”

“I didn’t realize how much there is up there.”

“It’s deceptive, I know.” She chuckled, beginning the journey back to the kitchen. “Thank you for grabbing the china, I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Is it okay if I grab a shower before Rowena shows up? I feel a little gross right now.”

Grace nodded and took the china from Cas, continuing on her path towards the kitchen. She put the finishing touches on everything she had prepared, placing the food in the nice dishes and on the table before she set the table. Her mood seemed to fall as she set out three places and not five, wishing she could see Gabe and Amara. Everything felt wrong since the fight but Grace was too proud to admit she had misspoken but one of that mattered when she heard the doorbell. Grace took a deep breath, smoothed the fabric of her blouse, and made her way to the door.

“You must be Rowena.” She smiled, stepping aside to let her in. “I’m Gabriel’s mother but please just call me Grace.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Grace.” Rowena replied. “Gabe sends his apologies for being called away and he’s sent me over with a decent bottle of wine. It’s a dry red apparently.”

Grace shook her head, a small smile on her face. Gabriel had always been one to placate an apology with a gift and Grace had no issue with taking them. She led Rowena to the kitchen, turning slightly to finish the final elements of the meal.

“I apologize for how hectic everything is, it’s been a long day. My youngest is also joining us if that’s alright.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Castiel, it’ll be lovely to see him again.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, hand wrapped around a corkscrew. “I didn’t realize that you two know each other.”

“We do. His best friend works at my shop so he’s been in and out forever, came in a few weeks ago to ask me a couple questions about research and genealogy.”

Grace began to continue the conversation but Cas made himself known, shuffling into the kitchen with wet hair and a nicer outfit. He was quick to slide into one of the available chairs, taking a look at Rowena. She was in one of her signature dresses, a dark blue number with sheer sleeves and Cas marvelled at the way her hair was piled meticulously in a bun on her head. Everything about her was elegant and Cas still didn’t know how Gabriel had managed to land her.

“You look nice tonight, I like your dress.” Cas said.

Rowena smiled back at Cas, clearly pleased. “Thank you, it’s one of the ones your brother insisted I buy. He apologizes for not being here and he told me to tell you that he hopes you’re finally getting dicked down.”

Cas flushed red immediately, suddenly finding the grain pattern of the table incredibly interesting. He wasn’t surprised Gabriel was somehow invested in his dating life but the fact Rowena had not only brought it up, but brought it up in front of his mother, was mortifying. Grace couldn’t stop the little chuckle that escaped, shaking her head.

“Cas is doing his best.” She said, sitting down at the table. “We all move at our own pace and I’m sure you know that Gabriel’s pace is quicker than most. Certainly jarring.”

“Can we move on and eat, please?” Cas mumbled, staring at the china instead of the table. “Interrogate our guest, she’s a lot cooler than my love life.”

Both women chuckled and Grace took a moment to explain what she had made before she let everyone serve themselves, happy to see Rowena and Cas pile their plates high. Several minutes passed as the trio ate, Grace eventually excusing herself from the table to grab the bottle of wine and three glasses.

“Anybody else up for a glass?”

“I’d love one, thank you.” Rowena said, leaning back in her chair. “This meal is delicious, Grace. It’s exactly what I needed after the chaos of today.”

Grace poured a glass and handed it over, pouring another glass for herself.

“You’re in the history phd program aren’t you? Busy day digging through the books?” She asked, pausing to pass the bottle of wine to Cas. He was an adult, drinking wasn’t a crime.

“More like trekking through the woods to a set of local ruins. My research is focused on local history so I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to take a look at something a lot of people haven’t seen before. It’s funny though, because Cas came to me the other day asking how to find someone in history and I didn’t think much of it at the time but then I started digging.”

Cas immediately clued into the conversation he’d been checked out of, sitting up straight in his chair so he could see Rowena better. He was suddenly aware of the strength of his heartbeat and the fluttering of anxiety in his stomach. Anna was always in the back of his mind but he hadn’t expected Rowena to keep investigating and the fact she’d brought that up in front of his mother made him worry.

“I didn’t realize you actually looked into it.” Cas mumbled. “I didn’t find anything when I looked but then again history isn’t really my thing.”

“There isn’t anything to find.”

“What does that mean? Isn’t there always supposed to be some kind of paper trail.”

“It means exactly what you think it does. It means there is no trail of her existence anywhere: no records, no photos, nothing in any kind of census. So whoever your mysterious woman is, she kept herself hidden for good reason.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Thanks for looking, I appreciate it.”

“Oh I’m going to keep digging, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. There’s nothing natural about how dead the search was, something’s not right. There’s no record of that last name even being in this area but that doesn’t feel right. You’ve handed me a mystery and I’m going to figure it out one way or another.”

Grace sat there and sipped at her wine as she listened to the pair talk, more than content to fade into the background. She liked Rowena, liked how put together and professional she seemed; it would be a good match for Gabriel and all of his energy. It was obvious that her and Cas seemed to get along too and that was a bonus. If anyone could get him out of his shell, Grace was more than happy to be around them. Her mind drifted towards Amara the longer she sat silent. She regretted their fight and wished she’d been at the dinner but knowing she’d stop by later was enough to keep her sated for now.

Grace clued back into the conversation when Cas gently elbowed her.

“Mom, you good? Rowena asked you a question but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean for my mind to wander so much.” Grace mumbled, glancing up at Rowena. “You had a question?”

“I did, yes. I was just chatting with Cas about running the apothecary, that’s my full time job when I’m not working on my doctorate, and then we got on the topic of witchcraft and divination. I offered to read his tea leaves and was just wondering if you’d like yours read as well.”

“I suppose it won’t hurt.” Grace nodded as she got up from the table, refilling the kettle before retrieving three tea cups. “I was going to ask you about the shop, actually. How on earth did you ever come up with that as an idea? What drew you to that in the first place?”

“My family’s always been spiritual and believed in more than just what we can prove so it’s a second nature thing for me. It lets me be connected with my family and the world around me in a way that’s just very fulfilling. As for why I started the business, I believe that everyone should be encouraged to pursue their interests and deepen their connection with the world. We all experience things so differently and some people are just more attuned to the spiritual world.”

Grace nodded her head, turning away to spoon loose leaf green tea into the three cups. “You would get along well with my partner, she’s always been interested in things like that. She tried to get me to get a reading years ago but I wasn’t having it. I think she’d chuckle at this though.”

“You never told me about that. I didn’t know she liked stuff like that.” Cas said, accepting his mug of tea.

“Gabriel’s told me about her a few times, she seems quite knowledgeable from what I hear. Was it any particular kind of reading?”

“Tarot, I believe.”

Rowena nodded her head in acknowledgement before she leaned back in her chair, sipping at her tea. She’d spent enough time around Cas to recognize the air around him, to see the shimmering oil slick of his aura. His was dark but shining, something deceptively dark that didn’t seem to fit. She’d spent more than enough time with his older brother and his aura wasn’t dark, it was a bright happy yellow. But Grace’s, hers was something else. It was so dark the light almost seemed to bend, so thick that it seemed to swallow her whole. The woman had secrets, deep dark secrets, and Rowena was wary.

“Alright, which one of you is first? Remember, ask a question before you hand it over.” Rowena said, setting her own tea to the side.

Cas slid his cup and saucer over first, watching almost eagerly as Rowena took it. She swirled counter clockwise three times before turning the cup upside down, tapping three times on the bottom. Turning the cup right side up again, she took in the shapes in the leaves and began to formulate her thoughts.

“You have an interesting cup.” She mumbled, peering closer. “A mixed bag for sure, leaning towards getting better.”

Cas raised an eyebrow as he glanced into his cup. All he could see were clumps, certainly nothing positive or negative.

“I see an initial, D, in your immediate future. It’s connected by chains to something in your near future, a cat. Be careful with that, a secret you may not want to share or may not want to hear will come to light. It’s the butterflies that are confusing me here.”

“Butterflies? Those seem like they’d be happy.”

“They’re more neutral than anything, they have to do with fate.” Rowena said, shifting the teacup so she could show Cas. “You can see they show up in every third of the cup and they’re linked to the D and the cat with those sort of chains. So this D and the secret, they’re linked by fate and they’re meant to happen. As for whether or not it’s good, that’s really up to your interpretation.”

Cas was chuffed that D, clearly Dean, was in his immediate future but the rest of the reading left a bitter taste in his mouth. There were too many secrets floating around him and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if one of them got out, especially if it had anything to do with the dreams he was having. The butterflies and chains felt like they should be concerning but Cas still wasn’t entirely sure he believed in fate as a general concept.

“I take it D is the boy you’ve been gallivanting about with.” Grace smiled, playfully elbowing Cas. “You should’ve invited him over tonight, promise I wouldn’t have scared him away.”

“We’re just friends so it’s not gallivanting and he was busy. He has dinner with his mom and his little brother the first Saturday night of every month and he cares about them too much to skip. But let’s move on, it’s your turn.”

Rowena took Grace’s cup and repeated what she had done for Cas’ cup, fighting to keep her expression neutral when she took a look at the leaves. It was the clearest she had ever seen the leaves and in this case it wasn’t a good thing. Her eyes skimmed past a knife, clouds, an hourglass, and an owl and the sinking feeling in her stomach was opening into a chasm.

“Hey Cas, I wanted to talk to your mom about some things about your brother and the wedding. Do you think we could have a couple minutes?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders before excusing himself, more than happy to not have to sit through wedding details he didn’t need to know. With Cas out of the room, Rowena let her neutral expression fall.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, Grace. It’s bad.”

Grace sighed, running a hand over her face. “Let me guess, serious troubles with imminent danger. Probably something to do with a fight and sickness, maybe death?”

“You’re sure you’ve never had a reading done?” Rowena asked, a cold chill creeping up her spine. Grace wasn’t surprised; in fact, she looked resigned.

“I’ve had dreams all of my life, visions that haunt me at night and force themselves out of my head. The only reason I sleep is because I paint them. They’re horrible and they’re not going away and I’ve passed them to Castiel.”

“There is something that hangs around the pair of you, something old and something dark.”

“I know, I’ve known for years. I don’t know what it is but it’s there and I won’t be rid of it until the imminent death, probably mine or my son’s.” Grace said, staring down at the table. “I know you’re probably going to offer help and normally I wouldn’t say yes, but I am so tired and I am so scared so I will take whatever you can give me.”

Rowena frowned, chewing on her lip as she thought. Gabriel didn’t have any of the same signs that Cas and Grace had so it was safe to assume that he wasn’t a part of what was going on. Cas knew something was going on but didn’t have the whole picture and Rowena suspected Grace didn’t know everything either. It was a delicate game of telephone that would almost certainly end in tragedy.

“These dreams, you say that Cas has them too. Any chance you can tell me more on what they’re about?”

Grace’s immediate instinct was to deny everything but she knew that would do no good. “They’ve always changed but every single one has had the same little detail. There’s this woman and I don’t know who she is but she’s always watching.”

“You don’t have to say anything else, I’m already looking into a woman for Cas and she’s probably the same person. Look, I really think you two need to talk about this but it isn’t any of my business either. I’m going to keep looking into this but in the mean time I really think that you two need to be doing things to protect yourselves, energetically and spiritually. I can help you with that if you swing by my shop sometime or invite me over for some tea on a weekend.”

“Gabriel got lucky with you, I see that quite clearly. Thank you for coming for dinner and for everything else as well, it’s appreciated.”

“It’s not a problem, I’d do it for anybody.” Rowena replied, finally getting out of her chair. It was high time she left and the wheels in her brain were already turning. “Tell Cas I’ll see him around the shop.”

Grace smiled and saw Rowena to the door with a tupperware of leftovers to take home before she returned to the kitchen to clean everything up. Her brain wandered as she cleaned, darting from dreams to Amara to reading and back again. It was a lot, too much really, but it also wasn’t surprising either that everything was coming to a head. She wanted to retire to her studio and paint her feelings away but that wasn’t the adult option and she sighed, scaling the stairs.

“Mind if I come in?” She asked, knocking at Cas’ door.

Cas glanced up from his desk where he was clearly preoccupied, bright light shining on an envelope. “Yeah, sure, come in. Did Rowena get off okay?”

“Oh yes, she did. She’s wonderful, I’m so thrilled your brother’s found someone who can hopefully balance him out.” Grace chuckled, entering Cas’ room and planting herself behind his chair.

There was an envelope on his desk, old and thick with water damage. The paper was yellowed and the stamp carefully, ink spread out in faded splotches. Grace had never seen the envelope before but it was clear that Cas was interested in it. He hadn’t opened it yet but it looked like he’d been writing notes and taking pictures of it.

“Is that a new project of yours? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at something like this.”

“Found it in the attic in some old steamer trunk. It was buried under photo albums and a wedding dress and what I think was your high school diary. Didn’t read it though so not sure about that guess.”

Grace seemed to quiet down more than Cas had grown used to in the time since his father was gone. He turned around, unsurprised to see her sitting down on the edge of his bed. Her shoulders were sagging though, the look of quiet sadness taking over.

“I haven’t opened that trunk since you were born. Aside from the wedding dress, it’s got all of my mother’s things in it, well what’s left of them.”

“I didn’t know.” Cas mumbled.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I didn’t tell you that you couldn’t go in. There shouldn’t have been any letters in it though, she didn’t have any when she passed away.”

“It was wedged in-between the wall and one of the support brackets right at the bottom so it’s been in there for a while. I took the stamp off and googled it and I think it’s from around the time you were a kid but I’m not sure. I’d want to ask Aunt Amara to confirm that.”

Grace’s curiosity got the better of her and she resumed her position behind Cas’ cheer, peering over his shoulder at the envelope. It was hard to make out who it was addressed to and the return address was nearly impossible to read save for a single half of a name.

“I don’t think my mother ever knew anyone named Faith and I know I certainly didn’t back then. Are you going to open the envelope?”

Cas shook his head. “I wanna see what Aunt Amara thinks about it first. If that’s okay with you, I mean. It’s probably a letter for you anyway. I was gonna ask her tomorrow, I kind of assumed she would stay the night when she stops by.”

“Well, she is supposed to be stopping by in a little but I don’t know if she’ll be spending the night. It depends on our talk.” Grace shrugged, tilting her head down to press a kiss to the top of Cas’. “I know you have a busy morning hanging out with your friend tomorrow so don’t stay up too late, alright?”

“I won’t, promise.” Cas replied, smiling a little bit.

Grace left the room, no doubt going to paint until Amara arrived and Cas got himself ready for bed. He lay there and let himself run over the plans for the next day until he fell asleep.

The envelope lay unopened on his desk, its contents capable of unfathomable destruction.

Chapter Text

Dean didn’t usually stay the night when he had dinner with his family every first Saturday of the month but this weekend was the exception and he was looking forward to it. The dinner had been quiet like they usually were, at least until Eileen had showed up and Mary had welcomed her with open arms. It’d been livelier after that, until the her and Sam had run off and left Dean and his mother with the dishes.

“I guarantee you they’ll be together by the end of the night.” Mary chuckled, buried up to her elbows in dishwater. “She’s been around multiple times a week for the last month. Sam claims it’s just homework and learning ASL but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“We both know that one of us going to walk past his room upstairs and see them kissing or cuddling, it’s just inevitable at this point. I was the same way when I was his age.”

“You were worse, dear. You had a no closed bedroom door rule, your brother doesn’t.”

“Woah woah woah, I was not that bad.” Dean chuckled, protesting gently.

Mary shook her head. “Dean, don’t lie to me. We both know the truth but that’s neither here or there. Never got Lisa pregnant, thank goodness.”

“Getting her pregnant implies us having sex which really isn’t something we did, so yeah no chance that was ever happening.”

Mary nodded her head, placing the last of the rinsed dishes in the dish rack before wiping her hands on her pants. She turned to lean against the counter and face Dean, studying him. He’d kept all of his weekendly visits and monthly dinners and he was keeping up with his studies but something was different about him. He sounded happier and seemed more positive about the year but there was something holding him back, something that made him look almost more tired and aged. The mix was confusing and mildly concerning.

“So, are you going to tell your dear old mother who this new friend you’ve been hanging out with so much is? And don’t try to play it off and deny it because I know you enough to know when you’re smiling because of someone.”

“Remember the guy from the party?”

Mary nodded her head.

“Well, Cas and I have been hanging out a lot lately. It’s not like a dating thing before you ask, he’s really not ready for that right now, but we’ve been vibing as friends. He’s a little odd but he’s cool, I like him.”

“Well that’s great that you have a new friend, I’m happy for you. Is he why you’re spending the night tonight?”

“Yeah, he is. He asked if we could hang out tomorrow morning and it’s a lot closer to here than it is to campus so I figured I’d just stick around. All he told me is that I should dress warm and be prepared for walking.”

“Well that sounds like it would nice. He probably just wants to check out some of the shops.”

Dean shook his head, unable to stop the laugh that escaped. “Maybe but this is the guy who asked me if I’d help him look through a cemetery in the first real conversation we’d actually had so I’m not too sure.”

Mary raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. She knew the kinds of things Dean and his friends got up to and while they were a little impulsive, they didn’t involve cemeteries. This new friend, though she suspected it was more than an average friendship, was nothing like anyone else. She tried to keep her curiosity in check, shifting on the balls of her feet.

“Well he certainly sounds like an interesting guy, I won’t lie. If you’re not too afraid of me embarrassing you, I’d love to have him over lunch.”

“I’ll ask him but I make no promises.” Dean said, already knowing Cas would probably agree to it. “I’m gonna head upstairs since the dishes are done. I know you want your decompression time and I also really need to get this fluid mechanics assignment done for Monday.”

“Love you kiddo, sleep well.”

“Love you too, mom.”

With that, Dean took his leave and headed upstairs. He knew the stairs well and knew exactly which wooden step would creak so he stepped over it, trying to keep his presence unknown. There was no doubt in his head that Sam and Eileen were finally doing more than talking and he really didn’t want to be the one to interrupt that. He stepped upstairs and heard the first hushed voice, pausing for a moment.

“I don’t understand how you’re such a loud person and you’re the one who can hear.”

Dean knew that was Eileen and he held back a laugh, taking a few steps forward. He knew he shouldn’t invade their privacy but then he heard Sam talk and he knew he had to.

“It’s not my fault you know what you’re doing and it’s fine. Dean’s going back to school and mom won’t be upstairs for a while.”

Dean took another step, purposefully stepping on a board he knew was creaky. There was a sudden creaking of bedsprings, Sam clearly swearing under his breath, and then Dean was peeking into Sam’s room.

Sam looked startled, eyes wide and chest heaving. Eileen, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised in the slightest. She hadn’t tried to hide that her shirt was fully unbuttoned or that she had very clearly been on top of Sam moments prior, simply choosing to grin at Dean.

“It’s about time one of you two made a move.” Dean said, hands moving in asl as they usually did when he talked with Eileen. “Be safe, Sammy, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Sam was bright red and shook his head. “Dean, get out.”

“I’m leaving, relax. You’ve got a couple hours and I’ve got headphones, have fun kids.”

Dean saw Eileen’s thumbs up just before he closed the door, retreating to his room. He was happy for the pair and was smart enough to put his headphones on as he stretched out in his bed, letting his mind wander. It wandered to Cas, as it so often did, and Dean fell asleep dreaming of him yet again.

~

Dean’s body was changing and it terrified him.

It was simple at first: nights of tossing and turning because of the dreams that set his body on fire but it had quickly grown. The tossing and turning was quickly becoming a nap a day if he wanted to function and even then, the tiredness was so bone deep he didn’t think he’d be rid of it. None of that even touched the permanent headache that had taken up residence behind his eyes. Coffee made it worse, fluorescent light made him want to gouge his eyes out, and none of that even touched what happened when the weather turned rainy. Something was wrong but Dean didn’t have the time to address it. Even if he did, it was probably just stress.

It came as no surprise to Dean when he woke up with a splitting headache, shoving his face into the pillow with a groan. Of course he’d have a headache the one time Cas had planned a hangout without any prompting. Dean wasn’t going to let that stop him though and he pulled himself from bed to get ready. A hot shower, a brush of his teeth, and a skincare routine later and Dean felt slightly more human. The weather was decent for late fall and Dean reached for his favourite flannel and jeans, deciding last minute to switch things up. He kept the jeans but went for a comfortable sweater, a dark knit with a fun bright pattern on it.

There was a knock on his door as Dean sat down to grab a pair of his socks and he glanced up, seeing Sam at his door.

“Why are you so dressed up?” Sam asked as he shuffled in, plunking down on the bed beside Dean.

“Going out with a friend. You need something?”

“Like a friend or a friend?”

“Just a friend so don’t get your hopes up that I’m going to have some cool new partner that you can impress with your ivy league smarts.” Dean shrugged. “Glad to see you and Eileen finally getting together, sorry about last night.”

“I uh actually came to say thanks for being cool last night and not ratting us out. I know mom probably doesn’t care about all of that stuff but still, I really don’t need her suddenly grilling me about all that.”

Dean shook his head, chuckling a bit. “Oh she already knows you two are doing shit, she’s not blind. She knew when I started too and guarantee I was a lot worse.”

Sam flushed red again, shaking his head. He was still embarrassed that him and Eileen had been caught and it was embarrassing to talk about it at all but he couldn’t exactly talk to his dad about all of it either. That left Dean and Dean, while sometimes going too far, was still decent enough to talk to.

“Well thanks for being worse then. Anyway, I’m gonna leave because I’m hungry and I can smell the bacon already. Have fun hanging out with your friend.”

Dean smiled, pulled his socks on, and then followed Sam down the stairs. He made sure to talk to his mom before he pulled on his boots and headed out the door. All Cas had done was text him the address so that’s where Dean headed, scanning his surroundings to figure out what was going on.

There were tables, stalls, and tents as far as the eye could see on either side of Dean and the walkway in the middle was flooded with people milling about. He could smell something spicy in the air, floating atop the cool fall breeze, and it intrigued him. A sign on the left told him that it was a farmer’s market and it all clicked into place, Dean’s mood lightening slightly. He tried to find Cas and couldn’t seem to until he heard the boy’s voice, turning around.

“Dean, hey!” Cas called, hurrying through the crowd.

Dean saw the slacks and the comfortable looking sweater but was caught off guard by everything else. Cas had tried to style his hair and very evidently had consulted with Thea on what to wear, the beige trench coat moving around him of very keen interest. The jacket fit Cas well and Dean swallowed hard, concerned by how much it was actually doing for him. It would look great on his floor and Dean was red-faced at the thought.

Cas stopped in front of Dean, bright faced and smiling. His eyes scanned over Dean’s outfit, lingering over the tight fit of the arms before settling on the pattern.

“Do you- is that Mothman on your sweater?”

Dean chewed his lip, nodding. “Yeah, it is. The boys and I kind of all have sweaters with cryptids on them but I told them that Mothman was mine. I uh, your jacket is really cool. It’s very Colombo.”

“Wasn’t sure what the weather would be like so I figured I’d bring it in case. Glad you found the place though because I wasn’t sure if I should’ve offered you a ride or not.”

“I’m only like a ten minute walk down the road so you’re fine either way. I’ve been meaning to check this place out but haven’t had the time so thanks for organizing this.”

Cas shrugged, offering Dean a smile in response. He was itching to get in and explore everything but Dean didn’t seem like he was moving quick enough and Cas didn’t want them to get lost. The action was unconscious as Cas reached out, twining his fingers with Dean’s. His hand was warm and Cas could see the heat rising in Dean’s face.

“Just so we don’t lose each other. I like my friends close and untrampled.”

All Dean could do was nod his head and follow along as Cas started walking. He’d held hands before, it was practically dating 101, but this felt different. Lisa, when she was affectionate, had had slim hands so cold Dean swore he could feel his fingers freezing but Cas’ weren’t like that. His hand was bigger but it was warmer too, a comfortable weight in Dean’s own hand. He could feel the looks for passerby as they walked but he didn’t care and Cas didn’t look like he cared either.

“I remember you telling me that you were supposed to have dinner with your mom, brother, and his fiancé last night. How was that?”

“Kind of good but also a disaster.” Cas sighed, stepping closer to Dean to avoid barreling over a small child.

“Well I’m all ears so vent if you want.”

“My brother cancelled but his fiancé still showed up and you’ll remember it’s Rowena so that means we were entertained at least. My mom’s partner was supposed to maybe show up but then there was a work dinner involved and a fight that they’re kind of lying about but that doesn’t really. She didn’t show up, that’s what I’m trying to say, and mom was a little upset about it. Whole thing went right off the rails when Rowena read our tea leaves.”

Dean paused, eyebrow raised. “She read them, like for free? Must really love your family. You get a bad reading or something?”

“No, mine was totally fine. They shooed me out when she read my mom’s though so I don’t think the reading was good. Doesn’t matter though because I’ve got my own little side project going right now. You remember that woman I was trying to find?”

“I remember the cemetery I had to search through, yeah. Why, you manage to find her?”

“Oh goodness no. Rowena did digging and said she literally doesn’t exist anywhere but she’s gonna keep looking for it. I did find a letter up in my attic though. Not sure who it was for but it’s got half a name and I have half a clue so I’m doing more digging.”

“You really love digging around all of that old history stuff, it’s sweet.” Dean smiled. “Did you drag me out here just so you could see Rowena at the end and pawn the letter off on her?”

Cas shook his head, stopping in front of the first stand on their left. It was a simple table chock full of baked goods, mountains of scones competing with pies and everything in between.

“No, not entirely.” He chuckled, gesturing to one of the pies to ask for two slices. “Yeah I want to talk to Rowena but I also thought this would just be something fun to do. There’s so many cool local vendors and they’re all so nice.”

“You bought me pie so I’m content.” Dean said, happy to accept his slice of what he assumed was cherry pie.

“You’re so easy to please, it’s handy.”

Dean chose to ignore the comment and chow down on the pie, pleased with the flavour. It wasn’t too sweet but wasn’t bitter or tart either. He wiped his hand on his pants before the pair continued on.

The horror movie hangouts had been Dean’s element and he had been more than happy to carry the bulk of their conversations but here he was utterly lost; thankfully, Cas seemed to shine. He knew almost all the vendors and if he didn’t know them, he was quick to strike up a conversation about their goods or wares. Cas knew more about tea than Dean thought possible, apparently had an extensive knowledge on flowers, and seemed incredibly particular about what went into his baked goods.

Dean knew how much he liked Cas but this put the other boy in a whole new light. There was a lightness in him, a shine in his eye that Dean had never seen before and it was addicting. Cas was animated and excited and Dean found himself hanging on every word, paying almost as much attention to them as he was to Cas’ face. Dean couldn’t forget the hand in his the entire time they walked, heart beating in his throat. It was an innocent gesture and it made Dean hate the fact their relationship was in the gray of “friendship”.

“How do you know all of these people? And how on earth do you know so much about tea and flowers?” Dean asked, finally able to get a word in edge-wise once they had reached the end of the left side of vendors.

Cas stopped and blinked out of his informational trance before he flushed. “Was I talking that much? I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You’ve sat through at least two of my horror movie rants and besides, I really like hearing you talk. I had no idea there were so many kinds of wildflowers and I didn’t know that much about tea either.”

“I’m your guy if you like that stuff.” Cas shrugged, finally taking a breath. “The right side is a lot of the craft vendors, not so much baked goods or teas. They all know me and my mom, she used to have a stand here when I was kid.”

“Was that before or after your mom had her gay awakening?”

“How do you know she had a gay awakening?”

“Because you told me like 40 minutes ago that she was upset her partner didn’t come to the dinner and you said that her partner was a she. You also talked about the split and I sort of maybe assumed which I shouldn’t have done but oh well.”

“Right. Well, this was sort of during and after I guess. It’s very complicated.”

Dean shook his head, chuckling. “Gay awakenings always are, mine definitely was. But moving on and thank you for bringing up your mom because it reminded me of something. Mine wanted to know if you wanted to come over for lunch.”

“Your mom wants me to come over for lunch?”

“She does. Apparently she’s noticed how much we hang out and I think she’s curious about you, thinks you’re not like my other friends.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, genuinely contemplating the offer. He’d been curious about Dean’s family for a while, especially knowing what Dean had shared about them. His mom seemed like a fun but generally no nonsense woman and his brother sounded like a smart but slightly shy kid, something Cas could relate a little too well to. The family dynamic sounded like it was nice and Cas was never one to be rude and turn down an offer from someone older than him.

“I’d like that, so definitely. You talk a lot about your family and they seem cool. Bet your mom will pull out the embarrassing baby photos to show me.”

“In your dreams, Novak.” Dean mumbled, playfully elbowing Cas.

“More like in your nightmares.”

Dean paused again, clearly impressed with the rebuttal. Cas was quickly becoming more outspoken and a little sassier, something Dean didn’t mind at all. He smiled at Cas again before leading the pair of them to the other side of the farmer’s market.

The pair walked the market for a little while, Cas stopping every so often to talk to a vendor that he remembered or really liked. At first it was a pair of women running a jewelry business and Cas was happy to catch up with them, spending a few minutes talking about their daughter’s upcoming musical while Dean fiddled around with some of the gemstone bracelets. The second was a middle-aged man with an affinity for wood carving, something that Dean was incredibly interested in. He took over the conversation for that one, only leaving when Cas pulled him away.

At the end of their craft walk foray, the pair came upon Rowena like they were expecting. She was in a pair of patchwork overalls and a lacy shirt, her hair piled into a ponytail to keep it out of her face as she typed away on her laptop. When she heard the pair approach, she glanced up and smiled brightly.

“Oh Castiel, so nice to see you again.” She beamed, turning slightly to run her eyes over Dean. “Who’s your handsome friend here?”

“Name’s Dean. I’ve been in your shop a few times with Thea, not in a while though.” Dean said, extending a hand to shake Rowena’s.

Rowena shook back, shooting Cas a knowing look. They both knew what the d in the tea leaves had met and Rowena was impressed with what she was seeing. What she wasn’t impressed with, however, was the feeling she got the moment she shook Dean’s hand. An icy cold shocked her immediately but a darkness seemed to seep in afterwards, the energy almost draining her the longer she held onto his hand. She let go and when she did, she had to shake off the feeling that something was incredibly wrong with Dean.

“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Dean. Can I interest you in anything here in my stall?”

Dean shook his head. “I’m alright, thanks though. Cas has something he wants to talk about with you though.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean before letting go of his hand, reaching into his pocket to produce the envelope and enclosed letter he had found. He set it on the booth before pulling out the bag he had placed the stamp in. Rowena took the letter and the bag, scanning over it for a good while before glancing back up at Cas.

“What’s this?”

“I found it in my attic yesterday tucked away in the bottom of an old steamer trunk. It looks pretty old and I’m pretty sure it has to do with my mom.”

“Oh so Rowena’s in on the insanity that is looking through a cemetery. That’s fun.” Dean mumbled, shutting his mouth when both Rowena and Cas shot him an irritated look.

“Well this doesn’t look like much so I’m not entirely sure what you want me to look for here, Cas. Still can’t bake a cake if I don’t have all the ingredients.”

“The stamp’s from like 40 years ago and when I looked at the envelope, the mailing address sort of kind of looks like it might be in state. You can see the sender’s first name too and I obviously didn’t open the envelope, didn’t want to risk destroying anything in there by messing it up. I was hoping that if you somehow had time that you could open the letter and maybe figure out what’s going on.”

“You’re sure you want me to dig into this?” she reiterated, gently tucking the envelope and stamp into her bag.

“Yeah, I do. I know this has something to do with my mom and all the stuff going on and I really want answers.”

“I’ll let you know what I find then but it’ll take some time. That okay with you?”

Cas nodded his head, leaning back on the balls of his feet. “Thank you.”

Rowena offered one final smile at the pair before she turned away to greet another customer. Dean held out his hand, heart beating up into his throat with anxiety, and it only beat harder when he felt Cas take it. They finished their tour of the market and then Dean was leading them out onto the sidewalk, stopping there.

“Did you drive here? My place isn’t far but I don’t want to make you walk there and then walk all the way back here just to get into your car and drive home.”

“Nope, just walked. I’m like fifteen down the road in the opposite direction so didn’t really feel like driving.” Cas shrugged.

Satisfied with the answer, Dean started walking again. The walk was silent but it was comfortable, both of them content to just be there. Dean was pleased that they had hung out and was still reeling from the handholding. The simple gesture had been enough to knock the breath from his lungs and he hated it. He just hoped Cas hadn’t noticed how his hands never seemed to warm.

Cas, on the other hand, didn’t have a single thought concerning the handholding or even what he and Dean were doing. He was too busy mulling over the mysteries slowly revealing themselves to him. They were a lot, made worse by the knowledge that the women in his life were absolutely and knowingly hiding something important from him. At least Dean wasn’t hiding things, Cas hoped anyway.

“So, I should probably let you know that my mom knows a little more about us than I meant to tell her.” Dean mumbled as the pair stopped in front of his house. “She kinda knows about the party and stuff but I made sure she knows we’re just friends.”

Neither Cas nor Dean saw the wince the other let out at the word “friends”.

“Well my mom knows about that too so I guess we’re on equal footing.”

Dean shrugged before opening the door and welcoming Cas inside. The entryway was simple but Cas barely had time to take any of it in, too busy watching Dean’s younger brother come bounding down the stairs. Cas had heard a million things about Sam but nothing could have prepared him for the fact he had to look up to see him. Sam stopped at the foot of the stairs, eyeing Cas for a minute.

“I thought you’d be taller.”

“And I thought you’d be shorter.” Cas replied nonchalantly. “I’m Cas.”

“I’m Sam.”

Cas nodded his head, taking another chance to look at Sam. He could see the way Sam was bending over to appear smaller, almost ashamed and awkward with his height and how it made him look. Sam’s hair was longer too but it was nice and Cas resisted the urge to turn to Dean and tease him about his own hair.

“Dean tells me you want to go into law, that’s pretty cool. You got an ivy league picked out yet?”

Sam grinned. “Stanford. I’ve got my application filled out already, just gotta write my SATs and I’m sure I’ll get in.”

“I’ve got an older brother who went to Stanford and he really liked it. We don’t talk much but I’ll see if I can get him to give you a call sometime.”

“No way Gabriel went to Stanford, not after everything you’ve told me about him.” Dean mumbled.

Cas shook his head. “Michael went, he’s the second oldest. He’s an asshole though.”

“Oh, fun. Now I know about two of your brothers, only four more to go. Now come on, my mom’s probably chomping at the bit she’s so excited to meet you.”

Cas followed Sam and Dean into the kitchen, anxiety beginning to ripple in his stomach. Dean had said that his mom was relaxed and not all that high strung but that did little to ease anything. He’d never been good meeting anyone’s parents and knowing that he liked Dean and wanted to impress his mom only made that worse.

Dean’s mom wasn’t at all what Cas had expected. She was blonde, for one, and neither of her sons were, but she was taller than expected and when she turned around Cas found himself even more surprised. She looked kind, a little weary, but like someone who knew what people were like and chose to believe in optimism and positivity anyway.

“Oh goodness, you’re back earlier than I was expecting.” She hummed, leaning back against the counter.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Anyways, this is-“

“Cas, right? I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Mary interrupted, holding out her hand. “I’m usually a hugger but I don’t know how you feel about those.”

Cas shook her hand, taken aback by how firm her grip was until he remembered that she was nurse.

“It’s really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Winchester.”

She smiled and let go of Cas’ hand, turning back the counter. “You can just call me Mary, I don’t mind. You’re not allergic to anything, are you dear?”

Cas shook his head, following Sam and Dean to the table and taking a seat. He wasn’t sure what to expect for lunch but it certainly wasn’t a sandwich that looked like it had been made with fresh bread and was still warm on the plate. Mary set the plates down before she took a seat at the end of the table.

“Perfect. This is a staple for us in the fall, it’s turkey with swiss cheese and pear preserve on fresh sourdough. I sometimes think Dean only comes to visit just so he can eat.” She chuckled.

“With how much I’ve seen him pack away, I wouldn’t be surprised by that.”

Dean knew Cas was teasing but rolled his eyes anyway, perfectly content to sit and eat his sandwich. He found he didn’t have to say much because Mary was doing more than enough talking, asking Cas basic level questions about himself and his life. Cas didn’t seem to mind though and Dean relaxed as he watched the pair strike up a friendly conversation as if Dean and Sam weren’t even there.

Dean stood up to get started on the dishes but paused immediately as black dots swarmed his vision. It felt like someone had flooded his head and vision with tv static. The room swam for a moment before he was able to right himself quickly hurrying to the sink.

“What was that?” Sam asked, grabbing a dish towel.

“What was what?”

“That glitch in the matrix pause you and I both know you just experienced. And I will tell mom if you lie to me so don’t.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Just stood up too fast, not a big deal. Probably just not sleeping enough.”

“Yeah cause you’re too busy making ‘fuck me’ eyes at Cas. He’s been doing the same, it’s gross.”

Sam sidestepped as soon as he saw Dean move his hand to flick water at him, turning to hit him with the dish towel.

“I have not been making 'fuck me' eyes at Cas.” Dean protested. “You’ve known the guy for a whole forty-five minutes, no fucking way you saw him make eyes at me.”

“I’ve spent the last four years doing that with Eileen, I know exactly what those looks mean and neither of you are slick. You’ve been on like six hangouts and he’s meeting mom, you are down so bad for him. You don’t do nerdy people, Dean, and Cas is nerdy. So find an excuse and just do him already.”

Dean flushed red but didn’t respond, turning back to face the dishes and finish them. Cas was still busy chatting with Mary and she smiled, having overheard part of Dean’s conversation and formed her own observations. The pair were close and despite Dean’s obvious protests and reservations, Mary had been around long enough to learn a thing or two.

“I think my son is quite taken with you,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t usually get so talkative about people he knows and he certainly doesn’t bring them around so quickly.”

“I don’t know, he does talk about Charlie a lot.”

Mary chuckled, shaking her head. “Those two have been friends for years but it took him almost a year to bring her around and he certainly didn’t look at her like he looks at you.”

“We’re just really good friends, that’s all. Friends who’ve maybe kissed and kind of sort of cuddle and oh God, I’ve totally been leading him on.”

Cas felt mortified as the realization hit him. It wasn’t so much a slap to the face as it was the final string of denial snapping. He’d always known things between them were past friendship but not into dating but maybe it was dating. Their relationship was certainly emotionally connected and romance could be reasonably argued. Hell, they had the physical contact sans sex and that didn’t feel strictly platonic.

“My son is a lot of things: hardworking, a little goofy, and sweet but he’s not one to be forceful or push things. I don’t know everything but he’s probably doing his best to be respectful if you don’t want a relationship.”

Cas swallowed hard, glancing down at the table. Here was Dean’s mother, a woman he’d just met that he got along well with, giving him advice. At this point he had three mothers and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

“What do you think would happen if I changed my mind and I did want one?”

“He’d be thrilled, for one. Dean has always been one to fall in love quickly, a bit of a hopeless romantic really. I imagine he’d want to talk about the change, really get things solidified.”

“Do you think he’d be the one to make the first move?”

Cas waited with bated breath, mind swirling with the thoughts that maybe he did want a relationship. It didn’t matter that everything in his life felt like complete chaos because it didn’t feel like that when he was with Dean. Being with Dean was a welcome peace in the storm. He watched Mary shake her head and his hopes fell slightly.

“If you’ve told him that you aren’t ready already then no, I don’t think he will. If you make any kind of move that shows interest in a clear way then I think he may make a move.”

Cas thought about responding and started to but was interrupted before he could finish, Dean sliding into the chair next to him. Dean scooted the chair close, thigh to thigh with Cas, and turned his head to grin at Cas.

“Whatcha talking about?”

“Nothing important but I was just about to bring up Ellen’s annual Halloween party.” Mary said, quick to smooth over anything she had talked about with Cas.

“Right, almost forgot about that.” Dean said, turning to Cas. “My Aunt Ellen, well she isn’t really my aunt but she also kind of is, has this bar in town and she throws this crazy Halloween party every year. Everyone in the friend group is finally old enough to go and actually drink so we were gonna go.”

“Oh, that’s kind of cool.” Cas said. “Is it just you and your friends going?”

“Well me and the boys and then Charlie and Thea. Also you, if you want to come that is.”

“I’d love to.”

Dean grinned, clapping his hands together. “Great, it’s settled then! Come to my dorm at like 6 on Halloween and we can go from there. Bring drinks if you want and don’t forget your costume.”

Cas seemed excited by the prospect that he was doing something fun not just with Dean, but with all of his friends too. It felt like things were slowly turning up better and when Cas felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he knew that it was time to leave.

“I think I just got a text from my mom or my brother so I should probably get going.” He said as he stood up. “Thanks for hanging out and thank you for lunch, Mary. It was fantastic.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to come over any time you’d like, I would love to have you back.”

Cas smiled back at her and waited for Dean to get up, heading to the door with him.

Now that they were finally somewhat alone, Cas could feel his heart beginning to race again. He’d spent all morning with Dean, held his hand, and met his mother; it had been a dream and a chance to figure out a few things in his head. Cas thought about trying to make a move but shied away from it.

“Your family’s really nice, Dean, and I really like your mom. Thanks for hanging out and thanks for lunch.”

“Any time, you know I love hanging out.” Dean smiled, chewing his lip. “You’re sure you’re down for Halloween? You don’t have to accept if you really don’t want to. It’s gonna be a lot of drinking and my friends can be a lot when they’re sober but it’s worse when they’re drunk.”

“I promise that I want to come. Besides, everyone in my life is always saying I need to go out and do more things anyway. So I’ll see you then.”

“See you then Cas.”

There was one final exchange of smiles and then Cas was walking away, wondering what he was supposed to do for a costume.

Chapter Text

“On God I swear that I am not fucking with you. He has a thing for cowboys.”

Cas and Thea had been together all day as they walked the halls of the local mall, trading stories and banter as they browsed. The banter was simple, mostly catch up about work and classes but it had shifted when they’d stopped at the food court for lunch. Thea had grabbed a falafel wrap from one of the Mediterranean shops and Cas had grabbed a poutine, intrigued by the concept as a whole.

“There is no way that he likes cowboys.” Cas mumbled, digging a fork into the pile of fries. “Horror movies and Scooby Doo, sure, but cowboys seems questionable.”

“The man grew up watching old westerns with his uncle according to Charlie and then there’s the entire thing Larry thing that he does too.”

“The Larry thing?”

Thea grinned over her food, a wicked knowing grin that she only had when she knew something that someone was going to find very interesting. She’d been fighting with Cas over what to dress as for the entire day but that fight was quickly coming to an end.

“There’s a mechanical bull they bring out in his aunt’s bar on special occasions and Dean loves that thing. They call it Larry and honestly I think he holds like the record for staying on it the longest.”

“And that has to do with him liking cowboys how?”

“He likes riding the bull and that is such a cowboy thing.” Thea said. “Look dude, I have never once steered you wrong with anything when it comes to Dean and I won’t do that now. I’d very much like to get the pair of you to pound town so you can both stop whining about everything.”

“I am not whining. I’m just hesitant, that’s all.”

“Call it what you like but I’ve seen what I’ve seen. So trust me on this and get the cowboy costume. Hurry up while you’re at it too, we have to get ready before we head over to Dean’s.”

Cas didn’t bother responding, turning back to his poutine to finish it. He knew that Thea was correct and knew better than to argue with her, choosing instead to go along with her. They headed towards the Halloween shop that popped up every year in the same store and Cas’ anxiety was spiking again.

His father had never let them celebrate Halloween so in his twenty one years of living, Cas had never done anything. He’d never dressed up, never gone trick or treating, and he had certainly never gone out to a bar dressed up. It had always seemed so fun, at least in the movies he’d watched and the stories he heard, and Cas was looking forward to trying something new.

“So, you never told me exactly what you’re dressing up as. Are you and Charlie doing a couple’s costume?” he asked.

“Oh god no, I hate them. I’m doing my own thing but her and Dean are doing a couple’s costume so that should be interesting.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, wary of what he’d just heard. He hadn’t been around Charlie a lot but every time he had, she had been nothing but a tornado of chaos. It was terrifying and refreshing. He had no idea what Dean wanted to dress up as but was more than curious.

“Can I get a hint about what they’re dressing up as?’

“Nope, sorry. I don’t even know what they’re dressing up as.”

Cas frowned. “Damn, that’s disappointing but I’ve got my costume so let’s go.”

~

“Come out of the bathroom already, we want to know if Charlie fucked up your hair.” Benny said, stretched out on a beanbag chair with a beer in his hand.

He and Lee, dressed up as a vampire and Han Solo respectively, had been ready and drinking exactly for six. Charlie had been there since noon but her and Dean had been tucked away in his bathroom, chatting among themselves as Dean left his hair in her hands. The boys had no idea what the pair were doing but Lee swore up and down that he had seen bleach and toner.

Charlie stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Give us a little bit. His hair is fine, it’s not fucked up but his makeup might be. Thea and Cas are gonna be here soon so one of you needs to get off your ass and open the door.”

“Yes ma’am.” Lee chuckled as he pulled himself from one of the other chairs, heading out into the kitchen to wait.

He didn’t have to wait long and he pulled the door open when he heard the knock. Lee let them in, closing the door behind him before taking a look at them. He knew Thea relatively well and smiled at her, taking in her costume with an approving nod.

“You’ve got the height and the bust to play Xena, well done.” He hummed.

“Thanks, you’re not too bad as Han yourself.” She replied, stepping aside to reveal Cas. “This is Cas. He’s my best friend so be nice or you know exactly where my steel toes will go.”

Lee took a good long look at Cas and the costume he was wearing, nodding his head. “Dean’ll like that, well done. I’m Lee by the way.”

“He calls you Billy Ray Cyrus and I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little accurate.” Cas noted, trying not to laugh. Lee sounded like a cool guy whenever Dean had described him and It was accurate enough. Of course Cas wasn’t about to share that he knew Dean and Lee had been closer than friends at one point but it lingered in the back of his mind.

Lee rolled his eyes before turning on his heels and heading back to Dean’s room, Thea pulling Cas toward it too. Benny didn’t get up from the beanbag when everyone entered but he did shift, glancing up at Cas with a welcoming smile.

“You’re Dean’s new friend then, welcome. I’m Benny and you’ve clearly met my boyfriend, Lee. Your boytoy’s in the bathroom with Charlie, been in there forever.”

The bathroom door opened and Charlie stepped out, all dolled up in full Chucky splendor. Her hair had been teased and the makeup applied with all the grace of someone who rarely wore makeup of any kind. She shuffled out of the bathroom and over to Thea, leaning up on her toes to kiss her girlfriend before looking at Cas.

“Been a while, welcome back. I like the costume, it’s fun. Dean’s gonna love it.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.” Cas mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He was quickly becoming more nervous with all of the people he didn’t know very well and just wanted to see Dean.

“I take it Dean needs my makeup expertise so I’ll be back in a bit.” Thea said before she vanished into the bathroom, door closing behind her.

That left Cas alone with all of Dean’s friends and he very awkwardly lowered himself into the remaining empty chair, legs folded up onto the chair. Everyone seemed like they were already drinking and Cas didn’t even have to ask for a drink because Charlie was handing him one.

“Don’t feel like you have to drink with us if you don’t want to. Thea’s gonna DD for us tonight so don’t worry about that either. If you do want to drink, it’s mostly like fruity coolers here but Dean could probably whip up a mixed drink if you want something stronger.”

“I really haven’t done a lot of drinking so I think I’ll just stick with coolers.” Cas said, grateful that Charlie was doing her best to make him feel welcome and make sure he wasn’t pressured. “You’re clearly Chucky and Thea said that you and Dean are doing a couples costume so now I need to know who he’s gonna be.”

The bathroom door swung open and Thea exited, grinning. “I’d like to introduce everyone to Ms. Tiffany Valentine.”

Dean stepped out of the bathroom and Cas nearly lost his mind.

His hair wasn’t just bleached blonde, it was bleached to the point of an ashy white and Dean had let it grow for a while so the length curled around his ears. The makeup was something else, the pencil thin eyebrows and the lipstick combo bringing out the green of his eyes. None of that mattered to Cas, not when he saw Dean’s outfit. He was in a dress, a short white dress and Cas thought his eyes were going to bulge out of his head when he clued into the leather jacket and the fishnets.

Similar to Cas, Dean hadn’t been prepared for what Cas was wearing and didn’t know what to say. He saw the jeans and the chaps and even the hat but that didn’t really matter because Dean was too busy staring at Cas’ shirt. It was a loose denim and tied at the bottom, the rest of it unbuttoned and revealing his chest. Cas wouldn’t have been caught dead in that a few months ago but he was now and Dean wasn’t complaining.

They stared at each other for a good few minutes before Dean was able to move, pulling a camping chair out so he could sit down next to Cas.

“Please tell me that you’re wearing heeled boots with this costume.” Lee mumbled, staring along with everyone else.

“Platform boots, yeah. They’re like four inches so I’m finally gonna be 6’5.”

“I’m a little more concerned about how short that dress is. Please tell me you’ve got shorts on under there.” Benny said, keeping his gaze level so he didn’t see more than he was supposed to.

“Volleyball up the ass level shorts but yeah, still shorts.”

“Great! Now that that’s sorted, I say we start drinking. Love your aunt but her drinks aren’t cheap.” Charlie said, taking a seat on Thea’s lap after grabbing a tumbler filled with alcohol.

Dean shrugged and picked up his own drink, a mixed drink that was dark enough to concern Cas. He didn’t know a lot about drinks but he knew that something that dark probably wasn’t going to be good for anybody consuming it. Neither of them had spoken to each other yet, Cas too intimidated by everything going on. Dean broke the silence first.

“So, Cas,” he began, still sipping at his drink, “Why the cowboy costume of all things? M’not complaining but I’m curious.”

“Thea suggested it and I said sure why not.”

Dean nodded and mouthed a very quick ‘thank you’ at her before addressing the group.

“We all know my aunt opens her bar at for all the Halloween stuff at nine and I know we normally show up at nine but she’s gonna save us a table so we don’t have to go so early. Figure we can just chill and play some drinking games until we feel like leaving.”

“Can we play something that’s going to get us drunk fast because I really don’t think I like the taste of whatever this is.” Cas said, gesturing to the vodka soda he was working his way through.

“I was going to say never have I ever but all that’s going to do is get Dean drunker than the rest of us very quickly.” Lee said, climbing off of Benny’s lap to grab another drink.

“We all know that you like to see me drunk when Larry comes out so I say we do it. We’ll get you drunk too Cas, don’t worry. I’ll pour it down your throat if it comes down to it.”

Cas’ eyes widened but he said nothing, choosing instead to try and finish off his drink. It was harder to see how red his face was behind the can but he knew everyone else was probably aware of it. He wasn’t exactly doing a good job of hiding it.

With the game decided, it was time for the questions. They were all pretty general for the first couple rounds, mostly concerning pets or families or even favourite colours and Cas even drank a few times. He’d finished a drink and a half by the time mostly everyone had five fingers or less and stood to stretch, the alcohol hitting him full force. It him square in the head, his vision swimming and his limbs tingling with warmth. There was a sudden hand on the small of his back and he didn’t even have to check to know that it was Dean’s.

“Woah Cas, take a minute to adjust.” He chuckled, keeping his hand there. “You don’t really drink so you’re probably not used to how tingly you’re feeling.”

Cas nodded before deciding he wanted to sit on the edge of Dean’s chair, the solid cushion in his side a welcome support. He didn’t particularly care that he was encroaching on Dean’s space, sliding his arm out to stretch across the back of the chair.

“I’ve got a good one, guaranteed three of you drink.” Thea grinned. “Never have I ever slept with Dean Winchester.”

The room collectively rolled their eyes, the boys and Charlie all taking sips. Cas wasn’t surprised, Dean had been upfront about that on multiple occasions, but he still felt a little bloom of jealousy. He was trying to deal with his feelings head on and he was quite certain that sleeping with Dean Winchester would either solidify them or make them vanish completely; unfortunately, that meant he had to make the first move.

“I’ve been telling all of you that I’ve got game for years.” Dean grinned. “Can’t help that I’m irresistible.”

Cas rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit he was a little charmed by Dean’s confidence. “I’ve resisted so far so I don’t think that’s entirely true.” 

“I could pull you if I wanted to.”  Dean protested.

“In your dreams, Winchester.”

Dean’s retort died in his throat and he flushed redder than he thought possible, feeling a bit like a child caught red handed taking from the cookie jar. There was no way that Cas knew about his dreams but he could see his friends faces and he knew they knew. Thankfully for him, they moved on.

The group ended up ordering a pizza to share and by the time they had devoured it, Cas was two full drinks in and feeling good. He’d been chatting with Benny and Lee and the pair had been spilling some little secrets on Dean in the form of embarrassing stories about his many mishaps in their apartment and in their classes. Cas wasn’t sure if it was how accepting the group was or if it was the alcohol, but either way he was feeling pretty good when they finally left.

Cas was squished between Dean and the car door when everyone piled into Thea’s car but he didn’t mind, shifting slightly before deciding he was going to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna ask this once and then leave it alone but why are you the one dressed as Tiffany? Charlie’s clearly got the red hair but that can’t be the only reason she’s Chucky.”

“She didn’t want to wear a dress and I have better tits than she does. Simple as that.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you don’t have tits, Dean.”

“Oh come on, they’re the only real thing about me.” He grinned. “Give 'em a feel, promise I’m right.”

Cas hesitated for a second before he reached over, very awkwardly giving Dean a squeeze. The other boy hadn’t lied, there was solid flesh under Cas’ hand and it surprised him. It was mostly muscle, not that Cas minded, and he kept his hand there until Thea interrupted their moment.

“Hey, no groping in the backseat. If the rest of us can keep our hands to ourselves then so can you two yahoos.”

“We’ll save the groping for the bar, sorry.” Dean mumbled, half joking as he stared straight ahead.

Cas under the influence of alcohol was nothing like the Cas he’d grown to know over the last few months. For one he was louder, not enough to be irritating but enough that he seemed more confident than shy, and there was the touchiness. He didn’t seem shy about tiny little touches, punching Dean’s arm if he teased him or the head on his shoulder or even the way he seemed to walk practically attached to Dean’s hip. Dean knew he’d be able to handle that but Cas’ flirting, if that’s what it was, was something else entirely.

The bar was packed full by the time the group got in but a table had been reserved for them and Dean led his group to it, thankful it was tucked in a back corner away from the dancefloor. Dozens of drunk people in costumes danced, drinks held high, and those who weren’t dancing looked like they wanted to be.

“Is it always this loud?” Cas asked, leaning in so the group could hear him.

“Only on big holidays, Halloween and valentine’s day mostly.” Dean replied. “I’m getting us shots, any objections?”

With no objections from anyone, Dean was slipping away from the table and for the first time that night Cas felt like he could breathe. He was still buzzed and with the newfound boldness accompanying it, he turned to the group. They didn’t seem surprised that Cas was finally speaking up.

“Please tell me you want to bone him because dear God you two are painful to watch.” Thea mumbled.

“Well I’m sorry that someone convinced Dean to wear a skimpy dress in front of the sexually repressed ex-Catholic and then expected said ex-Catholic to be able to make the first move. I may be buzzed but doesn’t mean I’m brave.”

“I’m not apologizing for convincing him to do that just like I know Thea’s not sorry for getting you to dress as a cowboy. Like hello dude, Dean has not been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He folds like a house of fucking cards.”

“Charlie, the idiot’s not going to do anything unless a move gets made first. We all know how he is, especially when that friend label technically still exists.” Benny sighed.

“If Cas doesn’t wanna make the first move and Dean won’t then all we have to do is help it along. Push em together on the dance floor and get one of Dean’s impossible to resist dance sings on and that’s all it takes. It’s literally not that complicated, don’t be stupid about it.”

“Kay cool Lee, that’s your job now. Thea and I are gonna go dance before the alcohol turns into a bathroom stall hookup. Have fun.”

With that Charlie grabbed Thea’s hand and the pair vanished into the mob on the dance floor, leaving Cas alone with the boys. Benny offered Cas a sympathetic smile, doing his best to show he knew how much it sucked without actually saying it. Lee, on the other hand, was talking a more active path.

“Dean told us you two danced at that party like two months ago so you already know how to dance. Doing that’ll get you both a little clearer about boundaries and who knows, maybe shit’ll get heavy then.”

“But what if it doesn’t? I chickened out last time and I don’t know if being drunk is gonna help this time.”

“If that doesn’t work, here’s what you’re gonna do.” Benny said as he leaned in, voice hushed slightly. “You wait until Larry comes out and when he gets up to go that’s when you grab his jacket and pull him close, close enough you’re almost touching. You’re gonna whisper in his ear, okay, tell him that you want to see how he rides. He’ll fold immediately.”

Cas nodded quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. He didn’t think it’d work but Dean was already coming back so he didn’t ask any questions, simply reaching for one of the shots and downing it. Warmth flooded him again and began to smother the anxiety again.

“Saw Charlie and Thea dancing, looks like they’re having fun.” Dean noted, sitting next to Cas. “How’s the shot, not too burny I hope?”

Cas leaned in, hands on Dean’s shoulder and head on his hands. “Not great but I don’t care.”

The music seemed to quiet as Dean’s heart roared in his ears instead, his face flushed from more than the alcohol. He was aware of how close Cas was and deeply aware of just the kinds of stares he was getting from his friends. Swallowing thickly to try and clear his head from the quickly consuming thoughts, Dean did the only thing he could really think of.

“I’m gonna go dance before I get too drunk and have to take these boots off.”

“Can I come?”

Dean grinned and slid out of his chair, grabbing Cas’ hand and pulling him over to the dance floor.  He wanted nothing more than to dance with Cas but still refused to break the boundary of friendship despite how easy it would be to do, choosing instead to just dance like he would without a partner. The heels were killing his feet but they were already attracting attention from people on the floor.

Cas was slowly psyching himself up to make a move but someone cut in front of him before he could and then she was dancing with Dean. It was dirty right from the beginning and Cas hated it immediately. He didn’t consider himself possessive in the slightest (how could he be when they weren’t even together) but the urge to possess rose up from deep in his gut, startling him. All he had to do was step in and get the girl out of the way and then just maybe he’d get something from Dean.

He felt someone’s hand on his hip and then the familiar clove-like smell of Thea’s perfume hit his nose. She was dancing with him and while Cas didn’t particularly like it, it was better than nothing.

“You look like you’re going to murder that girl.” She said, leaning in but still talking loud enough that Cas could hear. “Jealous much?”

“Can’t dance if I can’t even get close.”

“Want my help?”

Cas nodded his head, a little afraid of what Thea might do. She wasn’t usually extreme  but her measures were certainly less than subtle. He felt her pull away and then she vanished from sight, likely heading off of the dance floor. The girl was still dancing with Dean but he was looking less and less like he was enjoying it, nearly wincing when she whispered something in his ear.

His eyes finally fell on Cas who was watching and when Dean saw how displeased Cas was, he figured he could use it. Managing to break free from the girl, Dean made his way over to Cas and tipped his head down so Cas would be able to hear him speak.

“Cas, save me.” He mumbled. “Her and her crusty ass boyfriend want a third and I am so not down for that.”

It took Cas a whole four seconds to register exactly what Dean was asking him and another ten to figure out exactly what to do. He felt Dean’s hands on his shoulders and then Cas remembered exactly what he was supposed to do, sliding his own hands down Dean’s chest to rest on his hips.

Between the costume that Cas had to admit made him feel sexy (especially when Dean kept staring), the alcohol that kept his veins warm and his head foggy, and the fact that he was going out and doing things with actual friends, he was having the time of his life. Dean was still keeping his hands to himself though and Cas wasn’t having it. In a flash of genius and listening to advice he’d been given, Cas did his best to pull Dean down.

“Dean,” Cas said, lips so close to Dean’s jaw they were almost touching, “you can touch me.”

Dean seemed to short-circuit, entire body pausing for what felt like an eternity. The phrase was too familiar, a call-back to the first time they had danced together, but it had plagued his dreams too. He didn’t know if he was dreaming but Dean didn’t care, taking every opportunity he could get.

Cas couldn’t reach all the way up around Dean’s neck so he settled instead for everywhere he could reach, hands finding Dean’s chest and hips and everything except for his ass. Likewise, Dean was touching what he could, taking his opportunity to run his hands down
Cas’ bare chest. The other boy was hot in every sense of the word and Dean was itching to whisk him off of the dance floor and into the bathroom, wanting nothing but to ruin their friendship.

At some point Cas turned himself around, back to front with Dean. He could feel the hard line of Dean’s chest and as he swayed to the beat, Cas was slowly becoming more and more aware of just how much he didn’t want to hold back. They were out and drunk and plenty of other people were doing far worse than they were so why bother holding himself back. Cas felt Dean lean down and then he heard Dean’s voice.

“Going to the bathroom, be right back.”

Cas frowned as he felt Dean pull away, watching him vanish into the crowd. He did his best to just dance by himself, content in knowing that Dean would be back.

Dean made it into the bathroom and got himself into a stall, running his hand over his face. He’d been ill all morning and assumed the alcohol would fix it but it wasn’t. His head was spinning, not so much the good kind of spinning as it was the planning on vomiting pea soup kind. If it wasn’t his head then it was his heart pounding so hard into his throat he could barely talk and if it wasn’t that, then surely it was the dizziness that had been there all day.

“Get it together, Dean.” He mumbled to himself,

There was a creak of the door and Dean heard someone else come in, their boots as familiar as the voice that rang out.

“You in here, brother?”

Dean sighed and pulled himself from the stall, coming face to face with Benny who looked concerned. He brushed past his friend, turning the sink on to splash some cold water on his face.

“You need to pull trig and keep going?” Benny asked, leaning against the wall. “You’re not looking too hot. Plus you ran away from Cas and that had us all a little concerned.”

“I just needed a minute, okay? It’s hard to dance with him like that and not cross boundaries and then when he said I could touch him it still made everything confusing.”

“You’re both idiots, jesus.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest, ready to defend himself. Benny didn’t give him the chance though, continuing on.

“He asked us to help him make a move so you two could start doing shit because newsflash, he very clearly wants to fuck you! I’ve known the guy for literally half a day and even I can see that you two are falling all over each other. So please, for the love of God, take his letting him touch you to mean actually touch him.”

Dean shook his head, eyes closing as the room began to spin again. It wasn’t quite the same as the usual alcohol spin, more of a feeling he was spinning down into the floor instead. His limbs tingled but it didn’t make him feel good.

“I don’t think I can deal with the aftermath if he gets wigged out and runs away again.”

“Dean, he’s not going to run away.” Benny said, grabbing a piece of paper towel to clean up Dean’s smudged lipstick. “He wore that costume knowing you’d like it, trust me. Just get back out there and take it slow, do it like the flirty Dean I know.”

Dean let Benny clean up the lipstick before taking a look in the mirror. He knew he was beyond hot and he knew he could pull Cas if he really tried but it still felt like a monumental task.

“Hey, thanks. I think I really needed that pep talk.”

Benny shrugged his shoulders before he followed Dean out of the bathroom, the two parting ways as they neared the dancefloor. Dean stopped by the table to swap his boots for sneakers before he headed back out in search of Cas.

Cas was still where Dean had left him but he had another mostly finished drink in his hand. He apparently had more confidence too because he was reaching out to pull Dean close almost instantly, single hand gripping his hip as the pair began to sway. Dean leaned in, arms around Cas’ neck, and tried to talk to him above the loud music.

“I really love your costume.” He said, taking Cas’ empty cup and setting it on the closest empty table he could find. “You make a good cowboy.”

Cas paused for a moment, a single coherent thought cutting through the haze of alcohol and want. The group had prepared him for this exact moment and he wasn’t going to waste it, not when the alcohol gave him the liquid courage he needed. He slid his hands down Dean’s back and past his hips, resting them on the curve of Dean’s ass as he leaned in to speak.

“They do say save a horse, ride a cowboy and I’d like to see how you ride, Dean.”

Dean, already reeling from the hands on his ass, nearly choked on his tongue when he heard what Cas was saying. He couldn’t believe what Cas was insinuating but his body didn’t have the same reservations. It pressed him closer to Cas, ground them harder against each other, and sent blood rushing exactly where Dean wasn’t sure he wanted it to be.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” He mumbled, hands sliding down Cas’ chest.

Cas frowned, heart sinking for a moment before he tried to salvage the moment. He freed up one hand, trying to tip Dean’s chin down to look directly at him. There was uncertainty in Dean’s eyes, a desire hidden behind it, and Cas had never seen Dean’s eyes so green before.

“I mean it, Dean.”

Dean’s fingers closed around Cas’ belt and then he was yanking Cas closer, quickly closing the gap between their lips.

The music died before they could close the gap and then someone bumped into Cas, tripping over someone else and sending the contents of their drink flying into the air. Dean felt the drink hit him and then he was sopping wet, red liquid quickly staining the dress he was wearing. His eyes were shining and disappointment was quickly brewing as he stared at Cas, glumly aware of just how badly the moment had been ruined.

The girl apologized before being whisked away by her more sober friends and then the announcement rang out that the dance floor had to be cleared. Larry was coming and they needed time and space to set him up. Cas simply pulled Dean off of the dance floor and back to their table in the corner, sitting him down before grabbing a few napkins to try and clean him up.

“I’m starting to think that we’re cursed when it comes to parties.” Cas chuckled, dabbing at the neckline of the dress. “You spill on me, some random girl spills on you. It’s a little unfortunate.”

Dean shrugged, his expression beginning to sour. “A lot unfortunate really.”

“Are you thinking about riding Larry? I remember everyone saying you had some kind record on it or something like that.”

“I’m not really in the mood so probably not.”

Cas frowned, the buzz of the alcohol already beginning to dull. Dean had been so excited just ten minutes ago and now he looked sullen and unsure, staring down at the table. He didn’t seem like the confident slightly cocky person Cas knew he could be.

“You’re really upset, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.” Dean mumbled. “I’m just tired and my head kind of hurts.”

“Do you want to get out of here? I live like five minutes down the street, you can crash at my place if you want.”

Dean hesitated, scrubbing a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure how to react or respond and the sudden whoops and cheers as the first of many took Larry on were beginning to get to him, making his head pound. It would be easier to talk somewhere that wasn’t a bar but Cas’ room was probably going to result in pure disaster.

“I just want some air first but sure, fine.”

Cas nodded before following Dean out of the bar. The air was cold, much cooler than it had been when they’d shown up, and Cas felt himself start to shiver. He blamed Thea for it, her and her barely there shirt idea. Dean pulled off his leather jacket when he saw Cas shiver, wordlessly handing it over before leaning against the brick of the wall.

Sliding into the jacket, Cas was grateful that Dean had worn it. He could see that Dean still didn’t look pleased and the anxiety was bubbling up in his stomach again, a feeling he could never seem to fully get rid of.

“Dean, did I do something wrong?” Cas asked quietly. “Because we were having a good time until that girl tripped and now you look upset and I’m sorry because I really didn’t mean to upset you if I did.”

“It’s not you, Cas. Well, not entirely.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean. How is it not me but also me?”

Dean sighed again, pushing off of the wall. “Look, it’s freezing out here so can we just start walking? I’ll explain when we get there, I just need to think about what I want to say.”

Cas nodded and set off with Dean, the pair walking in silence. He didn’t have to ask Dean what the issue really was because he already knew. They’d been dancing around it for months, quite literally dancing toward it earlier that night. They liked each other and Dean had made his feelings clear on multiple occasions, so it made sense he’d be upset. If that girl hadn’t ruined everything, Cas knew they’d be in a different scenario right now.

The house was quiet when Cas let them in but the telltale light filtering out from under the studio door told him that his mother was home. He thought about checking on her but didn’t want to introduce Dean or explain his costume so he left her alone. The trek up the stairs was short and Cas stopped them just before they got to his room.

“You’re not allowed to make fun of my room. Not that I think you would but still.”

“I won’t, I promise.” He mumbled, rather distracted.

On any other given day Dean would’ve been all over Cas’ room, examining every nook and cranny for every little detail he could ascertain about his friend but today wasn’t any given day. Dean trudged in and immediately sat himself on the edge of Cas’ bed, eyes focused on the floor. Cas sat next to him, leaving a little bit of space in between them so he wouldn’t make Dean uncomfortable.

“Take as long as you need to figure out what you want to say. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” Cas said, pulling the cowboy hat off of his head and setting it down on the floor.

The silence that followed in the next minutes was palpable and uncomfortable. Cas didn’t pry and didn’t try to make any moves, simply fiddling his thumbs until he heard Dean pipe up.

“I like you, Cas.” Dean said quietly. “I like you more than a friend and I’ve been trying to hard not to cross the boundary you set but I don’t know if I can keep it together anymore. The way we are isn’t the way friends are and it’s killing me.”

Cas swallowed thickly, the feelings of guilt returning.

“I’m trying to respect the boundary you want but it’s insane. We’ve held hands and we cuddle and tonight, well there’s no way tonight was platonic. I can blame it on the alcohol all I want but at the end of the day I know that I like you and that I want you. I thought maybe we’d get somewhere tonight because of your cues but then that girl ruined it and I don’t- I’m just, I’m frustrated.”

“I didn’t want tonight to be platonic.” Cas admitted. “I don’t want us to be platonic.”

Dean’s head snapped up and then he was staring at Cas with wide eyes, a mix of confusion and hope sparkling in them.

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.” he replied, pausing to collect his thoughts. “I was scared, I’m still scared by all of this, but I like you and I want to see what happens if we try. I’m just not good at all of this stuff and the alcohol was helping but it’s still not good and it just isn’t me.”

“So you’re not rejecting me then.”

Cas shook his head, turning so that he could face Dean. He could feel his heart beating in his throat and assumed Dean could too.

“No, I’m not. I want to talk about this and seeing what we can do but I’m also very tired tonight and the alcohol is just making me feel sick right now. Would it be okay if we talked about this in the morning when we both feel a little bit more like ourselves?”

“God I could kiss you right now.” Dean mumbled, a slight hope brightening his tone.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’d settle for cuddles tonight though.”

Dean nodded and smiled as he slid off of the bed, scooping up his bag. “I’m just going to wipe all my makeup off and put comfy clothes on though, if that’s alright. Maybe throw up some of the alcohol before I go to bed.”

Cas gestured to the bathroom door before he turned around, quickly changing his clothes. He traded the outfit for comfortable pajamas and crawled into bed, unable to stop his hammering heart. They’d talked, sort of, and while their feelings weren’t perfectly clear they were at least sort of on the same page. Maybe he hadn’t kissed Dean but he’d dirty danced with him and that was just as nice.

Dean came out a few minutes later in the obscenely short volleyball shorts and a t-shirt, all of the makeup wiped from his face minus the dark red lipstick that had stained his lips. He turned the light off before he climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers, pressed side to side against Cas in his double bed. They’d cuddled enough that they had a routine and Cas immediately shifted to curl up to Dean’s side, head on his chest and arm around his middle.

“Thank you for being patient with me, Dean. I know it hasn’t been easy.” Cas mumbled, closing his eyes.

“It’s no problem, Cas.” Dean shrugged, fighting back the urge to vomit as he closed his eyes and the room spun.

“You’re going to have to deal with my mom tomorrow, I’m so sorry. I promise she’s nice, she’s just a little intense sometimes.”

Dean shrugged again and settled down, choosing to push his luck a little as he tilted his head to press a kiss to the top of Cas’. It wasn’t anything special and really didn’t cross any boundaries but Dean felt his heart speed up anyway.

Cas smiled and snuggled in closer, amused by the fact something so simple was enough to speed up Dean’s heart.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Cas. Sleep well.”

“Night Dean.”

Chapter Text

Dean’s new best friend was Cas’ ceiling and the textured popcorn pattern of it. He’d been staring at it for the better part of a few hours, trying to numb his brain into stopping its train of thought. Cas was curled up to his side, arm around his waist and face buried in his neck. Cas’ breath tickled Dean’s neck and he wanted to push his head away but every time he tried, Cas just moved his head right back to where it had been.

All Dean had been able to think of was the bar and how they’d danced. Cas was good at what he had done, more than good actually, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he was turned on by it. Of course it helped that Cas had been in a sexy cowboy costume but he was Cas and he looked good in pretty much everything he wore. Then there was the whole debacle with what Cas had said and Dean couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d said it. The gravel in his voice had been downright sinful and Dean had been ready to hop on right then and there.

The more Dean thought about what had happened, the more he remembered the dream scenarios he’d had with Cas and those complicated everything. It was impossible to recall those without getting hot and bothered and Dean found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable.

“Stop moving so much.” Cas grumbled sleepily, hugging himself closer to Dean.

“Sorry.”

Cas mumbled something unintelligible and settled back down for a few minutes, beginning to complain again when Dean was still shifting. He tried to get Dean to relax, trying to grab at him and hold him still. All that succeeded in doing was Dean pushing Cas away enough that his hand landed exactly where he hadn’t wanted it to.

Dean immediately tried to push Cas’ hand away but Cas was wide awake now, grinning to himself in the dark as he shifted his body weight. Cas sat himself on Dean’s lap, legs on either side of him and hands squarely on his chest.

“You get this excited about sharing a bed with me often?” he grinned, shifting his weight again so he could turn on the bedside lamp.

Dean was incredibly flustered, face bright red and hands kept rigid at his side. “I don’t think I want to answer that question.”

“I’ve got a question I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much all night. Can I ask you?”

“Does it have anything to do with why we’re like this?” Dean asked, swallowing thickly. Cas’ weight wasn’t doing anything to help how he was feeling.

“It might.” Cas replied, digging his fingers into Dean’s chest as he wiggled to settle down. “When I grabbed your ass I didn’t feel any underwear. I think I’d like to know if you were wearing any.”

“I don’t- that’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

Cas grinned, sliding a finger down Dean’s chest to grip the hem of his t-shirt. “I’d like to get as inappropriate as possible, Dean. See, I think I have a theory about what you were wearing.”

“I’ll take my shirt off if you guess right.”

Cas’ grin bordered on a smirk now, hands gripping the hem of Dean’s shirt and lifting it just enough to reveal a strip of skin.

“A pink satin thong.”

Dean’s red face erupted into a shade so red he was pretty sure it wouldn’t register on any colour spectrum. His heart was racing, pounding in his throat, and his mouth had gone dry. He thought about calling Cas a liar but didn’t see that ending well and he sighed, shifting so Cas could tug his shirt off.

“There’s absolutely no way you could’ve known what I was wearing, no fucking way.” Dean mumbled, eyes cast everywhere except at Cas.

“Can I see it?”

Dean felt the wind leave his lungs, disbelief plastered on his face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me, Dean.”

There was another momentary pause before Dean decided to throw his questions out the window. He thought about just pulling his shorts off and showing Cas but decided against it, shifting to pull himself up into a seated position. Dean kept Cas on his lap, a strong arm wrapped around his middle to keep him in place.

“I think I’d like to makeout before that happens.”

Cas was happy to oblige, pressing his lips against Dean’s. The kiss was hungry, Cas’ arms around Dean’s neck and a hand tangling in his hair. He shifted his weight to grind down into Dean’s lap and Dean groaned into the kiss.

Cas was more than happy to keep up the intensity for a little bit before he tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and yanked his head back, lips moving down to his jaw. With his free hand he guided Dean’s hand to his ass before he was back to the same grinding rhythm. He felt Dean squeeze and then guide his hips and Cas groaned against Dean’s jaw.

“I’m going to get you out of those shorts and then I’m going to fuck you in that thong so hard your legs give out.” Cas hummed, voice so low the vibrations echoed through Dean.

Dean knew he was dreaming but the confirmation that he was was still disappointing somehow. It tripped him up for a moment but the sensation of Not Cas’ lips dragging down his neck was enough to entrench him in the dream. He felt the scrape of Not Cas’ teeth against the hollow of his throat and he groaned softly, pulling away to tug Not Cas’ shirt off before kissing him again.

Dean didn’t feel as guilty about the fantasy now, knowing at some point it would probably happen in a much more vanilla capacity. He knew he was significantly overestimating how good Not Cas was, point proved when Not Cas climbed off of his lap and off of the bed.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, Dean, and you’re going to be good and answer them for me.”

Dean nodded his head, chest heaving slightly from the exertion so far.

“We’ve experimented before so I know a little bit about what you like and I could figure out what we’ve done but we both know the fantasy is more fun when we pretend that I don’t.” Not Cas said, idly palming himself over his boxers. “Have you been rimmed before?”

Dean shook his head.

“Have you been edged before?”

Another shake of his head.

“Have you ever been degraded, praised, and fucked within an inch of your life?”

Damning silence from Dean as he stared at Not Cas, watching his hand move slowly.

“Final question and I sure hope you know the answer to this one: would you like me to do everything I just asked you about?”

“Yes, please.”

Not Cas grinned and stepped back towards the bed, stopping just shy of crawling onto it. “Get out of those shorts and then lay on your stomach. You can do that for me, right?”

Dean’s face burned as he wiggled out of the shorts and rolled onto his stomach, glad that all he had to do was stick his face in a pillow. He felt incredibly exposed but it didn’t make him anxious in the slightest. There was a dip on the left side of the mattress and then the weight evened out and he knew Not Cas was there, felt the drag of a hand down his spine leave goosebumps in its wake.

“You’re such a good listener, so well behaved.” Not Cas purred, placing a kiss on the back of Dean’s upper thigh. He snagged a finger in the back of Dean’s thong, snapping the fabric back against his skin. “I never thought you’d be such a slut.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he fought the urge to shake his head, choosing instead to bite down on his lip. He could feel Not Cas kissing up the inside of his thighs, soft groan turning to a low moan when he felt the squeeze of his cheeks and then felt them being pulled apart. Dean knew enough to know what rimming was but he still wasn’t prepared for the first swipe of Not Cas’ tongue on his perineum.

Not Cas pushed the string of the thong to the side before indulging Dean’s fantasies. He was relentless with the first full swipe of his tongue, throwing an arm across Dean’s lower back to keep him from shifting too much. Alternating between a stiff tongue and a relaxed one, Not Cas went until he heard the first of Dean’s continued moans. It was only when he heard those moans that he sucked gently.

“Cas, fuck…” Dean moaned, hands fisted in the sheets.

Not Cas grinned before delving back in, gently prodding with his tongue. He felt Dean’s hips buck up and then he reached under, his hand closing around Dean’s cock. It was easy to play around after that, working his tongue and his hand in tandem as Dean let it happen.

Dean had never been one to shoot off easily but the combination he was experiencing was out of this world and the heat in his stomach was quickly building. He tried to hold back but couldn’t and then he was trying to warn Not Cas. Not Cas knew and was quick to squeeze, staving off Dean’s orgasm before it happened.

“Mmm nope, not going to happen.” He said, completely removing himself from the bed.

Dean groaned in frustration before rolling onto his back. It was clear how much he was enjoying everything and he didn’t even care about upsetting Not Cas anymore, choosing to take the thong off.

“I know we talked about edging but I can’t, not tonight. Just want to get off.”

“Alright.” Not Cas shrugged, climbing back onto the bed. He wasn’t planning on doing anything unless Dean told him to.

“I have an idea so take off your boxers and then come here and straddle my thighs.” Dean said, propping himself up against the headboard.  

Not Cas obliged, curious about what Dean would do. He watched Dean spit on his hand before wrapping it around their cocks, distracted from the sensation by the sudden feeling of Dean’s lips on his. Everything about their kiss was hungry, heated, and Dean’s hand was sliding quicker and quicker with every passing moment. Dean could feel Not Cas’ teeth biting at his lips and rocking into his hand, fingers digging into and tugging at his hair.

“Fuck, m’close.” Dean moaned, eyes closed as he moved his hand faster and faster.

Not Cas spilled first, a quiet grunt against Dean’s lips as he came on his hand. That was all Dean needed to feel and then he was moaning, spilling into his hand too.

It was the first time both he and Not Cas had finished and Dean had a sinking feeling that he had done something he shouldn’t have.

~

Cas wasn’t in control of his body. Not that he was sure it was even his body.

He could see in front of him, could feel his legs carrying him down a dirt path, but the hands he saw when he looked down weren’t his. They were rough and cracked but they were too dainty to be his, too dainty to be male at all. His legs didn’t feel like his legs now that he was thinking of it, too small and too confined in layers of fabric.

Rain poured down from the heavens and soaked his body to the bone, the wind whipping past him and tearing branches from the trees. The path was slick with mud and Cas could feel the mud squishing between his bare feet, repulsed at the sensation. He reached up with his hands to shieled his eyes from the rain, hand catching long red hair that fell in front of his face.

Cas tried to speak but nothing came out, his voice stopping before it ever he reached his throat. He tried to stop the legs that weren’t his but found he couldn’t control them anymore.

He was trapped in a body that wasn’t his.

A hand closed around his arm and then the wind escaped his lungs as someone pulled him close, holding him against their chest. The grip was so tight his wrist ached and his body threatened to curl in on itself when he felt the hot stinking breath of someone he’d never wanted to see again.

“I wondered where you’d run off to.” Purred the councilor, strong hands bruising Cas’ arms.

The voice that rang out was one Cas knew intimately well and it felt strange as it echoed through the throat that was and wasn’t his own.

“Let go of me, you brute!”

The councilor laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that shot straight through Cas and made his stomach turn. With all the grace of an elephant, the councilor picked Cas up and slung him over his shoulder.

“You were ever so awful running off like that, leaving your poor husband all alone.” He laughed, stomping through the rain towards the twinkling lights of the village. “He’s been such a pleasant host.”

Cas felt his eyes widen and then his limbs were flailing around, fists beating the man’s chest and legs kicking at his back. It felt desperate, wild, but it did no good as the man approached a small house Cas knew was Anna Milton’s.

The interior had been trashed, jars smashed on the floor and herbs spilled across the hearth. Her table had been toppled, the sheets of paper burning in the fire, but they’d left the crib untouched. None of that mattered though, not when Cas saw the man he knew was her husband.

He’d been beaten, left eye swollen shut and bruises blooming along his jaw and cheekbone. The man opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was blood and a low moan of pain. His hands were mangled, crushed and twisted as if they’d been hit by a stone, and Cas felt himself cry out.

“What did you do to him…” he whispered, grief echoing in the voice that wasn’t his.

The councilor set Cas down, hands still gripping his arms to prevent him from moving. It was painful now and Cas was fighting back burning tears of rage. He’d seen all manner of nightmares but this, this was something else entirely. This wasn’t his story but it was his story and he was horrified.

“Theodore told us what you are, what you do.”

Cas’ eyes widened again, pure shock cutting through the rage. Theo was staring at him, begging for forgiveness with the one eye he could still see out of. The councilor didn’t bother to wait, simply marching Cas forward toward Theo.

“My associates and I require your services.” He grinned, gesturing with a hand to the men who leaned against one of the walls. “Just this one time and it’s such a simple thing you have to do.”

“I don’t want to.” Cas whispered, the voice soft and scared.

The councilor laughed again before shoving Cas to the ground, his boot placed squarely on his back and pushing down hand. He gestured for his men to grab Theo and hold him down, a knife placed against his throat.

“That’s your choice, Ms. Milton. You can comply or you can watch your husband die, those are your options.”

Cas felt a sob rip from his throat and then he was crawling towards Theo, reaching out to cradle his face. There was a tenderness in the action, a feeling of desperate love that seemed to wash over Cas until he noticed.

Theo’s tongue was missing.

Cas scrambled back, fresh tears streaming down the face he couldn’t control.

“Oh god…” he cried, shoulders wracked with the sobs. There was no debate any more, no choice but to conform. “I’ll do it, whatever you want.”

The councilor grinned once more, gesturing to a friend who produced a book from underneath his jacket. No bigger than a pocket sized bible, the book was bound in wrinkled red leather. The pages were faded and yellow, written in a language that was incredibly hard to make out.

“Follow what these pages say and then we’ll let you and your husband live in peace. That’s all you have to do.”

Cas felt the body rise to its feet and take the book from the man, eyes scanning the pages. He didn’t understand what it said but Anna, because that’s who he was somehow entangled with, knew exactly what to do. Collecting the herbs scattered around the floor, Cas slipped them into the singular jar that hadn’t been broken. He found a jar of oil with herbs floating in it and poured until the other jar was half full, filling the remainder with water.

Hesitation was mounting as he turned back around with the jar, placing it near the fire to heat up. There were other steps he had to follow but it was clear Anna didn’t want to, her switching path and nerves infecting the home.

“You have to follow everything.” The councilor said, his large hand resting on Cas’ shoulder. It gripped the fabric of the shirt that wasn’t his and slid it down, exposing the shoulder and collarbones.

“Don’t touch me.” He hissed, slipping out from under the councilor’s grasp. “I am well aware of what you require from me.”

With a shaky breath, Cas felt his arms reach behind him and unlace the stays that kept everything together. He removed the stays and the remainder of the clothing, bombarded with the shame Anna felt as she stood there naked in front of everyone else.

“Your husband is a lucky man.”

Cas felt the sharp sting of anger before he felt his hand connect with the councilor’s face, tingling numbness spreading throughout his arm.

“You do not get to speak of my husband, you disgusting pig.” Cas spat.

The councilor reached out to grab Cas’ arm, fingernails digging into the skin so hard he began to bleed. “I don’t know who you think you are but I own you. Now keep going or else you’ll see just how much I can make you do.”

There was a moment of silence before the body was moving again. Cas didn’t know exactly what was happening but he felt his hands rubbing the oil over his bare skin and then there was a man bringing him a bucket. He didn’t have to look in the bucket to know that it was meat, the iron tang of blood assaulting his nostrils.

“The tongue of a liar downed by one who has not spoken a lie. You know what to do.”

Bile rose in Cas’ throat but he swallowed it down, sinking to his knees as his hands fished through the bucket. The tongue was slippery, the ridges and bumps sending shivers down his spine as he held it in his hands. His eyes rose to meet Theo’s once again and the man was openly weeping.

He felt his teeth sink into the tongue and he tried to stop, tried to wrestle back control of the body that was not his. It didn’t work and Cas was forced to chew and swallow the tongue. All he could taste was blood and bile and when he vomited, he had to close his eyes.

“Hurry up.” The councilor barked. “The moon is at its zenith.”

Cas didn’t want to cooperate but Anna still had control and he was dragged along as she rose, reaching once again for the book. The words made more sense now, inky letters rearranging themselves into something that almost made sense. As Cas spoke in a voice that was not his, something began to change.

A burning sensation filled Cas’ veins while ice flooded his heart, threatening to burn and freeze him all at once. He heard Anna cry out before he felt the earth of the floor digging into his elbows. His skin tightened and stretched, bones breaking and shifting as the words from the book turned into nothing but screams. Cas’ mind was going, his little control becoming obsolete.

The councilor swore in response before he dropped to his knees, grabbing Cas’ hands and forcing them towards Theo’s throat.

“Finish it!” He roared, using Cas’ hands that were not his to choke the life out of Theo.

Anna, and Cas too, was screaming and thrashing but the pain was too much and neither could fight against the strength of the councilor. Theo was growing paler and stiffer and when Cas felt the last dregs of life leave the man’s body, something changed.

The body that was not his grew cold to the touch, the bones shifting and cracking back into place. Something else was in there with him, something primeval and full of malice. It swirled around him, inky tendrils probing at his conscience.

The last thing Cas heard before everything went blank was Anna screaming.

Chapter Text

The first thing Cas noticed when he woke with a start was the taste of blood in his mouth. The metallic tang was all around unpleasant, compounded only by the cold sweat that was dripping from his brow into his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest and in his ears and it was only when he registered the warm presence that he was curled up against was Dean that he was sure he was awake.

Cas felt trapped, claustrophobic, terrified by what he had felt in the dream. He hurriedly extricated himself from the blankets and Dean’s grip, tiptoeing across his floor to the bathroom. Throwing up did nothing to ease the queasiness in his stomach and only made the taste of blood that much stronger. Cas felt disgusting, but more than that, he was scared. He was scared of his dreams, scared of his feelings, and scared that nothing was real so he did the only thing he knew was instinctively correct. Padding out of the bathroom and down the hall in the dark, Cas paused by a different bedroom door.

“Mom?” He asked quietly. “Are you awake?”

There was a quiet crinkle of sheets and a pull of a lamp string before the bedside lamp in Grace’s bedroom carved a path through the darkness. Grace yawned, blinking away the last dregs of sleep as she tried to wake herself up. Cas didn’t bother waiting for her to wake up before he was practically throwing himself into her arms, holding on tightly.

“Woah sweetheart, what’s going on?” She frowned, wrapping her arms around Cas and holding him tightly.

Cas buried his face in Grace’s shoulder as the first of the panicked dry sobs began to wrack his body. He shook and shook as he clutched onto his mother, desperately trying to purge himself of every feeling he’d experienced in his sleep. It felt impossible to explain everything that was happening and his mother hadn’t asked yet, though he knew she would.

Grace didn’t have a clue what was happening but she was beyond startled, trying to calm Cas down. She rubbed at his back and tried to get him to breathe in time with her, mind racing with thoughts with whatever might’ve caused problems. It took a while to get Cas calmed down enough that he could breathe without being overwhelmed by another set of dry sobs and heaves.

“I can’t,” Cas mumbled, “I can’t keep it in any more. It’s too much, mom.”

“What’s too much? What’s going on with you?”

Cas hesitated, pulling away slightly to try and gather his thoughts. There was no way he was going to be able to explain everything without sounding like he was going insane.

“I have these dreams.” He began. “About this woman.”

Grace stiffened despite herself, guilty eyes meeting the eyes of her son who had most definitely noticed that she was less than relaxed. He panicked more, confusion in his eyes.

“You stiffened. Why’d you stiffen?”

“We need to have a serious conversation, one we should’ve had a long time ago.” She said. “Get up, I have some things I need to show you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, confusion cutting through the anxiety for a sort of temporary clarity. It didn’t make sense that his mother was suddenly so serious or in such a sharing mood. He let go of her nonetheless, hands wringing together anxiously as he followed her from his room.

“The woman you saw in my painting in the storage unit, that’s the woman you’re seeing in your dreams You’re probably wondering how I know what she looks like or why I know that you’ve been dreaming about her and that is a very complicated thing I need to explain to you.”

“Aunt Amara went behind my back and told you about them.”

“Well yes but that’s not the whole story.” She said, flicking the light on in her studio. “I’ve been seeing that woman since I was eighteen. She came to me one night in a flash and it went wrong from there.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Grace pursed her lips together, wordlessly turning towards her paintings. She reached for three and laid them out on the table, knowing she didn’t need to warn Cas of their contents. He’d already seen them.

He recognized all three of them and the queasy feelings returned. First there was the baby in the basket, the waves carrying her down the river towards a rocky outcropping. The second was the inside of Anna’s home, the hearth crackling and the pile of clothing drying near it similar to the ones he had been given. It was the final painting that made Cas clutch his stomach and turn away, threatening to vomit again.

It was Anna, like all of his mother’s paintings seemed to be. She was on her knees, lips stained red with blood that Cas knew came from eating her husband’s tongue. There was something in the painting’s eyes, something that Cas knew wasn’t entirely born of just Anna. He saw part of himself reflected in the painted eyes.

“You can’t know about that! How the Hell do you know about that?!”

Cas’ chest tightened and he stumbled back until he felt a chair, practically collapsing into it. He’d just dreamed about and there was no way in Hell his mother knew what he was going through. But the proof was in the painting and all he wanted to do was deny with all of his heart.

“All of my adult life I’ve dreamt of that woman and the things she’s dealt with. I’ve dreamt of more than just her and whether that’s just because of how I grew up or something else, I don’t know, but it’s true. I paint what I see because I feel like I have to, because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t.”

“When did you- how long have you known I’ve been dreaming about her?” Cas mumbled, staring at his hands so he didn’t have to stare at the paintings or his mother.

“A while. The fight your aunt and I had, that was about the paintings and your dreams. She made me swear not to talk to you unless you came to me but I should’ve just ignored that and talked to you regardless.”

“This is insane, this is not happening.” Cas mumbled. “This has to be some kind of genetic psychosis or like a gas leak or something. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Grace sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. There was no way she’d be able to calm Cas down and there was no way she could reason any of what was happening. It was an impossible situation and the fact that Cas had been handling it alone for as long as he had sent guilt spiking through her.

“You can deny it as much as you like but we both know it’s true, so does Rowena.”

Cas paused, eyebrow shooting up. “How does she know?”

“Well aside from the woman you asked her to tracked down, we discussed it when she read my tea leaves. I believe her when she says she’s in tune with things we can’t see or don’t believe in and quite frankly, I want answers.”

Cas shook his head in disbelief, still staring at his hands. It was too much to deal with and he was exhausted by every little thing that was happening. He still didn’t quite understand how his mother was seemingly tapping into the same messed up dreamscape he was but then again, everything his mother did seemed to surprise him these days.

“I know you paint to deal with what you see but I don’t paint and I don’t know how to deal with this.” Cas said. “I don’t sleep well and the only time I actually do sleep is with Dean and that’s so complicated right now. Well less complicated than it was but still not easy.”

“That’s the boy that you’ve been hanging out with, right?”

Cas nodded.

“Well, my only suggestion is to find an excuse to hang out more with him. If you sleep well around him then hang out in places with beds and just nap. It doesn’t have to be overly complicated.”

“He knows about the dreams, sort of. He knows I have them, he’s been there for at least two of them, but I haven’t told him everything because I really still feel like I’m going insane. I also told him about looking for the woman and the letter so I guess it’s fine but I don’t know.”

“He’s asleep upstairs, isn’t he? I’m fairly certain I heard the two of you stumble back in.”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs. We kind of sort of had a what are we talk earlier and I think fixed it but I don’t know. That’s really not my priority right now.”

“You’ll figure it out when you need to, sweetheart.” Grace said, turning away to put the paintings back on their shelf. “I’ll make sure that I make enough breakfast for all of us then. Are you going to try to get some more sleep?”

Cas shrugged. “I don’t think I can get any more sleep, not after that. I’m just gonna lay there, I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“Alright, do what works. But Cas, we both know about the dreams and this woman so I don’t want any more secrets about her between us. I’ll share if you do, we’re a team.”

Cas pulled himself from the chair, debating for a moment before deciding to hug his mother tightly. He didn’t feel great but he knew he wasn’t in it alone and the knowledge that his mother was seeing the woman too, while confusing and terrifying, was slightly comforting.

“Do you think we’ll ever stop seeing her?”

Grace wrapped her arms around Cas, hugging him fiercely tight. “I think that we see her for a reason and when we get to the bottom of who she is and what happened we’ll probably be free. I can’t make promises though.”

“I’m sorry that I woke you up but uh, thank you.” Cas mumbled as he pulled.

“Don’t ever be sorry for needing your mother. I’m always here for you, it’s my job. Now go on and try to get a little bit more rest.”

Cas lingered for a moment longer before he left the studio, heading back upstairs and to his room. Dean was still asleep but he’d rolled onto his stomach, arm under a pillow to support his head. Cas slipped back onto the bed as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb Dean.

“You’d think I was an entire bag of crazy if I told you what was happening.” He sighed quietly, laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “Hell, I think I’m going nuts and I’m the one dealing with it.”

Dean shifted in his sleep, rolling himself over to close the gap and curl up to Cas. He snuggled up to Cas’ side and then settled back down, face buried somewhere in between the pillow and Cas’ neck.

The pair lay there until light began to filter through the window in Cas’ room. Cas was still awake, his mind calmed down from the nightmare and happily dull. Dean was beginning to stir, arm squeezing around Cas as he yawned.

“God I feel like shit.” Dean mumbled, pulling away from Cas to lay on his back. “I really need to stop drinking.”

“You slept like a baby so you have to be doing something right.”

Dean grumbled something unintelligible before rolling out of Cas’ bed, stretching his arms. The sudden change in posture was enough to fill Dean’s vision with spots and he had to close his eyes, trying to steady himself and keep his heart from exploding out of his chest. He felt a knee buckle but caught himself, trying to play it off as hangover behaviour when he knew it wasn’t hangover behaviour.

“Are you going to live?” Cas chuckled as he sat up.

“If I get advil, coffee, and breakfast then yeah, I’ll live.”

“Good thing my mom’s downstairs making breakfast then. Do you need a shower before you go down? You’ve kind of got some makeup on your face still.”

Dean nodded his head, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Mind if I borrow a towel?”

“They’re on the shelf in the bathroom, go for it. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Dean thanked Cas before he left his room, heading off to shower and try to get himself feeling a little more like he usually did. Cas simply changed his clothes before he padded downstairs, planning on talking to his mom before Dean came down. He found her in the kitchen but she wasn’t in her usual Saturday robe, dressed instead in a pair of overalls and a brightly printed shirt.

“Morning, sweetheart. Were you able to get any more sleep after we talked?” She asked, glancing up from where she was cutting a loaf of bread.

“Not really, kind of just laid there.” He shrugged. “Dean’s just showering so he’ll be down in a few minutes. He’s kind of hungover so he might not be the way he normally is but I promise he’s great.”

“Anything I should know or avoid talking about?”

“Don’t ask about our relationship or whatever it is but other than that, not really.”

Grace nodded and returned to what she was doing, trying to finish everything off so she could sit down and relax. She heard footsteps after a few minutes and glanced up, curious to know just what Dean looked like. Cas hadn’t really ever described his friend so Grace was surprised when she saw just who Dean was.

He was tall which didn’t surprise her but everything else did. The musculature and sturdiness she saw underneath his shirt didn’t seem to match the face he had. His face was pretty, the kind she would’ve killed to paint.

“You must be Dean.” She smiled, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs at the table. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Cas’ mom but please, just call me Grace.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Grace.” Dean smiled, taking a seat at the table. He hadn’t thought too much about what Cas’ mom would look like but she wasn’t what he had expected. She looked more modern than Dean had assumed and her hair was short. “I love the pattern on your shirt, it’s like those old arcade carpets.”

“That’s exactly what it’s modelled after, good eye. I hope you’re a breakfast sandwich kind of person, that’s our usual Saturday breakfast over here.”

“No complaints as long as it has bacon.”

Grace chuckled, making sure to slip a few extra pieces of bacon onto Dean’s plate before she set it on the table. She set Cas’ down next before grabbing her own and taking the remaining seat. Cas seemed slightly nervous as he sat there between the two of them, picking at his breakfast to try and redirect some of his nervous energy.

“So Dean, Cas hasn’t told me all that much about you so give me a short little rundown.”

Dean took a minute to think, setting his coffee down after a long sip. “I’m in mechanical engineering which isn’t as exciting as it sounds, it’s really just a lot of math. I also work in my uncle’s garage part time so come on down to Singer Salvage and Auto if you ever need your car serviced. Um, let me think here… oh, fun fact about me: I’m lactose intolerant and not nearly as funny as I think I am.”

Grace chuckled despite herself, charmed that Dean was alright with making fun of himself. She thought about responding but Dean was beginning to talk again.

“So Cas tells me that you’re a bit of a famous local artist, I hear you’re Hopewell. I’m a fan, I won’t lie. Your pieces are so visceral.”

Grace felt her cheeks prickle with heat and she nodded her head, smiling slightly. “I am and thank you. You’re the second of my son’s friends that seems to like my work so I’m perfectly happy with who he’s surrounding himself with.”

“He’s just got good taste, that’s all.” Dean grinned. “This breakfast is great, thanks for feeding me. I’d really love to stay and keep chatting but I promised my brother I’d spend the day with him, he’s rewriting his SAT’s next month and wants me to quiz him.”

“That’s a very nice thing for you to do.” Grace said, smiling again. “It was lovely to meet you, Dean. Please come around whenever you feel like it, you’re always welcome.”

“I’d love to come back around but only if you promise to show me around your studio. And maybe find a baby photo or two of Cas.”

“Not now and not ever will you be seeing a baby photo of me.” Cas replied, shaking his head at Dean. “Want me to see you out the door?”

Dean shook his head, getting up to bring his plate to the sink. “It’s alright but thanks. I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

Cas watched Dean vanish upstairs to grab his bag before he was saying goodbye to everyone and then heading out the door. Grace waited until Dean was safely out the door and a few minutes away before she turned to Cas.

“You neglected to tell me just how handsome your friend is. I see why you get so flustered.”

“Mom, god, no. I didn’t need to know you think he’s handsome.” Cas mumbled, blushing.

“Oh relax, we both know he’s far too young for me. That and I don’t think Amara would be very pleased if I suddenly found someone else. He seems sweet though.”

Cas nodded his head, stepping up to the sink to do the dishes. He wasn’t entirely sure how to continue the conversation without setting his head on fire or giving up more information than he wanted to.

“So, have you two talked about what you are yet?”

“Sorta but not really. We um, we know it isn’t platonic but we haven’t talked about what that really means but it’s fine. I don’t want to worry about that right now.”

“Right. Well, make sure that you’re safe when you two do get intimate. I’m sure we have condoms around somewhere and I know there’s lube around in at least one drawer.”

Cas cringed as he listened to his mom, shaking his head. “Please god no, I do not want to hear this from you. I’ll just google it like every awkward teenager is supposed to.”

“If that’s what you want then by all means.”

“It’s what I want.”

Grace shrugged, knowing well enough to leave it alone. She was worried about Cas and had been thinking about him ever since he’d woken her up earlier that day. Of course she wanted to sit down and really grill him about everything but that wasn’t a conversation either of them were really truly ready for. Not that it mattered much anyway because she had plans of her own.

“I meant to tell you a few days ago but Rowena got back to me about that letter you gave her. She meant to talk to you but you weren’t home when she swung by. I was planning on stopping by the university to see her.”

“She’s had that for like a week, how does she already have news?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders, setting the dish towel down. “Literally no clue. All I know is that’s apparently really important.”

“Well when are you going to see her?”

“I was planning on going in about ten minutes. I take it you want to come?”

All Cas did was nod his head, grab his jacket from the hook in the entryway, and then head out the door.

Chapter Text

The history and anthropology department of the university was beginning to feel all too familiar to Cas. He knew there were exactly 1700 tiles between the Oxford street entrance and the wooden door to the office shared by all of the overworked Phd students. The triostar stromanche he passed by still needed to be watered and he thought about mentioning it to someone, though he wasn’t entirely sure who was responsible for that sort of maintenance.

The only thing that was different this time was his mother by his side.

“Do you have any idea what’s so important she felt like she had to drop by the house?” Cas asked, stepping past tile 1583.

“Well she dropped by to talk wedding details too but no, I don’t know. I assume she figured out who sent it or part of what’s in it but I’m not really sure.”

“Whatever it’s about, I just know it isn’t good.” Cas mumbled, the cold feeling he’d felt when he’d pulled it from the trunk making itself known at the base of his spine. The feeling wasn’t so much unpleasant as it was slightly uncomfortable and just a little too pervasive as it spread. Whatever it was, it was connected to everything going wrong and he didn’t like it. “Nothing in that trunk felt like it was good.”

“I kept everything I didn’t want to see in that trunk so yes, nothing in there is good. There’s a journal filled with teenage angst, a wedding dress for someone who was barely legal, and don’t get me started on the photo albums filled with a childhood that was not great.”

“The paintings of my brothers didn’t look bad.”

Grace bit her lip to stop herself from responding without thinking, a spike of panic rising up in her throat. “I didn’t realize those were in there. I haven’t seen them since your father moved them.”

“I didn’t see mine in there and since you did the first six I’m assuming you did one for me too.”

The air seemed to punch itself out of Grace’s lungs as her chest tightened with anxiety, heart racing. Of course Cas had seen the paintings, of course he had questions; any sane person would, and she hadn’t prepared for that. The flickering of the fluorescent lights overheard felt like they were going to give her a migraine at any moment so it was with great relief that she saw a familiar shock of red hair.

The redhead smiled when she saw the pair, hurrying over. Her dresses and formal style had been traded in for a pair of nitrile gloves and hair held in place with something that looked suspiciously like a well chewed pencil.

“I’m so glad that both of you made it.” She smiled. “You can follow me to the cramped doctorate office where I can show you exactly what I found with that little letter of yours.”

“You sound excited but somehow that doesn’t feel like a good thing.”

Rowena shrugged, holding the door to the office open for them. “That’s just academia for you. I did have to get someone else involved though, just so you’re aware. She’s just a professor but she knew some techniques for dealing with the paper that I just don’t know.”

The dead silence of wariness dragged into an uncomfortable dead silence when Grace and Cas quickly realized who the professor was. Cas hadn’t talked to his aunt for longer than he would’ve liked and seeing her knowing she’d betrayed his confidence brought back the sting of betrayal. He couldn’t begin to imagine what his mother felt like.

Grace paled, lump blocking her voice from escaping her throat. The last time she’d seen Amara they’d fought and it had been ugly. She’d thought they would’ve made up by now but life had had other plans and they hadn’t. Grace couldn’t maintain eye contact and chose to sink into the chair, exhausted already.

“I couldn’t make out a lot of the contents of the letter, there was too much water damage to the paper. That being said, there are a couple lines I could make out. Rowena figured out the envelope and everything else.” Amara explained.

“How important is this?” Cas asked, trying to cut through the awkwardness. “Like on a scale of one to ten, how worried do we need to be about whatever you found?”

“Worried isn’t the right word, technically. It’s not the kind of news that’s worrying.”

“So what kind of news is it then, if it’s not worrying?” Grace asked, finding she was able to look at Rowena. It was still awkward but at least Rowena wasn’t making snap judgments.

Rowena sighed before she pulled her gloves off, chucking them in the trash before reaching for a piece of fresh paper. It was a simple piece of paper with a name and an address printed on it. Faith Thatcher, it read, and the address was as familiar to Grace as her own face.

“Look, I don’t see how some random woman’s name and an address for a place in Port Omau are worth all this fuss. I don’t know this name and Cas doesn’t and there is no way this is the address on that envelope.”

Cas leaned closer to his mother to get a look at the name and the address, eyebrow raising. His mother was right, he didn’t know the name and he certainly didn’t see how a lakefront home was relevant. Maybe the woman who had sent the letter had sent it from the home but something about that didn’t feel right.

“That’s who sent the letter and that’s where she’s living now.” Rowena explained. “I don’t really know what else to tell you other than that I spent forever tracking her down because she's not local and really doesn't have anything to do with the Hopewells or the Novaks. The backchannel loopholes I had to find, well- let’s just say that I absolutely would like a proper caterer for the wedding.”

“This makes more sense with what I could pull from that letter so here, take this.”

Amara handed over another piece of paper, a few sentence fragments and some words scrawled on the page. They didn’t seem to make much sense at first but then Grace was scanning the words again and again and her eyes were widening. There was a sudden shake to her hands and then she set the paper face down on the desk, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You’re one hundred percent sure you didn’t mess up any of this? This is word for word what was written in the letter in the envelope?”

Amara’s expression was tense, smile so tight her lips were practically invisible. There wasn’t anything she could say to make it better. She was waiting for Grace’s façade to break, for the first tear to slide down her cheek but it never came.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on? I’d like to be in the loop.” Cas mumbled, keenly aware of the emotion radiating from his mother.

“Give them a minute to talk, dear. Come on.” Rowena said, gently pulling Cas from his chair and out of the office.

The door closed behind them and Grace dropped her head in her hands. A shuddering breath shook her shoulders as the first of the tears slipped from her eyes. She wiped at them roughly, tipping her head back to try and keep them in her eyes.

Amara’s frown deepened and she shifted to sit on the desk, resting a hand on Grace’s shoulder to squeeze tightly. “I’m sorry, love.”

“I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me.” Grace sniffled, trying to keep her composure. She could break down later if she really needed to. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. She was sick, maybe she just wanted to keep you from dealing with something else on top of it?”

Grace took another deep breath, reaching up to put her hand on top of Amara’s. “I don’t need to be dealing with this right now. It’s too much.”

“You don’t have to deal with it alone, you know that.”

Grace nodded, pulling her hand away before pulling herself out of the chair. She smoothed down her overalls, wiping one more time at her eyes. There were no words to explain the mix of emotions she was feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know where her and Amara stood but that didn’t stop her from closing the gap and hugging her tightly, face buried in her shoulder.

While the pair stood in the office, Cas was pacing back and forth in the hallway. He was a bundle of confusion and anxiety, chewing on his lip to try and distract himself. He hadn’t seen the paper and had no idea what was on it but he knew it wasn’t good, not if it had made his mother cry. Even Rowena had seemed somber and that really didn’t bode well.

“You’re going to make yourself sick pacing around like that.” She said.

“Well I still don’t know what’s happening or what was on the paper so it’s either pacing or biting my nails.”

Rowena shook her head, running a hand over her face. “The letter, what we figured out anyway, is a lot so give your mom a break. I don’t know her whole story but I do know that the fragments are bad. That being said, I have news about that woman you wanted me to find.”

Cas stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“Well, it’s not so much about the woman as I think it is about someone with the same last name. Turns out the last name is a whole lot rarer than I thought it was so I really had to broaden my search.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, I cannot handle that right now.”

“So we found ruins a couple hours out of town right, just some old houses and a few wells or something like that. Well there were documents in them and they’re ridiculously broken down but we’ve been able to make out a few things. One of them is some kind of obituary for a Theodore Milton.”

Cas’ heart lurched in his stomach as he fought back the wave of familiar anxiety. He knew Theodore Milton, had seen the man die in his dreams. It had to be the same man.

“Did you um, did you find anything else?”

“We’re still cataloguing and dating everything so I don’t know yet. It’s a bunch of doctorate students and a few of the history professors so the work’s slow. I’ll keep an eye out though and let you know if something else sticks out.”

“That would be great, thanks.” Cas mumbled, turning his head when he heard the door.

Grace stepped out of the office, still trying to wipe the smudged mascara off from under her eyes. She didn’t try to perk herself up or keep up appearances, sniffling as she tried to collect herself. It took her a few minutes to compose herself before she spoke, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry that took so long.” She apologized. “I um, I need to take a quick trip out of town to deal with a few things. I’ll be back by tonight.”

“What did it say? Where are you going?” Cas asked, worry growing.

“Port Omau, that’s where I’m going. It’s only a couple hours away. I won’t be long so maybe you can hang out with your aunt or some friends until I get back.”

“What? No. I want to come with you.”

Grace sighed, preparing herself for an argument that never came. Her protest died the more she thought about it and in the end she nodded her head. She quietly thanked Rowena, took another moment to collect herself, and then began the long walk back down the hallway toward the parking lot.

Cas followed his mother, more concerned by the silence than anything else. He’d seen his mother shut down before but this felt different, felt darker and more serious. Whatever had been in that letter was enough to emotionally devastate her and Cas wasn’t too sure he really wanted to know what it had been.

“I’ll drive.” He said, holding his hands out for the keys. “I really don’t like the idea of you driving when you’re upset and then we don’t have to talk if I’m busy focusing. Can I have the address?”

Grace fished the keys out of her purse, handing them to Cas. “It’s 1192 Quebec Street.”

Cas took the keys and when the pair of them were situated in the car, he was heading off. It was a decently long drive, just about three hours, but Cas didn’t really mind. The music on the radio played quietly in the background, some old radio station Cas couldn’t quite place. He kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to put any pressure on his mother to feel like she had to talk.

For the first 45 minutes Grace did nothing but stare out the window, lost in her own swirling thoughts. Eventually she shifted to face forward, fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Have I ever told you about your grandparents?”

Cas shook his head. “No, not really.”

“My dad was rough around the edges, he worked at the auto plant in town when it was still open. He knew what he believed in and he stuck to it, even if it was old fashioned. He tried to raise me well but it was hard when he got sick.”

“It was because of the chemicals he worked with, right?”

Grace nodded her head. “Yeah. He died when I was thirteen and then it was just me and mom but she was sick too, some kind of condition the doctors didn’t catch. She did her best but it was hard to make ends meet. All she ever wanted was to see me happy but she never did.”

“She died right after you and dad got married, didn’t she?”

“The next day.” Grace sighed. “She wanted me to visit her that night, said she had something she needed to tell me, but your father wouldn’t let me go see her. I begged and begged but he said no and I never knew what she wanted to say. Well, not until today.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Grace shrugged. “You’re going to find out sooner or later so it’s easier just to rip the Band-Aid off now.”

Cas frowned, grip tightening on the wheel. He didn’t think he’d like what his mother was about to say.

“I never really looked like my mother, I was too tall and my hair was too dark and my face just didn’t look like hers. I looked enough like my dad I suppose so I never really questioned much past that. Well um, that letter changes things.”

“What do you mean it changes things? The letter wasn’t written by your parents, it was just some random woman.”

Grace chuckled tiredly. “If that letter is accurate, it isn’t from some random woman.”

Cas’ brows knit together in confusion. He felt like he knew what his mother was getting at but he still wasn’t completely sold on it. Asking her point blank felt like a risk he didn’t want to take.

“So we’re going all this way to get an answer then.”

“Yes, we are.”

Cas chose to leave the conversation where it had ended and the car returned to uneasy silence.

Port Omau was a small town bordering a larger lake and Cas was intrigued by its presentation. It was quaint, nothing more than a bustling main street and farms sprawling out away from the shore. There was a lighthouse in the distance but Cas turned away from it, heading down the street on the look for the right address.

“Do you want me to wait in the car or do you want me to come in with you?” he asked, pulling into the gravel driveway.

Grace didn’t answer at first, too busy biting her nails. The anxiety was spiking in her chest and now her stomach felt queasy. She’d already learned too much that day and coming face to face with what had been a dark secret for the last 50 years was more than a little daunting. Dimly aware that Cas was speaking, Grace tried to blink back to reality.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you just said.”

“I asked if you wanted me to come in with you or just stay out here.”

“Oh. Um, come with me.” Grace replied, sliding out of the car. “I really don’t think I can handle this alone. Honestly, I don’t even know why I showed up here.”

“Same reason we got Rowena involved. We just have to know the answer.”

Grace took one final moment to steady her nerves before she walked up to the door, ringing the doorbell. Part of her hoped no one was home and that she wouldn’t have to confront the secret but the sound of approaching footsteps quickly disavowed her of that notion.

The woman who opened the door couldn’t have been more than 65. She was tall, taller than both Grace and Cas but had a pleasant air about her. Tucking a strand of more grey than black hair behind her ear, she offered both Cas and Grace a friendly smile.

“Oh hello. How can I help you?”

“Hi.” Grace said, fighting against her trembling lip. “Are you Faith Thatcher?”

“I am. May I ask who you are?”

Grace took a deep breath. “My name is Grace Hopewell and this my son, Castiel.”

Faith eyed the pair warily. She had no doubt they were related, the resemblance was strong, but there was something nagging at her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“What can I help you two with?”

Grace tried to speak up but found her words lodging in her throat and she grew flustered. Cas picked up on it quite quickly and reached for his mother’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’re here about a letter that you sent a long time ago.” Cas said, keeping his voice calm. “You would’ve sent it to Marjorie Hopewell, I think she was a nurse.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed for a moment, the realization striking her in an instant. She hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t really registered the last name and the appearance but it was all so clear. The dark hair, the height, the bright eyes, there was no mistaking it.

“Please come in.” She said quickly, stepping aside to let them in. “Did Marjorie finally share the letter?”

“She died a long time ago. We found the letter a few weeks ago.” Grace said quietly, stepping inside.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. She was a good woman.”

“The letter had a lot of water damage, it was really hard to understand. We only know you sent it because we know some people who are good with old stuff. We were hoping you’d be able to fill us in on what it said.” Cas explained, taking a seat when he was offered one.

Faith nodded her head before she explained she was going to make tea for the occasion, slipping out of the living room.

“I don’t think this was a good idea.” Grace mumbled quietly, staring down at her hands. “I don’t think I want answers anymore.”

Cas frowned, scooting closer to his mother. “No one is making you stay in here, mom. If it’s too painful then don’t stay, just go sit in the car. I want to hear what she has to say because I think the story deserves to be told.”

Grace didn’t have the chance to say anything else because Faith was returning with a tray in her hand. Three mugs, three bags of orange pekoe, and cream and sugar all sat atop the tray and Grace reached for it so she would have a welcome distraction from everything going on.

“My mom read what she could make out of the letter but I haven’t read the letter at all so I really don’t know what it said at all.” Cas said, refraining from drinking the tea. “I can guess what it said but I think it would be best if you explained everything from the beginning.”

“I was fifteen when I got pregnant, fifteen and the daughter of a prominent deacon in town. That didn’t go over well, as you can imagine, and he gave me a choice: give up the baby or end up on the streets.”

Grace shifted uncomfortably, swallowing down the tea to hide the bitter taste in her mouth. She refused to cry again, not in front of the woman she didn’t know. Cas reached out, placing a hand on his mother’s knee. He tried to comfort her, hoping the gentle squeeze would help at least a little bit.

“We all know what you chose so tell us how Marjorie fits into it.” Cas said.

“Marjorie was a nurse, one of the ones who dealt with the maternity ward. It was a bit of a different time then and well, no one really looked at me with any kind of kindness. She did, though. We became friends, somehow, and she told me all about her life.”

“Her and my dad couldn’t have kids of their own. Something from the factory just messed him up.” Grace mumbled. “I remember them talking about it. I thought it was just his memory going because he was sick.”

“That’s right. They wanted kids and I had a choice to make and it was better her than strangers that I didn’t know. There was a condition though, one that I imposed on them. I gave them a letter that I wanted my child to read when they were old enough to understand. Evidently they didn’t share the letter when I was hoping they would.”

“Mom was so sick by the end of her life that I don’t think she even remembered she had the letter.” Grace frowned.

Faith’s expression was as neutral as it had been the entire time but it was slowly beginning to crack. Her shoulders were sagging, lips downturning into a tired droop, and her hands were shaky as they held her cup. Regret and sadness emanated from her and Cas couldn’t help but feel bad for everyone else in the room.

“I wanted to find you but I didn’t know your name and I didn’t know if you were still living in the same house as you had been when they first took you in. I should’ve tried harder, I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

Grace’s teacup was empty and she stared down into it, uncertainty swirling like the dregs in the bottom. She had so many questions they seemed to blanket her mind like snow. The abandonment hadn’t really been abandonment so much as it had been a chance to really live. Would her life had been different if Faith had kept her? Would she have ever met Amara, ever had her children?

“It’s not your fault.” Grace mumbled quietly. “It’s all circumstance, even if it is unfortunate.”

Faith sighed, running a hand over her face. “I’ve often dreamed of what you would grow up to do, who you would grow up to be. I wondered if you’d be a nurse or a teacher or some brilliant scientist. I wanted the best for you. I hoped you would have a family of your own, find love and success and everything that I couldn’t give you.”

“I’m an artist, mostly. A high school art teacher too.”

Faith smiled softly. “An artist, that’s wonderful. Would I know your work?”

Grace shook her head, pushing down the spike of anxiety.

“Oh well no matter, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to find it later. Tell me about your family? I see your son here and the resemblance is definitely there.”

“I have seven boys which is a lot but I love all of them dearly.” Grace said, shifting to wrap an arm around Cas. This was easier to talk about, easier to focus on than her own background. “Castiel is my youngest and just between us three, he’s my favourite.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. He’d always suspected he was the favourite but hearing his mother admit it was something he hadn’t expected. It filled him with satisfaction and he knew he’d use it to brag if he ever saw his older brothers again. Maybe not with Gabriel but that was a problem for a later day.

“Well that’s certainly a lot of children, good for you. You and your husband must have had your hands full growing up.”

Grace’s expression soured. “He never did help much. Quite frankly, he was a horrible man and we divorced a few months back.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Mom’s happier now so it’s fine.” Cas said, finally adding to the conversation. “Her and her partner are doing good. We’re all happy for her.”

It took Faith a moment to register the word partner and then it took her another few minutes to fully understand what that meant. She didn’t seem upset at all, instead offering a fond smile.

“As long as you’re happy, that’s really all that matters.”

“I am.” Grace replied. “I had more questions for you but I can’t seem to think of them anymore. I think I’m just very overwhelmed trying to understand everything happening right now.”

“I feel the same way, don’t worry.”

The atmosphere in the room had shifted since they had begun their conversation over an hour ago. There was still anxiety and tension but it was lessening, slowly replaced by the creeping comfort of getting to know someone you’d wanted to know all your life.

The entire affair still didn’t sit right with Grace but questioning things as she so often did usually led to heartbreak, or frustration at the bare minimum. She’d questioned her marriage and her feelings and that had only worked out after a great deal of pain. Questioning her sanity had only led her down a path she was still unable to escape from. It didn’t seem manageable.

Then there was Cas.

His life had been so turned upside down since September that he’d long since given up trying to make any sense of it. He’d accepted everything his mother was doing, was more than happy to keep seeing what would happen between him and Dean, but everything else made him hesitate. The dreams horrified him, made worse now that he knew he shared his mother’s madness, and the adoption only added mystery.

“I actually have a question for you, Faith.” He said, breaking the silence.

“What about?”

“Family history. See, I’ve been really digging into the family genealogy as of late and well you kind of add a whole different limb to the tree. I was wondering if you knew anything about your family?”

Faith’s face lit up and she nodded her head, setting her tea cup down.

“I do happen to know a lot about our family, I’m part of a local history club that knows the area well. Is there anything in particular you’re searching for?”

“I’m really trying to trace the family as far back as it goes and I haven’t had much luck on mom’s side. Dad’s side is a bit different, it’s clear as day how far back they go.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, turning to glance at Cas. “I didn’t realize you were looking into your father’s side too.”

“Didn’t seem right not to do both.” Cas shrugged.

“Well, I don’t have any of the information available right now but if you give me some time then I can absolutely share with you.” Faith interjected. “Would you be willing to come back in a few weeks?”

Grace and Cas shared a look before they nodded their heads.

Faith seemed pleased with the outcome as she collected the empty teacups, putting them back on the tray before leaning back into the chair. The woman in front of her, her daughter, seemed so familiar and strange at the same time. There was an air of pain around her, the sadness and roughness of her life etched into the lines of her face. It had been hard but Grace was still alive and she had a family.

Faith’s eyes settled on her grandson, the very thought of it foreign in her. He looked like his mother but there was something else too, a stronger resemblance to his father. The boy seemed reserved but there was a spark in him too and Faith thought it was sweet. It was clear that him and his mother were close and Faith’s heart panged bitterly.

“Wonderful.” She murmured. “Can I offer the two of you an early supper or do you need to be on your way? I won’t be offended either way but I really would like to know more about you both.”

“Unfortunately I have to work tomorrow so I think it would be best if we got going.” Grace replied, pausing for a moment. She rifled through her purse for a piece of paper and a pen, scrawling a series of numbers down before handing it to Faith. “This is my number. I’d really like to keep in touch and get to know you.”

Faith accepted the paper with the faintest hint of a smile.

“I never thought I’d get to meet my daughter and I never expected to have a grandchild, let alone to meet them. So thank you, both of you, for giving me this gift. I’m grateful we were able to meet.”

Grace’s expression was neutral, her smile slightly watery as she rose from the couch. The goodbyes were simple and quick, Faith offering them a few parting words and a tin of homemade cookies before she sent them on the way.

The first hour of the drive home was completely silent, Cas focusing on the road and Grace staring back out the window at the passing scenery. She’d offered to drive back, had practically insisted, but Cas had told her no and taken the keys anyway. His mind was wandering as they drove, flitting from Faith to Anna to his mother and everything else in-between.

“You look like you’re thinking. What’s going on in your head?” Grace asked, shifting in her seat.

“Just thinking about everything going on right now.” Cas shrugged. “How are you feeling after everything that’s happened today?”

“Frustrated, relieved, but confused mostly. I knew there was something up with my parents but I didn’t think it was an adoption. It makes sense though and Faith seems nice enough I suppose.”

“I think she’s probably just as confused and frustrated as you are. Not that I blame you two because all of this feels criminally insane.”

Grace chuckled in agreement. “It really does. Why were you asking about the family history on that side?”

“I’m trying to figure out who that woman is and it’s becoming increasingly clear that she’s linked to both of us which got me thinking about how she could be linked. Someone practically erased her from history and that feels really sketchy to me.”

“So you’re thinking she may be someone distantly related from years ago?”

“I don’t know but I really don’t know what else to think. There’s no way we’d both be plagued with dreams like that if she wasn’t related somehow.”

Grace pursed her lips, thinking to herself. The logic made sense but she didn’t entirely believe it either. It was all too coincidental, all too batshit insane for any of it to make sense. But it had to make sense because nothing else did.

“I miss when my life felt normal.” She said, only half joking. “I’m sure you do too.”

“I do miss being able to sleep but I’m also maybe kind of happy with where it is right now.”

“You just like that you have a handsome boy who’s technically your boyfriend.”

Cas didn’t have an argument for that and shrugged his shoulders, not entirely disagreeing. He did have Dean and they were whatever they were and that felt like enough.

“I do and he sort of is but that doesn’t really matter right now. What matters is that you’ve been through a lot today and I really think you deserve a bit of a break. Thea’s always going on about self-care and rituals and whatnot so I think we should do some self-care and then watch a movie when we get home.”

Grace thought for a moment before she smiled again, touched that Cas was so concerned. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea. Should we stop off to get some snacks then?”

Cas was in complete agreement with his mother and turned off when they got closer to home. He grabbed a variety of snacks, a few self-care items he remember Thea talking about it, and then a couple other things for good measure too. Neither of them said too much until they got home but then Cas was taking charge.

“If you want to shower or get into your pajamas, I can get everything set up. I’ve got a couple ideas.”

“Are you really sure that you want to spend tonight with me?”

Cas nodded his head. “Of course I do. You had a rough day and it’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun and not horrifically traumatizing together.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Grace was quick to head upstairs and shower. While his mother was busy cleaning up, Cas got down to business. He laid out the snacks on the coffee table, a couple different kinds scattered around a bowl of popcorn that he added extra butter to. The two glasses of ice and cherry coke went on the coasters next to the bag of skittles and then Cas went through the painstaking process of setting everything else up.

His mother came back downstairs in a comfortable set of flannel pajamas and a pair of crocheted crocodile slippers, looking a bit more refreshed. There was a small basket she held onto, balanced on her hip as she scanned the coffee table and the available snacks. She reached immediately for the twizzlers.

“Dean likes those too and I think you both have awful candy taste.” Cas mumbled, plunking down on the couch. “So I was thinking we could do skincare stuff and then just watch a movie? It’s not fancy or anything but it’s something.”

“It’s more than enough because it’s something I get to do with you.”

Cas smiled again, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t forgotten that his mother had admitted he was the favourite and while he’d never say it out loud, it thrilled him to know how she actually felt.

“There wasn’t a ton of skincare stuff so I only got a couple face masks. I know that’s probably not as fancy as you’re used to.”

Grace simply reached for the basket she had set down, setting it on the remaining space on the coffee table.

“I figured it wasn’t as fancy so I’ve brought my things down. Let me teach you a thing or two about skincare, I promise your skin will thank me. Dean probably will too.”

“I can’t believe how much you actually like him.” Cas mumbled, face reddening.

“Like I said earlier, he’s a very nice young man. You’ve been so much happier ever since you two started hanging out, it looks like there’s a weight that’s been lifted off of your shoulders. I see how much you’re out of the house and while I like you being home, I like seeing you get out too.”

Cas nodded his head, watching his mother pull a few bottles out of the basket. It looked like a cleanser of some kind and it felt cool when it hit his skin. Grace rubbed it in and rinsed it off with a damp washcloth.

“He’s been really good about dealing with all of my emotional bullshit so that’s been helpful.” Cas said, tilting his head back so that his mother could dab on something that smelt cucumbery.

“That’s good. He hasn’t been pushy about anything has he?”

Cas shook his head. “No, he hasn’t. It’s kind of been the opposite which is really frustrating for someone who doesn’t have a clue about what he’s doing. We almost got somewhere a couple nights ago but then it just didn’t pan out.”

“That’s normal, honestly.” Grace reassured, reaching for a toner and a serum. “You two will figure it out, I believe it. I’m quite shocked neither of you kissed each other goodbye when he left.”

“I thought about it but then I chickened out. I’ll kiss him by Christmas and if not, then new years for sure.”

“I’m sure you will.”

There was a comfortable silence as Grace walked Cas through the rest of the skincare routine, finishing it off with a face oil that had a hint of a floral scent to it. His skin felt nice, a little more moisturized and oily than he was used to, but still nice.  He hadn’t really thought about what they were going to watch but talking with his mother was just as nice and he leaned against her, head on her shoulder.

“Do you think I’m giving him blue balls? Like I’ve heard that that’s a thing but I don’t actually know if it is.”

Grace couldn’t help the snort she let out, caught off guard by Cas’ question. It was an innocent enough question but it wasn’t one she was expecting. Hell, it probably wasn’t a question Cas was expecting himself to ask.

“Considering I’m not a man, I’m not sure I’m the most entitled to answer that question but it’s likely. I get the distinct feeling that he’s used to things moving faster but that’s fine.”

“I knew that would be the answer and I really just wish it wasn’t.” Cas sighed. “I’m not not interested, I’m just awkward.”

Grace shifted so she could wrap an arm around Cas. “If you two have talked about dating and seeing where things will go then I’m sure you’ll come to that organically enough. If that doesn’t happen, stare at his lips long enough and it’ll work itself out.”

“I have no clue what I’m doing, is he going to be upset by that? Because I really don’t want to suck and then get dumped. I’ve seen it happen and it looks painful.”

“If he’s understanding then he’ll know you haven’t done it before and he may even guide you through it. That’s what happened with Amara and I.”

“I’m still traumatized by walking in and seeing that so thanks.” Cas mumbled, reaching out to snag the bowl of popcorn. “But that’s fair I guess.”

Grace sighed softly, absentmindedly bringing her had up to play with the ends of Cas’ hair. They hadn’t spent time together like this in years and she hadn’t realized how much she had missed it. Cas was opening up to her, was willing to engage, and it was thrilling. It meant at least one of her children still had respect for her, still loved her enough to be vulnerable.

“I’m proud of you, I hope you know that.” She murmured quietly, stretching out to reach for the remote. Grace turned the television on and kept the volume low, mostly using it as background noise. “You’ve grown so much and you’ve really matured. You’re finally becoming who you’re meant to be.”

Cas shrugged and settled in closer, allowing his eyes to close. “I think it helps that I’ve got you. I don’t have it all figured out but I don’t think that I need to.”

“There isn’t a single person on this planet who has their life completely together. I’m fifty and I still don’t.”

Cas yawned and settled down, body so worn down all it wanted to do was lay there. Thoughts still floated around his head but he pushed them to the side, doing his best to muster the strength to get up and go to bed.

“I’m glad you’re my mom.” He yawned, voice deepening as sleep began to creep in.

Grace smiled softly, shifting her body so she could support Cas who was nearly asleep. She turned her attention to the tv, planning on sitting there for a little while before she went to bed. The background noise was the perfect backdrop as she mulled over the events of the day, trying to make sense of everything.

The more she learned about her family the less she seemed to understand them. She’d recovered from the shock of the adoption but she couldn’t seem to get her mind to leave it alone. Something about it didn’t feel right, whether it was because she didn’t want to accept it or there was something else going on, she didn’t really know.

All Grace knew was that things were going to get worse before they got better.

Chapter Text

When Cas found himself in an ancient crumbling church, his first thought was that something horrible was going to happen.

The church wasn’t Saint Mary’s and it wasn’t the church that had haunted his dreams before. This church was made of crumbling wood, moonlight streaming through the weak glass of the windows. It fell upon the simple stone altar, illuminating the lanterns that flickered weakly with candlelight. The cold air of the night cut through the building and through the thin material of Cas’ shirt.

He glanced down, unsurprised to find himself in the thin shirt and breeches he knew belonged to Theodore Milton. The last time he had seen the man, the only time really, it hadn’t been pretty. Cas still couldn’t look everyone in the eye.

A sharp creak broke the silence of the church and Cas panicked, ducking behind a pew in a dark corner. The last thing he wanted was to be spotted by someone who wasn’t his friend.

He recognized the man immediately. The broad sturdy frame of the councilor was unmistakable, thick hand gripping the rung of a lantern. It cast flickering shadows across his brutish face and Cas nearly winced when he got a good look at it. The strong nose, sharp jaw, and dark glittering eyes were too familiar to Cas.

“Hurry up, we don’t have all night!”

The voice struck Cas like a slap in the face. He clenched his fists, nails digging so hard into his palms he could feel the wetness of the blood beading there. It was the voice of his father, the voice of a man so consumed by power and revenge that it was all he truly was.

“What are we doing here?” Asked another voice as three more men made their way into the church, congregating around their brutish leader.

“It’s about that witch that lives in the forest on the outskirts of town.” Said one of the other men, voice hushed.

“This matter does concern her, yes.” The councilor said. “I am sure that all of you are aware of the sin that is poisoning this village.”

The men nodded their heads in agreement and Cas raised an eyebrow. He didn’t have all the answers but he was fairly certain the only thing poisoning the village was the brute who had dominion over it.

“My wife does not fulfill her duties and the other women, I do not know what has possessed them.” Said the third man, cut off by the councilor before he could say anything else.

“Possession, exactly. That wicked woman has forsaken our god and summoned something from the bowels of Hell. You were the one who came across poor mutilated Theodore, weren’t you Thomas?”

Thomas made the sign of the cross before hugging his arms to his chest. He had the energy of a man who had stared the devil in the face and barely lived to tell the tale.

“She mutilated her husband, slaughtered him in cold blood, and now she leads the good women of our village astray. Anna Milton has summoned the devil and now she must pay the price for her misdeeds.”

Cas’ blood ran cold in his veins. That wasn’t what happened, the councilor was lying! He’d been the one to mutilate Theodore, the one who’d forced Anna to eat his tongue, the one who’d made her kill him. The councilor had caused all the problems and, if he was to be believed, had summoned the devil.

“Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you are.” Cas whispered. He knew in his heart Anna would not only lose her eyes but would be erased from history nearly entirely and he wished it wasn’t true.

“At the height of the New Year, we will make Anna Milton pay for her crimes. I will get her here but there are some things I must entrust to all of you, my most loyal of followers.”

All Cas could do as he listened to the councilor and his plans was stay hidden, hand clapped over his mouth to keep himself quiet. He had to find a way out, had to find a way to warn Anna.

Cas heard the sound of footsteps some fifteen minutes later and dared to peek out from around the corner, able to see the three strange men slipping away from the church. He thought about trying to slip past the councilor but the man had at least 4 inches and a hundred pounds on him and that wasn’t a fight he wanted to risk.

Silence hung heavy in the air for several minutes before the councilor sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “God forgive me for what I am about to do.”

There was another squeak of the door hinges and lighter footsteps as someone else entered the church, Cas only able to see a shock of long blonde hair.

“Arthur?” She asked, pausing in front of the councilor. “Thomas told me that you wanted to see me? I don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until you got home.”

Arthur sighed again before he pulled the woman in for a tender kiss, hand resting on her waist. It was clear that she was his wife and Cas was shocked that the man seemed to have such a human side.

“There is an evil brewing here, Florence. An evil I have been tasked by God to fight.”

“You’ve done so much for our community, I cannot imagine that there is much left for you to do at all.”

Arthur pulled himself away from his wife, turning his back to her. There was a sudden squared tension to his posture and it set Cas on edge. Even the man’s voice had deepened, a steely bitterness that felt sharp.

“Anna Milton.”

“The woman hurts no one, least of all the women of the village. All she does is exist, especially after her husband.”

The councillor’s hands clenched into fists and he turned his head to the side, addressing his wife and the universe all at once. “Anna Milton is a witch, is a seductress. She is the one thing on this earth I cannot abide by any longer.”

“What are you saying?” she whispered, pulling in his hands to turn him around.

“I’m sorry.”

Florence had no time to process what she heard, too busy dealing with the thick hands choking the life from her throat. They squeezed harder and harder and her vision grew darker and darker, gasps turned to wheezing as the councilor's hands crushed her throat. He squeezed and squeezed until she was limp beneath his hands and when he pulled them away, her lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

Cas bit back a cry as his eyes filled with tears he didn’t really understand. He didn’t know if they were tears of horror or tears of sorrow but either way they fell and slipped over his hands. The footsteps on the floor of the church echoed in Cas’ ears but he couldn’t seem to move, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening.

The last thing he heard before his vision went black was the councilor muttering that Anna had been the one to kill his wife.

~

“It’s been a while since you’ve come to visit me like this.”

Dean’s eyes were narrowed, arms crossed defensively over his chest. He could feel the tiled floor beneath his bare feet and knew without looking down that the tile was a gross marbled pattern. The iron of the bench dug into the back of his legs and he knew if he glanced to the right, that he would find the same brochure stand he’d always found.

The train station in his dreams hadn’t changed but everything else had.

He hadn’t seen the train station in months, not since the night he and Cas had first officially met at the party. It didn’t bode well that he was somehow back there now.

“I’ve been a little preoccupied, sorry.”

Not-Cas, because that’s who Dean was seeing again, looked different. His hair was as short as it had been in September but everything else had changed. The sweet blue had deepened, shifted to a glittering darkness that had Dean shifting uncomfortably every time he felt the figment of his imagination staring at him. His limbs felt just slightly too long, too skinny, and the way he moved was too fluid.

“A little preoccupied hiding how sick you feel from everyone around you?”

Dean clenched his jaw, biting back a comment. He couldn’t say anything to himself that would offend him but he still had a hard time figuring that out.

Not-Cas grinned, sauntering toward Dean. He reached out with a finger to boop Dean on the nose.

“How are the headaches treating you. Champ? Or the nausea? Or the dizziness or the sleeplessness? Man, you’ve sure got a lot of problems on the go. Must be exhausting.”

“I’m fine, it’s not anything I can’t handle. I’m just tired from working and taking classes, that’s all.” Dean muttered. “You know all this shit, so why bother taunting me with it.”

“Because I know how bad it really is and I know just what you’re going to do about it because it’s what you always do.”

Dean rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. He knew his subconscious was right but he didn’t want to admit it.

“You’re going to do what you did when daddy died. First you’ll deny that you’re sick if asked, then go to increasingly desperate lengths to hide it, and then you’ll explode. You won’t ask for help because you don’t think you need it and you sure as hell don’t think you deserve it.”

“I know you’re me but seriously, shut the fuck up.” Dean muttered. “And you can stop with the sex dreams while you’re at it. Cas and I are in a good place, I don’t need it ruined by some dream that makes shit awkward if he wakes up at the wrong time.”

Not-Cas grinned and Dean’s blood ran cold. There was something off in his smile, too toothy and wide to be anything like the boy Dean knew. He took a step backwards, hand flying out to catch the top of the bench and steady himself.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘no’? You are a figment of my imagination and I want to stop so you are damn well going to stop.”

Not-Cas laughed, a sharp barking laugh that stole the breath from Dean’s lungs. “God, you are so fucking dense. You don’t control me, Dean, not anymore.”

Dean’s eyes widened and his heart began to race with terror and confusion. Not-Cas stepped forward, fluid motions as predatory as his smile. He closed the gap quickly and reached out, hand gripping Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to sit on the bench.

“What the hell…” Dean whispered, unable to help but stare at Not-Cas.

“I like it in your head, it’s such a nice little nest of repression. Besides, we both know Cas isn’t putting out any time soon and a man has his needs. You’re just so… what’s the word? Mm, delicious. Yeah, that’s it. You’re just so damn delicious.”

Dean swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, trying and failing to stop himself from shaking under Not-Cas’ touch. Something was very wrong. He reached over and pinched his own arm, desperately trying to wake himself up from whatever nightmare he was having.

“That’s so cute.” Not-Cas cooed, taking Dean’s hands and pinning them to the bench. “You wake up when I say so and right now I say no.”

Dean’s bottom lip trembled, the sound of his alarm clock echoing distantly in the train station. He knew he had to wake up soon or he was going to be late to class and that wasn’t something he could afford.

“What would make you say yes?”

Not-Cas thought for a moment, a wicked gleam flashing in his shark-like eyes.

“Next time we meet each other, you have to say yes to everything I ask you. That’s all I want.”

“That’s it?”

Not-Cas nodded his head, letting go of Dean’s hands.

“Good boy.”

Dean felt his consciousness slam so hard back into his body that the only thing he could do was roll over and throw up into his garbage can.

If something hadn’t been wrong before, it was now.

Chapter Text

“Last time I saw you, you only had one piercing in your face. How do you have four now?”

Thea smiled at her best friend, clasping her hands together. He had dressed up that day, a nice knit sweater and a pair of well-worn jeans. There was something different about him too, a happy air she hadn’t seen in a while.

“I got bored and decided a double nostril would be a cute combo with the one already in my nose. Added the eyebrow because it looked cool and I’ve already got a notch there anyway.”

“It is cool, I really like it. What’s Charlie think?”

“She doesn’t really care, not like they really benefit her.” Thea shrugged. “Your hair’s getting long, it looks good.”

Cas’ cheeks reddened and his eyes sheepishly darted down to the table. “You think so?”

“Well I try not to think but yeah, I do. What’s Dean think about it?”

“He hasn’t said anything about it so I don’t really know. We haven’t hung out in a couple weeks, not since Halloween really.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. She’d seen how handsy they’d been at the bar and even if she hadn’t, she still had eyes and Cas wasn’t the greatest at hiding things. They’d left together so something had to have gone right.

“We all saw you two leave together, we kind of assumed maybe you’d both um get in each other’s pants.”

“No, that’s not what happened.” Cas said. “We got back to his place and we talked it out. The word boyfriend wasn’t really used but we are technically dating so I guess the outcome was good. We’re just, we’re taking it slow. And we haven’t hung out because he’s been busy with work and I’ve been making sure my mom isn’t falling apart.”

“She still fighting with Amara?”

Cas shook his head. “No, they made up. She um, she found out that she’s adopted and then we ended up finding her actual mom and it’s kind of been a lot. Obviously it’s been like a month and she’s doing better but I’m still worried, you know?”

“Holy fuck dude, that’s heavy shit. That must be awful.”

“It was pretty bad but I think she’s adjusting, she’s not really crying anymore which is good. She’s been visiting her every weekend, I think she just wants to get to know her mom better. To be fair, I’ve got to go visit her anyway because I’m on this like genealogy hunt for that side of the family right now.”

Thea nodded her head, pausing so she could take another sip of her coffee. Cas had slammed her with a metric ton of information that seemed to fit like one more horrifically shaped piece to the puzzle of whatever his life was becoming. She knew she could ask him more about the genealogy or his mother but that topic of conversation didn’t exactly feel like it was the right vibe for the occasion.

“Okay, that’s a lot, so let’s focus on something a bit more positive like you and Dean. So you must be excited that you’re finally a thing. You two kissed while not drunk yet?”

“He kissed the top of my head if that counts.”

“We both know that that doesn’t count.” She chuckled. “Did you get an invite to his thanksgiving yet? Him and his mom throw this fantastic thanksgivings and all of us end up going over every year.”

“Not yet but I also don’t really want to leave my mom alone for thanksgiving. I think she was thinking of having her mom and then me and Amara for thanksgiving though I imagine she’d probably invite you and Dean too.”

“Fair enough. I’d still ask him about it though, wouldn’t hurt. Maybe shoot him a text?”

“I texted him yesterday asking to hang out but he never responded which is weird because he’s always got his phone on him.”

Thea pursed her lips for a moment before reaching for her own phone. She scrolled through her messages, found Charlie, and decided to give her a quick call. The call was four minutes tops, four minutes where Thea seemed happier and brighter than she normally was, and when it was finished she turned back to Cas.

“Sorry, it’s easier to talk to Charlie over a call. She’s literally the worst texter I’ve ever met. Anyways, Dean’s sick so that’s why he’s been mia. Apparently he’s got a cold or something and that man is notoriously a baby when he gets sick.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Cas said. “Would it be weird if I went and checked up on him? Maybe brought him like soup or something?”

Thea grinned, reaching into her bag for a piece of paper and a pen. She scrawled several things down before sliding the list over to Cas. “Way ahead of you, bestie. Here’s a basic list but I’m sure you know stuff he likes that we don’t.”

“Sometimes you scare me with how much you know.”

“Maybe I’m secretly a witch.” She teased, playfully pushing Cas’ arm. “In all seriousness though, go see your boyfriend. I gotta go to work, I’ve got a bunch of people to pierce.”

“Why’s it always get so busy for you around thanksgiving?”

“Because people with fantastic taste want to make themselves hotter and piss off their conservative relatives in the process.”

“Okay, uh fair enough. I’ll see you later but thanks for the advice.”

Thea smiled back, offered Cas a little wave, and then watched him leave. There was a flutter of pride in her chest at just how much Cas was coming out of his shell. He seemed so much more confident, so much happier, and it was all she really wanted for him.

With the list in hand, Cas set out on the mission to see the boy who was somehow both his boyfriend and not his boyfriend. He mulled over their relationship as he wandered the aisles of the grocery store, adding items to the basket on his arm. Dean was patient and understanding (even if it was probably driving him nuts) and it meant the world to Cas. The physical reassurance he provided was more than enough to make Cas feel better about everything. He was quick with the handholding, with the cuddling, and the compliments were enough to keep Cas more than warm.

Cas didn’t quite understand what Dean saw in him but he was quickly learning that it was better to go along with it and figure out the reasoning later. Looking a gift horse in the mouth didn’t do any good. He found parking like he normally did and made sure he had everything in the bag before he made his way to Dean’s dorm, knocking on the front door. When the door opened, Cas wasn’t surprised to see Lee on the other side.

“Well hey Cas, long time no see.” He smiled, stepping aside to let him in. “Please tell me you’re here to see Dean.”

Cas nodded his head.

“Thank fuck. I love the guy but he’s so whiny when he’s sick and I am not prepared to deal with that. He’s been complaining he hasn’t seen you but every time I tell him to text you he gets all huffy and tells me that I’m not his mother.”

“Yeah, I heard he can be a bit much when he’s sick.”

Lee nodded his head. “For sure. Well, have fun in there and don’t get yourself sick.”

Cas offered Lee another friendly smile before he was heading over to Dean’s room, knocking on the door before stepping inside. The curtains were partially closed and the bedside table was littered with cold medicine, Kleenex, and mugs Cas assumed had had tea in them. All of Dean’s blankets and his comforter were wrapped around him like a cocoon and his laptop was open in front of him, fingers flying across the keys.

“I don’t think working on your laptop in the dark is very good for your eyes.” Cas said as he flicked the light on.

Dean jumped in surprise, laptop sliding off of his lap and onto his bed. His heart raced in his chest as he glanced up, the clear startled expression shifting to something brighter when he registered who it was.

“Cas, hey!” he beamed, trying to find somewhere to put his laptop that wouldn’t require him to remove himself from his pile of blankets.

Cas smiled to himself and shook his head slightly before making his way over, taking Dean’s laptop and setting it on his desk. He could see how pale Dean was and see the prominent dark circles under his eyes and it was a little jarring. The congestion was evident in the two words Dean had spoken and Cas really didn’t like it.

“I heard you were sick so I thought I’d be nice and bring you a few things. I maybe should’ve brought a few more things, you look kind of awful.”

“Gee thanks.” Dean mumbled as he let the blankets slide down from around his head. “Haven’t left my bed in like three days.”

Cas nodded, silent for another moment. He was thinking about what to do next, recalling what his mother usually did for him when he was sick. “Tell you what, I’ve got all day with nothing to do and everyone around you is tired of your apparent whining so let me take care of you.”

Dean didn’t attempt to protest, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. He was glad to see Cas and glad to be taken care of, even if he didn’t admit it.

“First things first,” Cas said as he set the bag down, “We’ve got to fix this bed situation. We’re changing your sheets and washing your blankets so they don’t smell like sick. You’re gonna shower while they’re in the washer and then you’re going to wear clean comfortable clothes.”

“Dude, I can’t even stand in the shower without getting dizzy and almost passing out.” Dean groaned, letting go of the blankets as Cas pulled them away.

“So sit down then, it’s not complicated.”

Dean huffed and began to protest but it died on his lips when Cas shot him a look. He knew the look all too well, it was eerily similar to his mother’s, and he knew better than to argue with it. Dean pulled himself from his bed with a groan of exertion, reaching for a clean towel hung up just in front of his bathroom.

“Your building laundry room is just upstairs, right?”

“Yeah, it is. Thanks.”

Cas shrugged before turning his back to Dean to get to work. He removed everything on top of Dean’s bed before stripping the sheets and blankets and piling them into a laundry basket he had tucked away. He brought them up to the laundry room and got them started, setting a timer for when he had to transfer them to the dryer.

Dean still wasn’t out of the shower when Cas got back so he busied himself with putting the new sheets on Dean’s bed. He fixed them up and then rummaged through Dean’s drawers and closet, laying out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a comfortable looking sweater before making his way to the kitchen. With the tea kettle turned on and boiling, Cas went about making a honey lemon tea and reheating the chicken noodle soup he’d brought over. When Cas returned to Dean’s room, he was just shuffling out of the bathroom.

Dean looked slightly more alive than he had before, skin still flushed pink from the hot water. Cas waited until Dean had changed into the clothes he’d laid out before he shuffled over, setting the mug of tea on the nightstand and the soup next to it.

“You look a little better than you did earlier.” Cas said. “Go on and get into bed. I’ve got tea and some soup on the table for you. I gotta switch over your blankets though so it’ll be an hour before you can get them.”

Dean crawled into bed, too tired to do much else. He reached for the mug of tea before leaning against the wall, closing his eyes. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

“You’re sick and I just missed you. It’s no big deal.” Cas said, cheeks reddening slightly.

“I missed you too. I’m really sorry I haven’t texted, I’ve been so busy and then I got sick and I am still so tired.”

“I know where you live so don’t worry about it.”

A small laugh slipped out of Dean’s mouth and then it warped into a cough as he turned away. Dean leaned over Cas to set the mug down before he gave up and decided to just lay down, closing his eyes.

“Sorry, I know being around sick people is gross.”

“I had at least one sick sibling a week, this is nothing” Cas shrugged. “I’m gonna switch your stuff over to the dryer and I’ll be right back. If you manage to finish your soup, I might’ve brought a slice of pie with me.”

Dean seemed to perk up slightly and was rolling to grab the bowl of soup by the time Cas was slipping out of his room. The soup was warm and had a mild flavour, just enough for Dean to taste it as he ate. He made it through about half the bowl before he felt nauseous and set it down.

“How long are you gonna stay?” He asked, shifting in bed when Cas returned. “Cuz it’s been almost three weeks and I’m feeling very deprived.”

“I’ll stay for a little bit but I’ve got to be home for supper.”

Dean seemed content enough with that and waited until Cas was sitting down before he stretched back out, laying his head on his lap. He’d missed Cas and was going to take every chance he could to get close to him again since kissing him wasn’t an option. As much as Dean had been busy and had thought about texting Cas, he’d been too afraid to. Everything felt too up in the air.

“So, thanksgiving is coming up and I don’t know what day your family celebrates if they do but you’re invited to come to mine. All my friends come every year and well, I mean you’re more than a friend but still. I think my mom would kill me if I didn’t ask you.”

“Well what day is yours? Mine’s on Friday and I know my mom probably wants you to come too. So if they’re not the same day, I’ll do you if you do me.”

Dean snorted in response, the motion sending waves of pain through his chest that he ignored. There was no way Cas caught what he’d said and that made it even better. He rolled onto his back so he could stare up at Cas, grinning as he reached up to poke his nose.

“I never realized how big your nose is. It’s cute.”

“Hey, I brought you soup. Don’t be an asshole.”

“I called it cute, that’s not being an asshole.” Dean replied. “Mine’s on Saturday, always is. I’d love to go, if your family’s chill with it. Your mom is so nice.”

Cas brought a hand up to play with Dean’s hair, running his fingers through it absentmindedly. The weight on his lap was nice and he could feel Dean melting under his touch, something that seemed to warm Cas up from the inside.

“My mom’s been having a rough time so I think she’d really like seeing you again. She’s been going on and on about wanting to give you that studio tour you asked for last time.”

Dean frowned slightly. “What’s going on with your mom?”

“Remember that letter that we gave to Rowena?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, uh, turns out it was another family secret because apparently nothing in my family is normal. My mom’s adopted and we found her actual mom and they’re actually getting to know each other. It kind of fucked up my mom for a week.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry. How are you doing with all that?” Dean asked, suddenly sounding very concerned.

“I’m fine with it, it’s not like I knew my grandparents. I just want to make sure that my mom’s alright and she seems to be fine.” Cas shrugged. “Now stop talking and stay still. You need to rest.”

“Well if there’s anything I can do to help, please just let me know. Your mom’s sweet, she doesn’t deserve that and you don’t either.”

Cas smiled softly and leaned down, heart racing anticipatorily. He wasn’t stupid enough to kiss Dean’s lips while he was sick and even if Dean wasn’t sick, Cas wasn’t that brave. He was, however, just brave enough to kiss Dean’s clammy forehead before settling down.

“I’ll stay until you pass out then I'll grab your blankets and then I’m gonna head home. There’s pie in your fridge and medicine on your desk so make sure you take it. Get better for Friday so I can see you again.”

Dean nodded slightly before settling down again, content to lay there as Cas played with his hair. The routine of the touch was simple but comforting and Dean was very very tired so it didn’t take long for sleep to overtake, dreaming pleasantly of Friday’s thanksgiving.

~

Dean knew exactly how to charm people he was meeting for the first time and he’d already met Cas’ mom but he was nervous. Cas’ mom’s partner would be there, his grandmother would be there, and Cas had told him it was likely that one of his brothers and his fiancé would be there and that was entirely too many new people for how Dean was feeling.

The cold had faded away but whatever had been there before was returning with full force. His muscles were tight, his joints ached, and he couldn’t seem to get rid of the constant pressure at the base of his skull. He didn’t particularly want to leave the warmth of his bed but thanksgiving was important and he wanted to show up for Cas.

With a plate piled high with homemade desserts, Dean left his dorm and made his way to Cas’ place. He fiddled with the collar of his jean jacket and did a quick fix of his hair before he was knocking on the door and waiting nervously. There were a few laughs echoing from inside and then some footsteps and the door was being pulled open.

Cas was on the other end, dressed in his usual combination of khakis and sweater. It was a deep blue, some kind of textured knit, and Dean bit back an immediate flirtatious comment. Eleven am felt a little too early to ask to see under the sweater vest.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Dean asked, reaching out to rub the curly ends between his fingers. “It’s different but it looks really good.”

Cas’ cheeks flushed red and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I might’ve put a little product in it but I’m growing it out, glad you like it.”

“Well it’s you so of course I like it. Anyway, I brought these like homemade cranberry blondie bar things. I know I didn’t have to bring anything but my mom always says you don’t show up to a dinner party empty handed.”

“You’re getting brownie points already. You need a rundown on everyone?”

Dean nodded his head, pausing to take off his boots.

“So my mom is the way she is and you already know Rowena so that’s cool. Gabe’s the only brother that showed up and he’s a little nuts, think candy obsessed and somehow fascinated with like old vintage stuff. My grandma really loves old historical stuff and I think she knows a little bit about crafting. Mom’s partner is the new anthro prof at the school, she’s like whip smart and kind of my favourite person. You’ll like her.”

“Okay, I can work with that.” Dean said, trying to control the anxiety in his voice. He stopped to smooth down his layers with one hand, trying not to chew a hole through his cheek. “Do I look okay? I know the jacket and the flannel and the shirt under are a lot but layering is like my comfort mechanism.”

Cas leaned back on his heels before raking his eyes over Dean, taking in the well-fitting clothing and the carefully styled hair. He wanted to try and recreate the magic of their flirting on Halloween but knew better than to attempt that so he settled for stepping in close to fix Dean’s flannel collar, letting his hands linger on Dean’s shoulders for just a moment too long.

“I think,” He said as he pulled his hands away, “that you look incredible. Now come on, I think Gabe is getting hangry and no one wants to deal with that.”

Dean watched Cas’ hands fall back to his sides, took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and followed Cas into the kitchen. He recognized Grace and Rowena but everyone else was new and it made him more anxious than it should’ve. Luckily for Dean, Grace recognized him immediately and made her way over with open arms.

“Oh hello sweetheart, I’m so glad you could make it!” she beamed, throwing her arms around Dean in a tight hug. Pulling away to give Dean the chance to breathe, Grace gave him a quick approving once over. “I’m so glad that you’re feeling better, you look great.”

“I’m glad I’m feeling better too, I was hoping I’d be able to make it today. I brought cranberry blondies, I hope that’s okay.”

“More than alright.” She said. “You know Rowena already but we’ll have to make introductions with everyone else.”

Dean nodded and turned around, leaning against the counter as he finally took a good look at the other people at the table. It was obvious who Cas’ grandmother was, the grey hair and posture a dead giveaway. She looked like she was nice to talk to and probably had a million different stories about her life.

Dean’s eyes settled on Gabriel and the older man was nothing like he’d expected. He’d expected the height and the beady eye description was also correct but the hair was not. It was long and looked soft. Gabriel seemed to take after Grace more than Cas did, not that that really mattered.

“So you’re the one who’s got my brother in a tizzy, interesting.” He said, setting his wine glass down. “You’re a little too Ken for me, personally.”

“Yeah well, Cas described you as chucky-esque in that you’re a little nuts but not psychotic so I guess we’ve both got things to work on.”

“Well you’ve got some bite. You must be Dean.”

Dean jumped at the sudden voice that came from behind him, turning around to face whoever it belonged to. The woman was tall and he knew from looking at her that she had to be Grace’s partner which meant that she was part of the whole can of worms Cas didn’t like talking about. Searching for her name took longer than he cared to admit but he got there eventually.

He stuck out his hand, firmly shaking hers. “I am. You must be Amara.”

“That I am.”

“Well enough of the chit chat, I think it’s high time that we eat. So everyone sit.” Grace said as she ushered everyone to the table.

When everyone was seated, she set the last of the food on the table and then took her seat next to Amara. The urge to pray like she had for many many years was strong but she avoided it and everyone else followed suit, happy to help themselves. Dean, who was no stranger to piling his plate high, refined from doing so this time. He still felt nauseous and his stomach hurt from the mix of the smells but he wasn’t about to not eat and accidentally offend someone.

The silence continued for a while until Gabe decided to break it, looking directly at Dean.

“So Dean, tell me about yourself. Cassie’s been pretty cagey with the details about you, I think he thinks I’m going to embarrass him or something.”

Cas narrowed his eyes and kicked Gabe under the table for the nickname he used, leaning back in his chair. He had no doubt Gabe was going to try and embarrass him and he hoped Dean wouldn’t fall victim to it. Gabe embarrassing him was normal but Gabe embarrassing him in front of Dean was unforgiveable.

“Well I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and I would say frisky women but that’s not the most appropriate.” Dean chuckled, clearly joking around. “There’s really not much to me. I’m in mech eng, I work at an auto shop, and I play guitar.”

“Bit of a red flag there, that mech eng. You’re not one of the ones who’s going to break Cas’ heart are you?”

Dean shook his head, flatly denying Gabe’s question. He leaned back in his chair and debated for a moment before he stretched an arm out to wrap around the back of Cas’ chair, a casual intentional motion. “Yeah, it can be red flaggy but considering it took me three years to even attempt to hang out I like to think that I’m not a red flag. I brought dessert if that helps my case.”

“It only helps if it’s good dessert.” Gabe said, sliding from his chair. He was in a bit of a rush to clear the table so he could pile the desserts on it and he managed to convince Rowena to help him, her sigh of exasperation echoing.

Dean watched them for a minute before turning his head to the side and leaning in, chin on Cas’ shoulder so he could talk to him quietly.

“You weren’t kidding when you said he’s a little nuts.”

“This is nothing, you should see him when he drinks.” Cas replied, doing his best to act like he wasn’t flustered by the close proximity. Dean had been nothing but fun and charming and Cas could see that everyone who hadn’t met him was beginning to warm up. The relief that brought was almost immeasurable.

“I’m sure I’ll see that later.” Dean chuckled, pulling away. He thought about starting up another conversation but the dessert was on the table before he could, everyone pushing everything towards each other in a mad slapdash of sugar and icing.

Dean’s cranberry blondies were a hit and by the time he’d finished the three slices of pie and the slice of gingerbread cheesecake on his plate, there were none left for him to eat. He seemed almost disappointed by it and when Cas noticed, he broke his in half and offered half to Dean.

“Here, take it. I know you’re sweet enough but you look so disappointed.”

“Cassie, you’re going to make me vomit.” Gabe interrupted, gently teasing his brother. “Ro and I haven’t had pda and neither has anyone else so I think you two have to keep your hands to yourselves.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you something to complain about if you don’t leave us alone.”

“What, are you gonna finally kiss me? Right here in front of your family?”

Cas’ face flushed bright red and he shook his head, pulling himself up from his chair. He wanted to kiss Dean and not just because Gabe was being annoying but it wasn’t the time or the place. Besides, kissing him in front of his mother was a horrific thought. Cas mumbled something about needing a little bit of air before he excused himself.

Dean dropped his head into his hand, sighing slightly. “I’m so sorry half of you are meeting me for the first time and just witnessing an absolute masterclass in embarrassment and how not to be smooth.”

“You’re doing fine, Dean. Cas is just a unique case.” Grace said, beginning to clear the table. “We all know he’s shy but you’ll figure it out in the end.”

“Well, if the story he told me about Halloween is true than you’re in better shape than most.” Amara mused, staring at Dean over the rim of her wine glass.

Dean choked on his spit, blood and heat rushing to his face. He hadn’t counted on Cas telling anyone else about that night, much less his family. Plausible deniability was impossible so Dean chose to sip his water awkwardly.

“I can see your brain working Gabriel and it needs to stop right now.” Grace said as she held out a dishtowel. “You’re helping me with the dishes to give your poor brother and Rowena a break.”

Gabe groaned but got up to help his mother anyway. By then Cas had returned and he still couldn’t look directly at Dean but that didn’t matter because Faith was already pulling him into the living room to talk about the genealogy project. That left Dean with Rowena and Amara and Amara seemed curious about him, leaning in closer. 

“Cas hasn’t told me all that much about you, he certainly didn’t tell me about the bleached hair or the earring.”

“I went as Tiffany Valentine for Halloween so I committed to the hair and I just thought the earring was cool.” Dean shrugged. “You’re the new anthro prof, right? He’s been telling me a bit about the work you’ve done and it’s pretty cool. Grace has told me a lot about you too.”

“All good things I hope.”

“Only good things.” He chuckled. Dean thought about continuing the conversation but he could feel his phone going off in his pocket and he had a feeling it was his mother. It was his mother when he did check and he sighed, pulling himself from his seat.

“Oh don’t tell me you have to go already. I was hoping to give you the studio tour.” Grace said, pausing to wipe her hands on a stray dishtowel.

“My mom wants me home, needs my help with all the prep for our thanksgiving tomorrow. We’ll have to do the tour some other time, say next Friday?”

“Any time after 4 would be great.”

Dean nodded his head and prepared himself for another hug from Grace, content to hug her back. She gave great hugs and he enjoyed that she was so affectionate. He was smiling when he pulled away and thanked her for the meal before he wandered into the living room to find Cas.

Cas was staring intensely at all of the documents Faith had brought with her, eyes scanning every single word as he furiously scribbled notes in his own notebook. There were generations upon generations laid out in front of him and he wanted the answers they would provide. He seemed lost in his own world so it came as a bit of a surprise when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Dean and offered him a soft smile.

“I’m gonna head home, my mom needs help with all the prep for tomorrow.” Dean said. He let his eyes flick down to Cas’ lips for just a moment before he swallowed the urge down and levelled his gaze again. “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer.”

Cas saw Dean’s gaze change, felt his heart skip a beat, and considered acting for a moment before he chickened out. The timing was wrong again, he didn’t want to do that in front of his grandmother.

“You’ll just have to make up for it tomorrow.” Cas said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dean offered one final half smile before he left and headed home, cursing himself for not just going for it and kissing Cas.

~

Cas expected Dean to be the one to open the door when he knocked the next morning so it came as a bit of a shock when it wasn’t Dean on the other side. Mary was there, hair pulled back under a bandana and denim apron wrapped around her. It was comfortably homey and Cas couldn’t help but smile.

“Come on in,” Mary smiled as she stepped aside. “Dean just stepped out to go pick everyone else up so he’ll be gone for a few minutes. I hope that’s alright.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders and stepped inside, slipping his shoes off. “It smells great in here, you must be cooking up a storm.”

“With how much my boys eat, absolutely I am. It’s been a little bit since I’ve seen you, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, really busy with classes and a family history project on the side. This week’s been a great breather, didn’t realize how much I needed it. What’s been up with you?”

Mary nodded her head, making her way back to the kitchen with Cas in tow. She stepped behind her island and returned to the vegetables she was chopping up, gesturing for Cas to take a seat at the bar there.

“It’s the same old same old here, just work and making sure the boys don’t lose their heads. Sam’s been consumed with college admission applications, well that and his girlfriend, and Dean’s been going on nonstop about you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, trying not to appear too curious. “I doubt it’s nonstop.”

“It practically is but that’s alright, I really don’t mind.” She said. “I don’t know what you’ve done but he seems so excited now, so full of life. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

“I’m not that special, he’s just exaggerating.”

“You may not be that special but you’re special to him and that’s all that matters.”

Cas had been there a grand total of three minutes and he already felt the butterflies beginning in his stomach. He had a feeling he’d be a human cocoon by the time the day ended. The idea of teasing Dean about that later entered his mind but he quickly shelved that, knowing Dean had the home advantage and would use it to fluster him right back.

“Is there anything I can do to help you finish up here?” He asked, twiddling his thumbs. “I’m pretty good in the kitchen.”

“The only thing you can do to help if you really want to is uncork the wine that’s sitting on the kitchen counter. I’m in the habit of letting all of you kids drink and we tend to go through a few bottles. That’s why Dean’s picking everyone up, they usually spend the night in his room or the living room.”

Cas nodded his head and grabbed the corkscrew, heading towards the collection of wine bottles. “I didn’t realize that everyone slept over. Think I’m important enough to sleep in his bed?”

“I think that you’re important enough he’d probably kick everyone out of his bedroom if it meant you two could get to know each other biblically.” She chuckled. “He’s not shy about sharing that he’s into you and wants to take it further. He did tell me about Halloween, not that I’m trying to embarrass you by bringing that up.”

Heat prickled at Cas’ cheeks and he was glad Mary couldn’t see just how red he was. Of course Dean would’ve told his mom about what had happened, it was kind of a big deal. It all came down to exactly how much Dean had told her and how specific he’d gotten. That alone would determine how much Cas would drink that day.

“What um- how much did he actually tell you?” Cas asked.

“Enough to know that you two just really need to find an uninterrupted good moment alone to settle things.” She said. “I’m not trying to overstep here but it’s pretty clear how awkward things are and I can provide a solution if you need that.”

“You can provide an uninterrupted moment alone for us to settle things? Forgive my skepticism but I’ve met Dean’s friends and I can’t see that ending well.”

“I know Dean’s friends very well and I’m perfectly capable of wrangling them. Just leave it with me and I’ll make this as organic as possible for you.”

Cas was still skeptical but he didn’t exactly have the time to respond as Dean’s friends came spilling into the kitchen. They all poured towards Mary, trapping her in an uncomfortably large group hug before making their way to the living room. Only Dean remained in the kitchen and he took a seat, grinning at Cas.

“I see she’s put you to work already.”

“I offered so technically she didn’t.” Cas replied, turning around and leaning against the counter. “Keep not being around when I show up and your mom and I might just become best friends and break out the baby albums.”

“You will never be allowed back in my house if she shows you those photos so think carefully.”

“Ignore him, he’s just hangry.” Mary teased, gesturing at Dean with the end of her wooden spoon. “Now you two get out of my kitchen, I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Cas didn’t argue and shuffled out of the kitchen with Dean, heading to the living room. Everyone else had taken up the couches and the floor so Dean took up the remaining space on the arm chair and Cas seemed to hesitate for a moment before perching on the arm rest next to him.

“Seriously Cas, the arm rest?” Thea mumbled from her spot on the floor, head on Charlie’s lap. “His lap is like right there.”

“If you don’t take it, I will.” Lee said from his spot perched on Benny’s lap. Of course Benny wasn’t the fondest of that idea and tightened his arm around Lee, holding him in place.

Cas rolled his eyes, much more comfortable around everyone else. He was in a playful mood, thrilled to be hanging out with everyone in a setting that didn’t put the pressure on him. “So sorry I don’t drape myself over my boyfriend like I’m some touch starved harlot from the 1800s.”

The silence was immediate and damn near deafening, the singular telling word hanging in the air like a dead man. Thea, who had been in the know for a week, flashed a thumbs up that didn’t match the slightly shocked expressions of everyone else in the room.

“Dean Tyler Winchester, you did not tell me that you and Cas made it official. That’s such an asshole move.” Charlie said, sounding comically disappointed.

“Yeah, how long have you two been together?” Lee asked.

“Kind of sort of since Halloween.”

Dean nodded his head in agreement with Cas, still stunned by the fact Cas had used the b word in an open way. It wasn’t like it was a secret but it added an official air that he quite liked. He shifted in the arm chair, tentatively wrapping an arm around Cas’ middle but not quite pulling him down into his lap. That felt a little too personal.

“Well good for you two, congrats.” Benny said.

Cas was preparing himself for the million questions he could see Charlie working her way up to but luckily, they never came. Mary interrupted before the questions could start and then the herd moved again, everyone filtering into the kitchen and taking their unofficial official assigned seats. Of course Dean and Cas wound up next to each other and Cas was thankful for it. Staring at Dean never seemed to end well.

“I made more than enough for everyone because I know how much all of you eat and I know you like to take leftovers home. So please have seconds and thirds and even fourths if you want.” Mary said as she set the last dish of food down, taking her seat next to Sam.

Passing around the food was surprisingly calm given the fact there were two high schoolers, six university students, and a middle aged mom all vying for a little bit of everything. Everyone piled their plates high and filled their glasses full and when that was done, everyone got down to it.

There was a solid mix of eating and conversation and Cas found himself swept up in how familiar and comfortable it felt. It was clear everyone there were friends and that they considered Mary as much a parent as their actual parents. Cas was talking about a million different things with everyone else and hadn’t breathed so much as a word to Dean until halfway through his second plate when he finally glanced over at him.

Dean hadn’t finished his first plate yet and he’d maybe finished half of his glass of wine which didn’t feel normal but he was still getting over being sick so it was probably fine. He hadn’t been the most talkative either which definitely didn’t sit right with Cas.

“Hey, are you feeling alright?” He asked as he nudged Dean’s arm to get his attention. “Haven’t heard much from you today.”

Dean shifted slightly, turning his head so he could see Cas. “Just a little tired, still not totally over being sick.”

“Do you want to go have a little nap? I could always bring you up a piece of pie when we get dessert out.”

“Not so sure I wanna leave you alone with all these yahoos and my mom.”

Cas shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “I’ll just hang out with your mom, she’s cool. Will you go if I promise not to look at your baby photos? Cuz you do look really tired.”

“Any way I can convince you to come nap with me?” Dean asked, trying to throw in a charming smile that really looked more half-assed than it was.

“And have everyone here think we’re running off to go hookup? Sorry but no. Besides, I’ve been eyeing that lemon meringue your mom made all day.”

Dean grumbled something about it being Cas’ loss before he got up, stretching his arms. “I still feel like death so I’m going to go have a nap.”

There were a couple murmurs of ‘feel better’ and one threat to eat all the pie but everyone seemed fine with it, turning back to their plates and finishing up what was on them. Dean made it upstairs before the first wave of nausea hit, practically doubling him over. He knew he’d overdone it, eaten too much too fast, and it upset him. The tiles dug into his knees as he threw up and he prayed no one could hear him.

When he’d finished emptying his stomach and flushing the evidence, Dean pulled himself to his feet. He rinsed his mouth with the mouthwash he had stashed away and then he returned to his bed, crawling under the covers to stretch out. His joints ached from the cold and he could feel the muscles in his legs beginning to spasm in protest. Dean buried his face in the pillow to muffle his frustrated scream. He was tired of his body aching, tired of the dizzy spells, tired of his heart beating so hard in his throat he thought it would tear it right out. The dream kept coming back to haunt him, Not-Cas’ words echoing in his ears.

You’re going to do what you did when daddy died.

I like it in your head, it’s such a nice little nest of repression.

He was sick, it wasn’t something he could ignore, but he wasn’t about to tell anyone else. His mom didn’t need something else to worry about and he didn’t need his friends prying even more. Repression, no matter how much it sucked, was the way to go.

There was a quiet knock on the door and then Cas was shuffling in. The bed dipped as he sat next to Dean, reaching over him to set the plate with pie on the nightstand. He reached out, as had become routine, to run his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Feeling any better?” Cas asked, shifting to stretch out next to Dean.

Dean rolled over so he could face Cas, still under the covers. “A little bit, yeah. How’d you manage to sneak away from everyone? Thought you and my mom were becoming best friends.”

“Charlie convinced everyone to play drunk charades and your mom handed me the plate so I could escape the horrors.” Cas chuckled. “I also maybe wanted to make sure that you were okay. You really didn’t look so hot at dinner.”

“Wow, I didn’t look so hot. Way to kick a man when he’s down.” Dean teased, scooting closer.

“I see you trying to fish for compliments here but I don’t know if I want to give in. I’m not as gullible as you think I am.”

“So you don’t think I’m hot then, got it.”

Cas rolled his eyes but kept the smile on his face. He knew what Dean was doing and wanted to resist but didn’t, deciding to just play along. The gap closed as Cas scooted closer and he propped himself up on his elbow.

“Obviously I think you’re attractive, Dean. I wouldn’t have had an entire sexuality crisis and the balls to dress like I did on Halloween if I didn’t think it was going to catch your attention. Now I could do the cliché thing and list all of the things I think I like about you but that’s a little much.”

Dean couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. They finally had a moment alone and even though he felt like his body was giving up for the day, he wasn’t going to trade it for anything. He thought about leaning in to kiss Cas, eyes drifting towards his lips and then back up to his eyes, but he didn’t go for it.

“I’ve been trying to kiss you for the last three weeks.” He finally admitted, almost sheepish as he stared down at the blankets. “I wants to yesterday but then your family was there and it felt like bad timing and then I wanted to earlier and that also felt like bad timing and I just don’t ever think there’s going to be a good time.”

Cas felt the slight flush on his cheeks, heartbeat suddenly more prominent. “You um- you could kiss me now.”

Dean just about stopped breathing, eyes wide as he finally met Cas’ gaze. There was denying that he was very interested in doing just that.

“You mean it?” He asked, so close to Cas he could smell the pumpkin pie on his breath.

Cas was already breathing heavily and Dean’s talking wasn’t doing anything to stop his nerves. He wanted it, Dean wanted it, and the tension was almost too much to bear. Cas knew he could say yes but that was another word and he didn’t trust himself to even say it.

With all the resolve Cas had in his body, he closed the gap and finally kissed Dean.

Chapter Text

The first time Cas kissed Dean it had been nothing but a blur, alcohol fuelled hunger turned to tugging lips and wandering hands. The second time he’d kissed Dean had been a dream and that was such a vague memory that Cas didn’t know what he felt like in the moment.

This time, the real first time Cas had control, was completely different.

The desire was still there but it was softer, a mellow warmth that flooded Cas’ body. Dean’s lips were soft and the press of them was nice. Cas reached out with the hand not trapped under his body to cup Dean’s face, attempting to pull them closer together. He was met with the sheets that Dean was still hidden under.

Dean was the first to pull away, just enough to catch his breath as he tried to free himself from the sheets.

“Cas, wow…” he whispered, managing to free his upper body from its fabric prison. “I uh, just…”

Cas laughed, the smallest laugh shared between two people who weren’t planning on looking back. He could see just how red Dean’s face was and imagined his was much the same. If that was the price he paid to be doing what he was doing, it was worth it.

“Dean, shut up and kiss me again.”

Dean blinked for a moment before he was kissing Cas again, a hand cupping his face and the other pulling Cas closer by the small of his back. It didn’t matter that he still felt sick or that it was likely someone would come looking for them because he was here with Cas doing what he’d wanted to do for ages.

At some point Dean managed to kick the blankets off and then he was pulling Cas directly flush with his body, hand on the small of his back slipping up under his shirt. His instinct was to roll one way or another, getting someone on top of someone else but he wasn’t entirely sure if that was something Cas would jive with so he didn’t.

“How far are we taking this?” He murmured, lips brushing Cas’ jaw. “Don’t want this to end bad.”

Cas tilted his head back, grip tightening on Dean’s bicep. His body wanted all of it but his brain was less keen on that, especially with the door wide open. It was impossible to think when he was in Dean’s bed and wrapped up in his arms.

“I don’t know. Didn’t exactly plan ahead here.”

Dean laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Planning defeats the purpose here. We can stop here, we can keep making out, or we could go further but then we run the risk of someone walking by. I could always get up and close the door.”

“I think you should probably close the door. I don’t really want someone walking in.”

Dean grinned and rolled out of bed. A wave of television static slammed into him as he stood, heart suddenly pulsing painfully in his chest. He stumbled slightly but quickly righted himself, shutting the door before leaning against it in a way that he hoped came across as more nonchalant than troubled.

“Are you good?” Cas asked, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows.

“Just stood up too fast, no biggie. That or you just make my knees weak.”

Cas shook his head, grinning. “Again with the flirtations. You really do want in my pants.”

Dean nodded his head, padding back over to the bed. He climbed onto it and decided he wanted to park himself on Cas’ lap, seeing how far he could take things. His heart was still pulsing but he was trying to tell himself it was just from Cas.

“Will you let me get into your pants?” He asked, resting his hands on Cas’ chest.

Cas’ heart was pounding again and he knew Dean could feel it. It was a mix of thrill and anxiety, pleased Dean was doing this but unsure of exactly what he was doing. He knew his voice was rough and maybe a little panicked but that was fine.

“How about you just kiss me for a little bit first.”

Dean was more than happy to oblige, meeting Cas halfway. It was slower, gentler, a calm kind of connection that did little more than make both parties warm. Neither seemed to worry too much about moving quickly or undressing or anything else that came with the territory. Cas was the first to have wandering hands, tugging at Dean’s flannel until he took it off.

Dean tossed it somewhere on his floor before he decided his shirt needed to go with it. Cas clearly felt the same because he was trying to get his sweater vest off but his elbow was stuck in the arm hole and then Dean was laughing.

“I keep telling you sweater vests are dangerous. You look ridiculous right now.” He teased, helping Cas pull off the sweater vest.

Cas rolled his eyes before they settled on Dean, staring unabashedly. He knew Dean had a nice body but actually seeing it was something else. Dean was pleasantly toned, not too muscular but not skin and bones either, and his skin was warm as Cas ran a hand down his side and settled it on his hip.

“Well you don’t.” Cas said, suddenly very self-conscious of just what he looked like under his shirt. “You never do.”

Dean smiled again, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. He was never very good at taking a compliment from Cas. The thought of taking Cas’ shirt off was right at the forefront but something had shifted and Dean picked up on it. Cas looked less sure than he had before and that made Dean hesitate.

“You look nervous. What’s going on?” He asked, climbing off of Cas and sitting next to him.

Cas sighed, letting himself sink back into the mattress so he could scrub a hand down his face. “It’s stupid, you’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“I doubt that.”

Cas sighed again, keeping his eyes closed. It was too awkward to look at Dean, not that it mattered because he could feel the bed shifting and Dean waiting with his arms open. Cas gave in and scooted closer, not giving up a chance to have Dean hold him.

“You’re a ten, let’s make that clear.” Cas said as he shifted, half spooning Dean so he could rest his head on Dean’s chest. “I’m not, not really. I think I’m like a six on a really good day. I keep thinking that you’re going to see me and then decide I’m just not worth all the effort.”

Dean frowned, stilling the fingers playing with Cas’ hair. “I get it, don’t worry. I worry about that with you too which I know is ridiculous but still.”

“How on earth do you worry about that with me?”

Dean shrugged.

“I don’t know but I do. Guess I’m just not as confident as everyone thinks I am. There’s not much I can say that’s gonna make you worry less but I will tell you that it’s not like that for me. Yeah looks play into it but I like you as a person too and that matters more. You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re funny even though that’s probably just dumb luck.”

“You cannot possibly think that I’m all that.” Cas mumbled.

“Well I do and my mind’s made up. I’ve liked you for like three years and it’s taken me three months to even get the balls to kiss you and I don’t usually wait that long. Point is, for whatever it’s worth, that I like you even if you don’t understand why and I don’t see that changing.”

Cas smiled softly and snuggled in closer. His anxiety wasn’t erased but it was assuaged for the time being.

“Thanks, Dean.”

“Any time, angel.” He mumbled, closing his eyes. “Think I’m going to take a turkey nap, wanna join?”

Cas warmed at the nickname and settled in, content to nap with Dean in bed.

~

When Grace woke up in her studio, she knew something was wrong.

She hadn’t painted since thanksgiving and it was already almost the second week of December. Her life had been a bustling whirlwind of opportunity and good luck; a pay increase, students that actually listened, and a new deal with a local art gallery to show some of her newer works were a few that came to mind. She’d made up with Amara and even spoken with one of her sons she hadn’t talked to in years and none of that even touched on the space she’d made for Amara to move in just before Christmas.

There was paint on her hands, a dried rust that cracked and flaked when she spread her fingers. A deep green dappled the tips of her fingers and there was a charcoal gray on the tops of her hands, neither colours she ever really used. She could see the canvas out of the corner of her eye and her heart began to race as she stared straight ahead, terrified of what she’d done.

The last time she’d painted and been unaware of it, they’d been burnt to a crisp in the backyard.

“Mom, what are you are you still doing up?”

Grace nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Cas’ voice, leg hitting a table and knocking a cup of brushes to the floor. She turned on her stool, leaning down to collect the fallen supplies. Maybe her heart wouldn’t be so loud in her ears if she bent down.

“It’s not that late, it’s fine.” She mumbled, setting the cup back on the table.

“It’s like one in the morning and I didn’t hear you come down here so I don’t know how long you’ve been here.”

Grace swallowed thickly, shaking her head in disbelief. She reached for a stray palette knife, using the edge to scrape the dried paint off of her skin. It was easier to focus on that then Cas. She could lie but there wasn’t really a point, not with Cas.

“I don’t remember coming down here and I really don’t remember painting whatever’s on that canvas so I can’t tell you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. “Is it another one of the paintings about Anna?”

“Don’t want to look at it, couldn’t tell you what’s on it.”

Cas thought for a moment before he shuffled in, concern evident. His mother’s paintings coincided with his dreams and he hadn’t had a dream in weeks which meant he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping for the next few days. He stopped beside his mother, hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe you should get cleaned up and try to sleep? I can clean up in here if you’d like.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it. I should look at the painting, I’ll probably end up painting something else if I don’t.”

Cas nodded, deciding he wanted to see what his mother had painting almost as much as she didn’t want to. They turned at the same time, staring at the painting in front of them.

A man took up the bulk of the canvas, his broad shoulders and large frame imposing. The scars on his hands stood stark white against the tumultuous background of muddied greens and browns. His face was what drew Cas’ attention, as intimately familiar as his nightmares. The slope of his nose, the squareness of his jaw and the beady little eyes, all of it screamed that he was the councilor. He was Arthur.

Grace, on the other hand, was staring wide eyed at what was behind the councilor.

The figure moved like smoke, a red mist curling around the councillor. It seemed to concentrate around his head and his chest, the smoke almost pouring into or from his mouth and his nose. What startled Grace was threefold: first, the solid red claws that dug into the man’s shoulders, secondly, the deep black eyes that stared out from behind the man with a deliberate malice, and thirdly, the face of her ex-husband staring directly into her soul.

“That’s the councilor.” Cas mumbled. “The one who killed Anna’s husband.”

Grace stared ahead blankly, shoulders beginning to shake. The emotional reaction was instinctual and she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop. Tears burned behind her eyes and she was helpless to stop them rolling down her face but she tried nonetheless, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to draw blood.

“Mom?”

“Give me a minute, sorry.” Grace choked out, still shaking.

Cas let go of her shoulder and stepped away to throw an old sheet over the canvas to cover it. His mind was racing with a million thoughts about the councilor and his dreams and why the man seemed so familiar outside of all of that. None of that mattered, not when his mother was having another nervous breakdown. He’d been unfortunate enough to witness the one after his father and he really didn’t want to see another one.

It was the wetness and the stinging in her palms that brought Grace back to reality, grounding her. She wiped her palms on her overalls before wiping at her eyes, chest still heaving. As the shock wore off, the embarrassment and shame began to set in and she wished that Cas had never come downstairs in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just wasn’t expecting to see him.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “The councilor isn’t new, he’s been in my dreams for months.”

But it wasn’t the councilor. His face wasn’t quite right and the eyes didn’t quite fit, not in the way they should’ve. Cas thought back and the blood drained from his face. He knew who it was but he was confused and horrified and couldn’t seem to process it.

“We both know who that is.” Grace said tiredly, getting to her feet. “I think I need to take this out to the backyard and burn it.”

Cas shook his head, mind racing faster than he could comprehend. The pieces were beginning to fall into place and he didn’t fully understand it yet.

“Don’t, not yet. I um, I need you to help me look for something.’ He mumbled. “It’s the research I did, the genealogy stuff. I need you to go through it.”

“I’m not in the mood for that right now, Castiel.”

“It’s important, I swear. It has to do with the painting, with all of this, I think. Please.”

Grace sighed, shoulders sagging. “Fine. Give me a few minutes please.”

Knowing his mother was agreeing to help made Cas feel marginally better and he walked out of the room, heading towards the dining room that had become the home base for his genealogy project. Half of the table was devoted to the Novak side of the family and the other half to the Thatcher side. He tried to rearrange the messy papers into some semblance of a timeline that his mother would be able to understand.

It took her about twenty minutes but Grace was shuffling into the dining room. She switched into a long nightshirt, had cleaned and bandaged her hands, and had a bottle of wine in one of them. The cork was out and she took a big swig before settling beside Cas.

“I don’t promise I’m going to remain sober for long so I hope we find what you’re looking for.”

“We’re looking for a picture or a name or both in these files. The photo’s going to look like that painting, just with a couple scars on the face and I think the name is Arthur. Not sure what it means yet but it’s important.”

“There’s no photo of your father in there, is there?”

Cas shook his head. “Made sure there wasn’t. We all know what he looks like. I’ll take that side of the family if you want to take your side.”

“Alright.”

With their mission in the air, the pair got down to it. Cas knew there wasn’t anyone with the specific name or that specific look in the last five generations so he didn’t even look there, starting further back with plans of back-tracking even further. The photos were getting grainier and grainer and when Cas hit the early 1800’s, they stopped altogether. By then it was photocopies and organized prints of the family trees and census information and journal entries. It took him an hour to get to the 1800s and that’s when he stopped to check on Grace.

She was scanning and flipping through all of the pages on her side, seemingly farther back than Cas was. It was all Faith’s good work and organization that had gotten her that far that quickly but Cas couldn’t be mad at that. He could see the wine bottle was about half empty and thought about moving it away from Grace but decided against it. If anyone deserved to drink after painting a horrific portrait of their abusive ex-husband, it was her.

“Find anything yet?” he asked, planning on giving his hands a much needed break from paper shifting.

“Related to that, no. I’m a little distracted though.”

“Thinking about dad?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, leaning against the table.

“I’ve just been thinking about what would have happened if I had left your father when I first thought about it. It would’ve been impossible to manage I think, even though Amara would probably have stayed and helped, but it would’ve spared both of us so much pain and suffering.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, just so you know. You never screamed at me or forced me into Church or made me feel like I couldn’t be myself, not like he did. Sure, the whole I like women thing was jarring but that’s fine. You were a victim as much as I was, more than me actually, and that’s it.”

Grace glanced at Cas, offering him a tired smile. “I love you, sweetheart, so much. I’m so proud of you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

“Enough of this mushy stuff, I don’t need to cry again.” She said, turning back to the papers. “I’ve hit the 1700s and my eyes are starting to glaze over.”

Cas nodded in agreement and turned back to his papers, trying to take a closer look at everything he hadn’t sifted through yet. The 1800s and then the 1700s didn’t prove fruitful and his head was pounding by the time he got to the 1600s an hour later. At that point it was census information and journal entries and Cas nearly missed what he was looking for. It only hit him when he dropped a paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, eyes widening.

“Holy shit…”

“What is it?” Grace asked quickly, her own treasures laid out in front of her.

Cas didn’t say anything as he set the papers out on the empty space remaining on the table, a photocopy of a sketch next to a photocopy of a census record from somewhere around the 1620s.The sketch was unmistakable, the scars on the face matching those of the councilor that Cas couldn’t seem to stop dreaming about.

Grace went pale when she saw the sketch, practically white knuckling her bottle of wine. “What the fuck- how? That’s not-“

“No, it’s not dad. It’s his great grandfather several times over and it’s the councilor.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve seen him enough to know that that drawing is accurate. His name is Arthur, I heard it in a dream and it says it right here in the census too.”

“Well how does he fit into all of this?” She asked, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’ve never painted him before, I don’t know the first thing about him.”

Cas sighed, trying to figure out the best way to explain everything in a way that didn’t make him seem completely crazy. He didn’t understand all of it himself either. It felt like he had three quarters of the puzzle but he was missing the final piece.

“He had it out for Anna, said she was a witch. I don’t know why he hated her but he did. He um, he made her kill her husband and then something went wrong.”

“What do you mean something went wrong?”

Cas took the bottle of wine from his mother, hoping the bitter taste would mask the bile rising in his throat. He hadn’t let himself think about the dream since it had happened but now it was relevant and the memory was flooding back. His skin burned from where he remembered the councilor's touch and there was an icy cold feeling stirring in his stomach.

“There was um, there was something in there with her. He made her do things and then it felt wrong and she was screaming but it wasn’t her screaming but it wasn’t me either.”

Grace frowned, picking up on the shift in energy. The anxiety was palpable and Cas looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. Something had happened and it worried her. He mentioned something else and Grace already knew what it was, eyes drifting towards the studio where the painting sat covered.

“There’s nothing we can do about that right now, not if we’re clearly missing that last piece of information.” She said, opening her arms if Cas wanted a hug. “I think we should get through the rest of these papers, get through this bottle of wine, and then try to get some sleep again.”

Cas leaned in for a quick hug, allowing himself the quickest moment of comfort before he was pulling away and trying to get through the rest of the papers. He was trying to get through what was left but his eyes were glazing over and his mind was elsewhere. The touch of the councilor wasn’t leaving his skin and no amount of thinking of being touched by someone he actually wanted to touch him wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.

Grace continued to search and it took her another half hour before she reached the end of the documents, leaning in closer to get a look at what seemed like a weird marking on one of the pages. The names were so faded they were hard to decipher so she squinted, trying to figure them out. One name stuck out in particular.

“That’s interesting.” She mumbled.

Cas perked up, shuffling over to her. “What’s interesting?”

“See that name in the corner of the page, the one by that weird marking. Well that’s what I was going to name you if you were a girl.”

Cas stared at the name on the page, clearly curious.

Temperance Thatcher

The name was familiar and Cas pursed his lips, trying to figure out where he’d seen it before. It wasn’t any of his friends and it wasn’t any of his classmates, not that he really knew all of them. He didn’t have any current relatives with that name. Maybe it was a book but that didn’t feel right either.

“I’ve heard that name before, not sure where though.” He mumbled. “Why on earth would you want to give me a name like that? Not that Castiel is much better.”

“It’s kind of been a tradition in the family to name the women after virtues and graces. I don’t know when it started but it’s a thing. I mean, I’m Grace and then there’s Faith and then it goes into Chastity and Hope and so on and so on.”

“It kind of looks like Temperance is where it started so maybe we should find out more about her.” Cas suggested, eyes scanning the paper.

There was no sign of Anna Milton or Theodore Milton which did little to still the uneasiness constantly brewing in Cas’ stomach. It didn’t help that Arthur Novak was staring him directly in the face both in paper and canvas form.

Of course his ancestor was going to be a homicidal fanatic, it just fit. The roots were rotten and the disease had spread to his father too. They’d cut the branch off though and Cas prayed that he hadn’t been infected by it. He looked like his father but he’d be damned if he turned out like him too.

“I was planning on visiting Rowena and Amara tomorrow when I get off work, we could talk to them then. If you want to come with me, that is.”

Cas thought about it for a moment before nodding his head. “Yeah, I’ll come. I was going to hang with Dean after our English class anyway.”

Grace smiled softly, pleased that Cas was getting out of the house. She liked Dean, thought he was sweet and funny in an offbeat manner, so she was a strong encourager of any time they spent together. It was impossible to look at Cas and see him as the same boy from September. Sure it was partially the traumatic dreams but it was also getting rid of his father and getting to know Dean.

“Great. Now I don’t know about you but it’s four in the morning and the wine is just giving me a headache so I’d really like to get some sleep. Work starts early and dear God I love my students but they’re draining.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning mom.”

Cas left the papers where they were, fully intending on reorganizing them the next day, and climbed the stairs to get to his room. His eyelids were heavy and his limbs were tingling which meant he practically fell into his bed. Despite his body’s insistence on falling asleep, his brain was wide awake and racing.

He couldn’t get Temperance out of his head. Her name was too familiar to be a coincidence but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. Hopefully Rowena and Amara would have the answer he was looking for.

Chapter Text

Dean felt the rope around his wrists before he saw them, the material thick and coarse as it rubbed against his skin. His arms ached from holding his position, arms outstretched on either side of him as if he was preaching a sermon to the masses. There was rope around his middle and it was too tight, the skin white and the muscle pulsing beneath. He felt it on his ankles too, feet separated but hanging side by side.

Trying to move proved futile as the rope tightened, skin on his wrist ripping open with a wet heat. The blood dripped, coating the rope and making it slick. His feet were slowly turning purple as blood pooled in them and the muscle spasms grew nearly unbearable.

It was only when Dean looked up that he realized he was fucked.

Darkness surrounded him save for a single fluorescent bulb shining pale yellow light down on a figure in the chair. Something about the figure wasn’t quite right, hands too long and torso too short. It looked like someone had tried to copy a human and failed. The figure moved, a jerky start as it sat up and revealed its face.

It was Cas but it wasn’t. It wasn’t Not-Cas either, Dean didn’t think, the mannerisms just a little too off to make sense. There was a sinister air to the smile that was all teeth.

“You’re bleeding.”

Dean’s stomach turned at the delight in its echoing voice.

It rose to its feet and studied Dean with a frightening intensity, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Bones cracked and crunched as the creature shifted its appearance, bumps and ridges rippling under the skin. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed back the vomit.

When he opened them, Not-Cas was standing in front of him with his usual grin. He ran a hand down Dean’s arm, dipping his fingers into the blood before putting the fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“I think you need to start taking iron pills.”

Dean shivered, anxiety building in his muscles and fear in his stomach. He tried to wrench an arm free from the rope but all it did was tighten more, sending another gush of blood dripping down his arm.

“What do you want?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Not-Cas blinked for a moment before he was holding Dean’s chin with two fingers, tipping it up to stare him in the eye. His eyes were too blue, the pupil so black it threatened to consume everything and Dean knew in that moment he was prey.

“I want you to see your future, Dean. To see your future with Castiel.”

“I know our future, you don’t need to show me.”

Not-Cas grinned again, letting go of Dean’s chin. He was almost arrogant in his confidence, his fluid gestures so smooth Dean felt like he was watching a simulation. Not-Cas sat himself in a chair, took a deep breath, and let his mannerisms change.

His face softened, his posture turned in on itself, and his eyes became the blue Dean knew all too well. The softness in Cas’ voice was present too and Dean was already trying to wake himself up. Not-Cas was Cas and Dean didn’t like the feelings it stirred in his stomach.

“You like me, Dean, which is good. It’s good that you’ve picked someone so forgiving, so understanding. But it won’t end well and you know it.”

Dean swallowed thickly, eyes widening when he felt the first jerk of the rope on his hands. It pulled his upper body forward and his legs followed suit, the rope moving him like a human marionette.

“See I’m scared of being touched, afraid of what your hands can do.” Not-Cas said, choking up with emotion. “I know how angry you can get, how hair-trigger it is. It reminds me of my father.”

Dean moved forward again, muscles straining as he continued to fight against the rope. They were digging so hard he could feel the muscle tearing in his wrists, the tendons straining. But still he moved forward.

Not-Cas shifted in the chair, an open vulnerable stance.

“I’m going to let you touch me and the entire time I am going to be so afraid that you’re going to hurt me, that you’re a monster. I don’t love myself so how can I expect you to love me.”

“You’re lying! I’m not like th-”

The rope tightened around Dean’s neck and choked off his words. He could hardly breathe and he gasped for air, struggling like a wild animal caught in a trap.

“It’s time you learn the truth of what you are.”

There were tears streaming down Dean’s face and his chest ached as he tried to gasp for breath. It was only when he saw the malicious grin that he realized he’d really fucked up. With a swift motion Not-Cas dug into his arm and ripped off a chunk of bloody flesh.

He took a moment to smile at Dean before grabbing his jaw and shoving the flesh inside. Dean gagged and tried to spit it out but Not-Cas was stronger and held his mouth shut, pinching off his nostrils with the other hand. With no other option, Dean swallowed.

The flesh was slimy, almost bitter, and warm as it slid down his throat and all at once the ropes were gone and he was on his hands and knees on the floor. His chest heaved with effort as he tried to collect his breath, staring up at what was in front of him.

The creature was blood red, sharp talons handing from long fingered hands. It was lithe, with defined planes and a shape that would’ve been pretty if it wasn’t so horrific. Claws and colour aside, it had a mouth full of razor sharp teeth and its lips curled into the grin Not-Cas so often wore. Jet black eyes stared at Dean and when it spoke, Dean felt it in his bones.

“Look at what you’ve become.”

A searing pain shot through Dean’s arm as the bone cracked beneath his skin. He felt the bones in his hands shifting and cracking, his pained scream echoing as a bone broke through the skin of his wrist. His skin was hot to the touch and sweat beaded on his forehead but he’d never felt so cold in his life.

Dean’s spine rippled beneath the skin and he screamed again when his fingernails and teeth began to fall out. They clattered onto the ground in a bloody pile and then Dean felt his organs change. It was an intense heat at first before he felt the liquid in his body, not a single solid thing remaining inside of him.

He needed to get out of his skin, out of his body, and he needed to do it now.

Dean grabbed at the flap of skin on his wrist and began to tug. It peeled away from the muscle with a sickening rip and blood pooled on top of the muscle. He started with the arms and then moved to his torso, peeling off the skin sweater as his bones continued to break and repair themselves. Dean tried to scream but his vocal chords had changed and nothing came out. He screamed and cried and ripped off his flesh until he was exhausted, collapsing in a pile of his mess.

The creature that was Not-Cas but wasn’t knelt down and extended a hand, an antique mirror suddenly appearing.

“You’re so close to perfection, nearly there. Look at what you’ve become.”

Dean brought his eyes up to the mirror and immediate wished he hadn’t.      

~

Cas couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in Saint Mary’s Church.

If he had to guess, it would’ve been around September. It almost made him feel guilty but it didn’t quite hit. Not the way it should’ve. He didn’t so much regret the exit from the religion he didn’t want in the first place so much as he mourned the loss of the community he’d had. They had been everything and now they weren’t.

Something was wrong though and he knew it as soon as he set foot inside the church.

It was dark for one, the chandeliers and lanterns off and hanging uselessly from the ceiling. The pews on either side of him were empty too. He sidestepped a stray hymnal before bending down to pick it up, brushing his hand on his pants when he realized how dusty everything was. The stained glass windows were dark, shards of glass hanging from the window he’d fallen through months ago.

None of that mattered though because he glanced up and saw something he’d never seen before.

The Altar was cleared of its ornamentation. There were no cloth coverings, candles, or book in sight. Cas saw the familiar tiling at the front but his attention was quickly caught by something else. The chandelier hanging above the Altar roared to life, candles casting flickering light down onto the altar and the individual sitting on top of it.

“What the Hell?” Cas whispered, eyes widening.

Sitting on the Altar, arm resting on the leg propped up and close to his chest was Cas. But it wasn’t him, not really. He had the same hair and the same appearance but that was where it ended. His posture was wrong, too relaxed and self-assured to really be his own. It was his eyes that really caught Cas by surprise. They were too blue-black, too deep and hungry and predatory.

“We’re in a house of God so I’d watch our mouth if I were you.” The other him said as he slid off of the altar, smoothing down his sweater and jeans.

Cas took a step back, an uncertain rush spreading through his spine. The voice was his, the gravel undeniable, but it still didn’t seem right.

“If you’re me and I’m you then you know exactly what I’m about to do.”

Quick as a whistle, both versions of Cas finger gunned at each other. If it wasn’t coincidental enough, they both used two fingers and then awkwardly stepped back a few paces.

“Are you happy now?” The other Cas said, running a hand through his hair. “If you really want, you can call me the other Cas or Not-Cas. Dean likes that one.”

“What do you mean Dean likes that one?”

Not-Cas shrugged, sliding his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as he leaned against the altar. “He dreams about us, has for months. You should see the shit he wants us to do to him.”

Cas’ uneasiness was cut off by his inherent curiosity. It hadn’t occurred to him that Dean would dream about him, much less what he would dreaming about. He didn’t consider himself sexy so it felt weird that Dean did. Not that that really mattered.

“If you’re me and I’m you then how would you know what he’s dreaming about if I don’t know what he’s dreaming about?”

“And now you’re going to make me draw a picture for us because apparently we’re too dense to figure this out on our own.” Not-Cas huffed freeing his hands from his pockets. “Think of me like an extension of you, your other half if you will.”

“Like Jekyll and Hyde?”

Not-Cas nodded his head. “Yeah, that works I guess. I’m the part of us that you’ve suppressed for so long, the part of us that has wants and desire. You’re meek and quiet and unassured and I’m not. I’m confident and sexy and I know what we want, who we want.”

Cas pursed his lips, uneasiness returning as Not-Cas strode toward him. The confidence in his stride was undeniable, his posture strong and assured. Even his expression, the smug satisfied smile and knowing eyes, felt both familiar and alien to Cas. He wanted to be like that but there was something wrong with it. It was almost too much.

Not-Cas clapped a hand on Cas’ shoulder, eye to eye with his counterpart. He scanned Cas’ face before leaning back, tugging his lip between his teeth. “You’re so close to letting me in Cas, to letting us become one. You almost let me in on Thanksgiving, what stopped you?”

Cas stepped back, trying to shake the feeling of revulsion from where Not-Cas had touched his shoulder. Something still wasn’t sitting quite right with him but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

“If you’re me then you know what stopped me. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to myself.”

“God you’re such a fucking stick in the mud.” Not-Cas muttered, unable to help the roll of his eyes. “We’ve got self-esteem issues, well- really only you have self-esteem issues but it’s for no reason. Look at us Cas, we’re fucking gorgeous and we know that Dean knows it too! Do you wanna know what he’s been dreaming about?”

Curiosity bubbled up again and Cas nodded his head. The self-hatred was immediate.

There was a moment of silence and then Not-Cas was no longer himself. He was Dean, through and through, the bleach blond hair with brown roots, the constellation of freckles, the stupid little earring Cas thought was so endearing. Everything about him down to the scar on the top knuckle of his left middle finger and the indent in his cupid’s bow was the same. Even the slightly twang of Dean’s voice was replicated perfectly.

“I’ve been dreaming about so many things.” Not-Dean hummed, sliding his arms around Cas’ neck and pulling their bodies flush with one another. “So many things I want you to do with me, to do to me.”

Cas swallowed thickly, eyes flitting from Not-Dean’s eyes to his lips. “What um, what do you want me to do?”

Not-Dean dipped his head down, lips pressing soft kisses to Cas’ neck and jaw as his hands slid down to Cas’ hips. “I want you to go further with me, Cas. I want you to wrap your pretty little lips around my cock and blow me until I shoot off into your mouth. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

Cas groaned despite himself, knees weakening at the thought. Of course he’d thought about what it would actually be like to touch Dean like that he’d never really entertained it until now. It wouldn’t hurt to try it now. Not when this was a dream and controlled by his subconscious.

“What else do you want?” Cas asked, sliding a hand down to rest on Not-Dean’s ass. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience here.”

“Give in to your desires and sleep with me, that’s all I want.”

The voice wasn’t quite Dean’s in that moment and it wasn’t quite Cas’ either, a strange guttural mix. Cas felt his blood run cold and then he was pulling away from Dean, heart thudding in his chest. Not-Dean wasn’t Dean and he wasn’t Not-Cas either, not the closer Cas looked.

His eyes were the wrong shade of green, too emerald and empty to be Dean’s. Then there was the gait, a slight sway that felt forced and mechanical. Not-Dean knew it too because he suddenly wasn’t even trying to be convincing, hands shoved in his pockets as he stared coldly at Cas.

“Why is it that you’re only observant when I don’t want you to be.”

Cas swallowed hard, heart jumping up into his throat. The hairs on his arms were raised and goosebumps prickled his skin, matching how cold his blood felt. Whatever he was looking at wasn’t good. It was familiar though and that made it worse.

“I know you from somewhere.” Cas mumbled, hands clenching into fists as they hung at his sides.

“Do you now, really? Wherever from?”

Cas took a step back, fright quickly overtaking him. Not-Dean’s voice was sinister, the glee in it enough to turn Cas pale. He could his nails digging into palms and he was praying the pain would wake him up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in.

“You’re going to let me in, Castiel. And then you’re going to let me out.”

Not-Dean took a step forward and black talons erupted from the tips of his fingers, blood dripping onto the marbled floor. Bones crunched and cracked as he seemed to fold in on himself, collapsing onto the floor with a low moan of pain. Not-Dean’s head snapped up with a sharp sound and then Cas was staring in wide eyed terror. The eyes that stared back at him were black and beady, deep and dark like a shark’s.

“400 years I have waited.” Not Dean said, his voice echoing and buzzing with dissonant tones. His smile widened as the first of his teeth wiggled and fell from his mouth, blood coating the sharp spikes that replaced them. “400 years of torment for the key and you’re it, Castiel.”

The shock of hearing his name sent Cas scrambling into motion and he turned to run, unable to hear anything but the blood roaring in his ears. He ran and ran but the church corridor only seemed to grow, stretching out impossibly longer and longer with every pounding beat of his heart. His foot caught on the edge of the frayed carpet and he went flying forward, sprawling out onto the floor and knocking the wind from his lungs.

Not-Dean was still racing towards Cas but he was shedding his skin as he ran, globs of flesh sloughing off in sticky puddles on the floor. The muscle beneath was red with blood and tensed as Not-Dean ran faster and faster, his features becoming less and less human. By the time he reached Cas, there was nothing human about him.

“You’ve let me in, he’s let me in. There’s nothing you can do now but surrender.”

Cas tried to scramble away but the creature had his hands pinned above his head, thick claw big enough to encircle both of his hands. As it bore down on him, the pieces clicked into place and Cas was horrified by the realization.

The councilor, the painting, the thing behind him. The thing on top of him.

“Get away from me!” He cried, struggling to get out from under the creature. It was the desperate struggle of a wild animal caught by its leg in a metal trap.

The creature smiled, if you could call its toothy expression a smile, and then opened its mouth. A thick red smoke poured out and coated Cas’ face. He tried to hold his breath but the weight of the creature was too much. Cas gasped for breath and the smoke invaded his body, forcing itself down his throat and into his lungs. As Cas’ vision faded to a hazy red, the creature’s rang out clearer than ever.

“Don’t you see, silly little human. I am you.”

Chapter Text

“Well look who’s emerging from his cave.” Benny said as he heard the door to Dean’s room creak open for practically the first time since the December exam season had started. “You finally run out of your snack stash?”

“No, I’ve still got like three boxes of crackers.”

“Going out for a study date then?”

“Date, yeah. Study, no.”

Benny made a small noise of approval, stepping back to take a look at Dean. “Have you been sleeping? You kind of look like shit dude, no offense.”

“I’m about 85% caffeine and 15% pure spite at this point so no, not really. Pretty sure you wouldn’t be either if you had to take fluid mechanics. I need like a 90 on that exam so I’m straight fucked unless he curves it.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying then?”

“I need a break before I bash my head into my wall and give myself a conky boi so I don’t have to write the exam. Also I kind of just maybe want to see Cas again. It’s been like two weeks and I miss him.”

“You really like him, that’s good.” Lee said as he wandered out of his room, the conversation intriguing him. “Cute outfit too. You make the sweater that tight on purpose?”

“My sweater’s not tight.”

“I can see your muscles bulge every time you move your arms. The sweater’s tight, Dean. Not that Cas is going to complain.”

Dean mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, trying to control the flush of his cheeks. He did like the idea of Cas noticing and being into it but it didn’t feel so great when it was being pointed out.

“What are you two doing anyway?” Lee asked, wrapping his arms around Benny from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Going to a Christmas market. He said he wanted to go and I know his mom’s setting up a booth there too. There’s this really great Hungarian restaurant there too and I’ve been dying for decent cabbage rolls.”

“Hopefully you can find some mistletoe and get a good kiss.” Benny said, leaning back against Lee. “None of us even know if you’ve kissed yet.”

“We have, did it on thanksgiving. It was nice.”

Lee held up a hand to high-five Dean, grinning proudly at him. “Gonna get a little more from him?”

“I’m not trying to rush him, he’s not the most confident. It’ll happen when it happens and that’s really it.”

“Do what you gotta do man. Have fun today, tell him we say hi.”

Dean nodded his head before grabbing his keys and heading out. It was cool that day and Dean felt it in his bones, particularly his knees. They creaked and cracked with every step but he ignored it as he slid into the car, the heat a welcome relief. The market wasn’t far and Dean was thankful for it, even more thankful when he found a parking spot close to the front. He reached for the wrapped gift on the seat and tucked it into his pocket before he was heading inside.

The vendors were in the midst of setting up their booths and Dean knew Grace was tucked in the back corner as per her request. He made his way over, trying to run his fingers through his hair in order to keep it tame. No amount of product was going to tame it with the way it was now.

Grace was there when Dean arrived, neatly arranging her prints and charms on the grey folding table in front of her. She looked exhausted but lit up when she saw Dean, stepping out from behind the table so she could hug him.

“Dean, hi!” She smiled, stepping back to take a look at him. “You look great, I love your sweater. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay, just really tired. Finals are kind of kicking my ass but what else is new.”

“Oh Cas has been whining about those all month.” Grace chuckled, returning to her prints. “He’s around here somewhere, I’m sure of it. He’s been busy so I’m glad you two can spend the day together.”

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah, me too. Anything I can do to help you set up?”

“Oh you don’t have to help, I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“It’s no problem, really. I’m just standing around anyway and you do look kind of tired.”

Grace sighed before gesturing to a large box she had yet to unpack. “I’ve got some original on canvas paintings in there I was hoping to sell today. You can unpack them and set them up on the easels if you’d like.”

Dean turned away from her to unpack the box and set up the paintings, curious as to what they looked like. He knew enough about her to expect the themes of religion, gore, and mythicality to be present but he wasn’t expecting the last painting he unboxed. It was the skin that first caught his eye, moreso the lack of it than anything else. There was pure muscle, red and bloody, on the outside of the creature and the more he pulled it out the more he saw. Gooey piles of fleshy mush pooled on the bottom of the canvas but Dean was too busy staring as the figure on the canvas skinned itself. It was clear the bones were breaking and shifting, bumps and ridges practically ripping through the canvas.

“Where did you um- how did you think of this one?” He asked, trying to swallow down the sudden anxiety in his voice.

“Same way I think of all of my paintings, came to me in a dream.” Grace replied. “Cas didn’t like that one either, won’t even look at it. Not that I really blame him. It is unsettling.”

“If you don’t sell it, can I have it?”

Grace raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment before nodding her head. It didn’t make a lick of sense that Dean wanted it but she didn’t want it either so there was one good option. She finished setting up the prints she had made before pulling up a chair, taking a seat behind her booth.

Cas came around the corner a few minutes later looking decidedly not like himself. His hair was tamed, his sweater and pants were tighter than usual, and he’d swapped out the beige trench coat for a navy blue one that was just slightly too tight on his arms. Everything about it was doing wonders for Dean and he felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Cas smile.

Cas came to a stop in front of Dean and thought for a moment before rising to his tiptoes. He kissed Dean’s cheek, paused a moment, and pecked him quickly on the lips before stepping away.

“Hi Dean.” He smiled, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Dean blinked slowly, his brain nothing but tv static. Cas, painfully shy and insecure Cas, had kissed him in public. Not only that; he’d kissed him in front of his mother. It seemed so out of left field that Dean knew he should probably be concerned but he wasn’t. He was too busy being thrilled with the sudden progress.

“I guess you really missed me.” Dean mumbled sheepishly.

“Well yeah, of course I did. I see you helped mom with the rest of the setup, thanks.”

“It was no biggie. Gave us a few to catch up anyway. You ready to go though?”

Cas nodded his head and reached for Dean’s hand, eager to hold it as he so often did. Holding Dean’s hand, kissing his cheek, sticking close to him, all of it was part of Cas’ largely unconscious plan to get what he wanted. He wasn’t sure when the plan had started or when he’d even started to think about it, it had just showed up. All he knew was that he was tired of being scared and being in the shadows.

“You look really nice today, Dean.” Cas smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I really like the sweater, the blue suits you.”

“Thanks. Haven’t seen you in that sweater before, where’d you get it?”

“Back of your closet, well technically from your mom. She found it when I stopped by the other day, knew it wouldn’t fit you, and said I could take it. I wasn’t about to say no either.”

“I wondered why it looked kind of familiar. Looks better on you, that’s for sure. I think you should wear red more often.”

Cas smiled and shuffled closer to Dean, seeking the warmth. “I really just think I should wear your clothes more often.”

“Gonna sleep over more then?” Dean asked, speaking quickly to avoid an awkward pause. He’d have to ask Thea when she had time to teach Cas how to flirt so well. “Because I really wouldn’t be mad at that.”

“Well, Amara’s moved in now so maybe I will. Glad mom’s happier but I really don’t like having to hear them have sex, it’s just not my cup of tea.”

“Well you know where I live so just come on over whenever. I made room on the bed for you.”

“Don’t tell me you got rid of all of your stuffed animals. I love those little guys.”

Dean shook his head, stopping at the first of the vendors. He didn’t recognize the lady running the table but he knew the products, knew that his mother used them in her skincare routine and was running low. With the items secured in his reusable bag, Dean led Cas forward.

“I just put them on my bed at home, that’s all.” Dean replied. “Not that I’ve been sleeping much, been too busy studying for this fluid mechanics final. Definitely won’t be sleeping tonight, gotta cram.”

“You want company while you study?”

“You gonna quiz me on all my flashcards?” Dean chuckled. “But yeah, I’d really love the company if you’re not too busy.”

“My last exam was the 14^th so yeah, I’m completely and totally free to hangout all night.”

Dean beamed, suddenly more excited to study for the final. In any other circumstance he’d be pulling out all the stops and trying to get handsy but he didn’t think that would be happening later. He had to study, for one, but he just wasn’t sure about everything else.

He’d been waking up with unexplainable bruises, big ugly marks on his arms and legs that he didn’t have before he fell asleep. Couple that with the dreams that left him so anxious he didn’t want to leave his room and it was quickly becoming a problem. Even now he could feel the anxiety, furthered by the feeling of his hand in Cas’. All Dean could think about was his hands wrapped around Cas’ throat, choking the life from him.

“Hey, earth to Dean..” Cas said, butting his head against Dean’s shoulder. “You got kind of quiet, everything okay?”

“Totally fine, just thinking about the final. Sorry, I know I’m not making good conversation.” Dean mumbled clumsily, trying to keep the suspicion off of him.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. I can talk if you don’t feel like it.”

Dean thought for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. It would be a lot easier to focus on keeping himself upright if he didn’t have to think about conversation. Plus there was the added bonus of being able to listen to the pleasant gravel of Cas’ voice.

Cas started talking about exams for the first little bit of their walk, walking Dean through the insanity of how many final papers and written essay questions he’d been subjected to. He talked about the unfairness of the prompts, about how much he hated having to use mla for every little thing, and about how one of his professors would only let them write the exam in blue pen.

Dean did his best to listen and added a few little comments every so often, only stopping at a booth when something caught his eye. Listening to Cas talk was nice and it was made better when Cas finally stopped them near a set of tables.

“I thought we could just sit here and talk for a little bit. My legs are getting pretty tired and you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Dean sat himself down before the ever growing feeling of tingling in his limbs forced him to sit, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I like the way you think. Is it really that obvious that I look like I’m dying?”

“Dying, no. Incredibly tired, yes. You’ve got pretty big dark circles and I know you well enough to know you’re probably not eating well either. Am I right?”

“Yeah.”

Cas leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute, weighing his options. He wanted to spend the day with Dean and have one of those cute Christmas dates Thea always raved about. But that didn’t seem like it was in the cards. That really didn’t leave a lot of options that he did like.

“I know we’re supposed to spend the day together but I really don’t like how tired you look and we both know I’m not strong enough to pick you up if you decide to take a nap so I’ve got a different proposal in mind.”

“What’re you thinking?”

“I think you should go home and get some sleep because you need it and then I’ll show up around supper with takeout. That way you actually eat food and then you’ve got me to help you study afterwards.”

“You got all dressed up and took time out of your day to see me though, so I feel a little guilty about leaving.” Dean frowned, chewing on his lip.

Cas thought for a moment before he was reaching out across the table to hold Dean’s hands, brushing his thumbs across the back of them. It was a simple gesture but it was one he was comfortable with, one he could see had an immediate effect on Dean. “You’ll just have to make it up to me when I come see you later.”

“How do you want me to do that?” Dean asked, tone tired but playful.

Cas paused again before another smile was tugging at his lips. This one didn’t quite feel like him either, just teetering slightly too far into the realm of confidence for Dean to be used to it. He took a long slow look at Dean, eyes flicking from his lips to his hands and then back up to meet his gaze.

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh, I uh- yeah, I’ll uh figure it out.” Dean mumbled, breaking the eye contact to stare down at their hands. He was still trying to get used to Cas knowing how to flirt and evidently he still had a ways to go. “Oh, I’ve got something for you before I leave. But you can’t open it until Christmas, so like three more days.”

“Save it for tonight, I can wait a little while longer. You want me to walk you to your car?”

Dean shook his head and thought for a moment before he pulled Cas’ hand in closer, kissing the top of it before letting it go. “It’s alright, I think I can manage the walk. I’ll see you around seven then?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Can’t wait.”

Dean smiled at Cas one more time before he was excusing himself and heading back towards his car. He hated himself for being so tired and obvious and getting the date cut short but he was grateful for it too. There was no way he would’ve made it all day. The couple hours he wouldn’t be with Cas would be a good break for him to rest and recharge. Recharging seemed important if Cas’ grins were any indication.

Cas made his way back to his mom’s booth after Dean had disappeared from view, clearly deep in thought over what would happen later that night. His eyes scanned the half empty table and then he offered her a small smile, plunking down in the chair beside her.

“Looks like sales have been really good today, you’re like half out of everything.”

“People really seem to love all the pomegranates in my paintings, well that and the supposed cannibalism metaphor.” Grace chuckled. “What happened to Dean? I thought you two were exploring the market today.”

“He hasn’t really been sleeping or eating cuz he’s got an exam tomorrow and he looked like he was about to pass out so I told him to go home and get some rest. I said I’d come over later with supper and help him study, maybe spend the night.”

“Oh, well I hope he can get some sleep and feel better. It’s nice of you to offer to help him study, I just hope you’re not too distracting.”

Cas shook his head, grinning to himself for a moment. He knew the plan for that night and planned to keep it largely to himself. “I’ll distract him after he’s crammed his brain full of math and theory I don’t understand. I’ve been thinking about taking things further.”

“Please do not make me give you the sex talk in the middle of a holiday market.”

“Woah no, god no,” Cas said quickly, “Please don’t. I’ve heard enough from Thea and the internet, I really don’t need to hear more from you.”

Grace seemed relieved. She hadn’t wanted to talk with Cas about that, wasn’t entirely sure how she’d explain it all anyway. It was a little different with him and Dean than it would be with say her and Amara or even her and her ex-husband.

“Good. That’s probably more of an Amara conversation anyway.” She chuckled. “I’ll be alright here if you want to head home or grab food or something. Your aunt’s still at the university, I was planning on stopping by to check out what that mark we found means.”

“I was gonna stop by before I went to see Dean, her office is on my way to his dorm anyway. I can just ask if you’d rather go home and relax instead.”

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Yeah, absolutely. Get home and relax, maybe have a nice romantic dinner and whatever comes after that since I won’t be home for you to traumatize if I hear things.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, cheeks pink. “We are not that loud.”

“You absolutely are that loud but it’s fine. You’re happy so I really don’t mind.”

“Okay well, in the effort of not embarrassing me any further I think you should get out of here.”

Cas shook his head, amused by the conversation. He grabbed the bag he had stashed earlier, leaned in to give his mom a quick hug, and then headed out of the market. There really wasn’t a plan for what to do before seeing Dean so Cas decided the best thing to do was to pamper himself.

A shower, a change of clothes, a packed bag, and half a cup of tea later and Cas was heading back out the door. He spent the majority of the drive trying to figure out how he was going to motivate Dean to actually study and when he wasn’t thinking about that he was thinking he was busy thinking about the family tree.

Amara’s office was in complete disarray when he finally made it there, Cas pausing at the threshold when he caught a glimpse. There were photographs and papers taped to the walls, tacked to the corkboards, and shoved just about anywhere and everywhere they’d fit. Her whiteboard was covered in her looped cursive and Cas stepped inside to get a better look, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

“Unless you know the history of our town, that won’t make a lot of sense to you.” Said Rowena as she stepped into the office and slipped past Cas. “Thought your mom was coming down to get the answers from us.”

“She was until I told her I’d do it because I’m seeing Dean tonight and this is on my way to him. Also maybe said that her and Amara should have a nice dinner and then do whatever they want since I won’t be in the house.”

Amara appeared from behind Cas as well, slipping past him so she could take a seat at her cluttered desk. “And we absolutely will be taking advantage of that.”

Cas nodded his head, trying to pretend he wasn’t at least a little grossed out by the thought. They were happy and that’s really all that mattered. He tried to find an empty seat but came up short, instead moving a stack of books so he could sit. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do.

“Between our records and the ones your grandmother sent over, we’ve pretty much been able to track your lineage back to the early 1600’s which is relatively impressive given how badly most of the records were kept.” Rowena explained. “You wanted to know about that symbol that kept popping up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It stands for adoption, at least as far as we’re aware. Isn’t that right, Amara?”

Amara nodded her head. “I knew I’d seen the symbol before somewhere so I spent a few hours tearing through my papers and books to double check and it was right there. Looked at some modern records and family trees to confirm and it seems to match up.”

Cas groaned before he could stop himself, dropping his head into his hands. He hadn’t expected much from their findings but this was beyond frustrating. There never seemed to be a straight answer. If it wasn’t supernatural then it was adoption and if it wasn’t adoption then it was repression. God forbid it wasn’t a single one of those things but some new monster he’d have to rally and slay.

“You seem upset. Not the answer you were hoping for?”

“No, it really isn’t.” Cas answered, not bothering to lift his head to look at Rowena. “I’ve heard the name Temperance before and I know it’s important but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it and I swore that this would give me the answer.”

Amara frowned, standing up from her desk. She pushed the stack of books aside even further and sat down beside Cas, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll keep looking into all the Temperances in the area around that time, alright? I don’t promise we’ll find anything but I can see how important this is to you.”

Cas nodded his head, leaning against his aunt. The gesture wasn’t grand and he didn’t think it would really result in anything but he was thankful that she was offering. It meant more than he cared to admit.

“Since we’ve gave you what we have, I think it’s fair you give us something in return.” Rowena said, grinning. “I wanna hear about you and Dean. Been a while since I’ve seen either of you, even longer since I’ve read your auras or your tea leaves.”

“Yeah, tell us about your boyfriend. I did run into him in the grocery store the other day but we didn’t talk long.”

“There isn’t that much to tell. We’re doing really good and we’re really happy and I really like him. I’m going to see him tonight actually.”

“Planning on getting lucky?” Amara asked, her expression teasing and playful.

Cas shrugged, significantly less embarrassed by that question than he would’ve been four months ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer so much as it was that he didn’t entirely know how to answer it. He wanted to but it was more complicated than that. Dean had an exam the next day and even if he didn’t, Cas’ newfound confidence was only going to get him so far. Confidence alone wouldn’t get him through a blowjob.

“Depends on how much he studies and how much confidence I can manage. So doubtful anything’s gonna happen.”

“Well do what you have to do.” Rowena said. “I’m going home to your brother and Amara’s going home to your mom so off you go to see your boyfriend.”

“Well thanks for the answer that really doesn’t help but I guess is still helpful. I’ll see you guys later.”

With that Cas left and Rowena turned to Amara. She seemed amused and the older woman seemed just as amused with her nephew, shaking her head gently. “Something’s different about him, please tell me you notice it too.”

“Yeah, it is. He’s confident but not quite the way where it feels completely genuine.”

“Well, I’ll ask Grace about it tonight after dinner.” Amara said as she reached for her coat. “I’ll see you later, Rowena. Tell Gabriel I say hello.”

Rowena nodded and grabbed her own coat, following Amara out of her office after turning off the lights. She shut the door behind them and then headed home, deep in thought about the million things concerning Cas she hadn’t dared to voice to someone else.

Cas made the trek across campus relatively quickly and shuffled into Dean’s apartment like he practically owned the place, bag over his shoulder and bag of takeout and snacks in his other hand. He knew Benny and Lee would pop their heads out before Dean did so he was already prepared when he heard their voices.

“Dean’s bringing in the big guns to study for that exam, impressive.”

“Benny’s right but I’m more curious about the takeout bag. Bring any for us?” Lee asked.

Cas turned away for a moment and rifled through the bag, producing two takeout containers which he handed to the pair. “Obviously. Honey garlic boneless wing poutine for Benny and Cajun for you. Does this guarantee that Dean and I get privacy?”

“Dude’s been holed up in his room for weeks, so please go in there and get him to study or have actual social interaction.”

“What Benny means is yes, we’ll give you all the privacy you want. So have fun studying and be safe if you get up to other shit.”

Cas smiled and grabbed the takeout bag again, pushing his way into Dean’s room. He expected Dean to be in the midst of studying, furiously scribbling notes like he was a 13^th century monk privy to the thoughts of God, but that wasn’t what he found. Dean was passed out in his bed, curled up with the bunny stuffie he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of. The sheets were wrapped around him and Cas couldn’t help but smile.

He set the bag of takeout down on Dean’s desk and shimmied out of his jacket before he climbed into Dean’s bed. Cas thought about hitting Dean with a pillow or gently hitting him but decided against it altogether, coming up with a better solution.

“Dean, hey, wake up.” He murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead.

Dean stirred, grunting softly as he shifted towards Cas. “Five more minutes, ‘kay.”

“No, not five more minutes. I brought food since you probably haven’t eaten in a while and we both know you have to study.”

Dean mumbled something under his breath and shifted again, rolling onto his stomach before placing his face in Cas’ lap. It was warm and comfortable and he quite liked it.

“I don’t wanna study.” He complained.

Cas chuckled, reaching out to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know you don’t. Just get up and eat first, we can worry about studying after that. Sound good?”

Dean sighed before pulling himself away from Cas and sliding out of bed, legs nearly giving out. It was just from sleep, that’s what Dean told himself as he got up from his floor. He took a look at the bag before rifling through it, smile on his face when he pulled out the familiar container.

“I cannot believe you brought me a burger and the works.”

“I brought other snacks too but you’re not gonna get them until later.” Cas said, stretching out on Dean’s bed. “I’m gonna take a page out of the psychology students’ books and condition you to study.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, halfway through unwrapping his double bacon burger with extra pickles. “Are you gonna treat me like one of Pavlov’s dogs?”

Cas thought for a moment before he felt a surge of his newfound confidence. He decided to let it take over.

“Are you telling me that you want to be my bitch?”

Dean blinked slowly, brain and face overheating like a computer from the 90s. It didn’t help that he couldn’t exactly respond, mouth still full of burger. He thought about what he might say as he took another bite to give himself more time but none of the answers were satisfying. There was no way he could follow the path so laid out by his dreams but he couldn’t just say nothing either.

“You’ve got your mouth full, don’t worry about answering.” Cas chuckled, refusing to take the comment back even if the anxiety was returning again. “I’m warning you that I know absolutely nothing about fluid mechanics so you’re going to have to explain everything like you’re talking to a high schooler.”

“Do I get bonus points if you learn stuff too?”

Cas thought for a moment before nodding his head. “Tell you what, we’ll make a game of it. I’ll use your flashcards to quiz you about stuff and if you get it right then you have two options.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, curious. “Are you gonna tell me what the options are?”

“Nope. Get a flashcard right, pick one, and then you’ll find out.”

Dean climbed back onto his bed and sat beside Cas, reaching out to grab the flashcards and notes he’d already been working on. His notes were usually a mess of scrawling chicken scratch but he’d made these pretty, using different coloured pens and highlighters to make the points he needed to make.

“The flashcards are in order of chapter but I don’t really know if that’s how you wanna quiz me.”

Cas thought about it before he took the cards and shuffled them. The stack was thick in his hands and as he pulled the first card, he didn’t have a clue what it meant. He asked Dean to explain everything he could about microfluidics and then sat back.

Dean stumbled through a few minutes before he seemed to figure out what he wanted to say. Cas didn’t understand a word of it but he was content enough to sit there and listen to Dean ramble for a while. There was a certain tone to Dean’s voice, a pleasantness that made Cas’ knees weak.

“Did I get it all? Do I get a prize?” Dean asked when he had finished. He looked a bit like an impatient puppy, waiting eagerly.

“Pick your prize then. You’ve got A or B and that’s it.”

“Let’s go with A because that’s the grade I need to pass this.”

Cas turned away to reach into the bag he’d brought, pushing past his clothes and toiletries and pulling out a bag of skittles. He grabbed a few from the bag and dropped them into Dean’s open hand, offering him a small smile. Dean raised an eyebrow when he saw the skittles but ate them anyway.

“M’not complaining about being given skittles but this can’t be the only option that you have. You have to have something better than skittles.”

“Well,” Cas said as he scooted closer to lean against Dean. “You’ll just have to tell me about colloidal hydrodynamics and pick option B then.”

Dean huffed in annoyance before he wrapped an arm around Cas, pulling him closer and trying to get a sneak peek at the flashcards. He’d do anything he could to get a leg up and get to Cas’ option B. Cas noticed and pulled away from Dean, shaking his head with a small grin.

“You’re so cute, trying to get close to get a peek at the answers. That won’t fly with me though. So tell me about colloidal hydrodynamics or you’re not gonna get anywhere at all.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Get enough of the right answers and the right option and it won’t just be my bargains that’re hard.”

Dean’s eyes widened again. There was no mistaking Cas’ meaning, no mistaking the sudden deepness of his tone or the twinkle in his eye. It wasn’t like Cas to be so bold but it also wasn’t like Cas to willingly spend a night over in the apartment when there was only the illusion of privacy. Something was different but it didn’t seem bad.

“Alright, so colloidal hydrodynamics. Where to begin with those.”

All Cas did was lean back against the wall and close his eyes, letting Dean explain yet another concept he needed to know for the exam. He wasn’t really paying attention, too busy focusing on his own rampaging thoughts. The flirting had been accidental at first but Dean was clearly responding to it and that made Cas want to try it out more. He was tired of feeling like he wasn’t good enough when Dean was clearly dying to get into his pants.

Cas clued back into reality a couple minutes after Dean finished talking and he glanced down at the flashcard, nodding as his eyes scanned the information. Even if it wasn’t accurate, it was good enough for Cas.

“You did good at explaining that. Pick your option.”

“B, I choose B.” Dean said quickly.

There was a momentary pause before Cas leaned in, pressing his lips to Dean’s cheek. He had planned on kissing him outright but a nasty little idea had popped into his head and he’d be remiss if he didn’t humour it.

Dean turned his head almost immediately, trying to chase Cas’ lips. He wanted an actual kiss now that he knew it was an option. Cas pulled back just enough for Dean to be unable to catch up, shaking his head.

“No actual kisses for you, not unless you study more. It’s 7 and you’ve still got like 50 flashcards.”

“It’s gonna take me three hours to get through all that and we both know I need proper motivation. Pretty sure I’m only going to get that if you keep kissing me when I’m right.”

Cas rolled his eyes but his smile said everything it needed to. It wasn’t a smile of giving in to Dean’s demands so much as it was a smile promising he’d kiss him later. Dean didn’t bother to argue with him, turning back to face in front of him.

The pair spent the next two hours going over just about every single topic Dean would think of in relation to the exam and even a few that probably had nothing to do with it. Cas was helping too, filling in missing information by explaining what was on the flash cards. His questions helped too, just simple enough for Dean to be able to explain without feeling like he was a complete idiot. Of course the skittles and the pomegranate seeds Cas had brought helped too. By the time Dean had exhausted his brain, it seemed like he had exhausted Cas too. Cas was curled up to his side, head on his shoulder with his eyes closed.

“C’mon, don’t go falling asleep on me now.” Dean said, arm still wrapped around Cas’ shoulders. “I was promised kisses and more than just a hard bargain and I’d love to get that.”

“I guess you do deserve a few.” Cas mumbled. He turned his body, pressing closer into Dean’s side and more nuzzled into his neck than actually kissed him.

“Oh come on Cas, that’s not a kiss. You gotta show me where Mr. Confident’s hiding because I know he was out like three hours ago.”

Cas sighed from his position, the noise more fondly exasperated than anything else. Dean was cute when he was trying and truthfully, Cas had been thinking about it for the last three hours anyway. He took a deep breath to shake out any of the remaining nerves before he pulled away from Dean and then climbed into his lap. Cas faced Dean, attempting to straddle his outstretched legs and sit on his lap, and wound his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Is this better?” He asked with a smile.

Dean rested his hands on the tops of Cas’ thighs, nodding his head. “Much better. You know, there’s something a little different about you that I noticed today.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, quiet panic spiking.

“Aside from the fact you styled your hair and wore that coat which very much made me want to do horrible dirty things to you, you were confident. Hell, you’re still confident. It’s so different from September and honestly, it’s really sexy.”

“I had a lot of time to think after what happened on Thanksgiving.” Cas said, playing with the ends of Dean’s hair. “I’ve wasted so much time being so insecure about all of these stupid little things because that’s what my dad told me to do or what religion told me to do or what my inner voice told me to do and I’m tired of it.”

Dean nodded his head, settling down for the slight vent he knew Cas was about to begin.

“I had a dream a couple nights ago and I talked to myself in it and it made me realize a lot of things. I kind of realized that I know what I want and who I want and sure I’m not really experienced but that shouldn’t stop me from at least trying to find things out. And then there’s the whole looks thing but I kind of had some help with dealing with that one.”

“Did Thea help with that one?”

Cas shook his head. “Not by herself, no. She did her usual hyping up but Lee also helped with the hair tips, Benny might’ve helped with the coat, and then Charlie might’ve betrayed one of your secrets.”

“Oh God, what did she tell you?” Dean asked, already mortified.

“That you have dirty dreams about me.”

If Dean’s face hadn’t been red before, it was now. He felt the heat prickling his cheeks and while he tried not to react, he knew Cas could feel the subtle tightening of the hands on his thighs. There was no way Charlie had been specific with Cas, no way she would tell him everything. It didn’t save Dean but it made him feel slightly more secure.

“Charlie’s not the most reliable, we both know that.”

“Maybe so, but,” Cas said as he leaned in, lips barely brushing against Dean’s, “I think she’s right this time.”

Dean knew better than to give in but gave in anyway, pressing his lips against Cas’. He meant it to come across like he was just accepting the promised reward for studying but he failed. There was a need to the kiss that surprised Dean but it didn’t seem to phase Cas. The pair kissed for a little bit, hands kept neatly to themselves, before Cas pulled away slightly.

“Never did ask, what time’s your exam tomorrow?”

“Two, why?”

Cas grinned, sliding his hands from around Dean’s neck down his chest to rest just on top of his pecs. “Just wanna know how much I’m allowed to tire you out.”

“You think you can tire me out?”

“I know I can.”

Dean thought for a moment before he moved his hands, grabbing at Cas’ ass and lower back to pull him flush against his body. The kiss this time was sure, a hungry curiosity. Even Dean’s voice deepened as he breathed two words against Cas’ lips.

“Prove it.”

Chapter Text

Castiel had never felt like he had control. His parents had controlled his every move until his father had been banished from his life and if it wasn’t his father, then it was God’s wishes telling him what not to do and who not to be. He wasn’t allowed to be outspoken, to talk back, to allow himself even the temporary indulgence of his tiniest little whims and curiosities. Even if God and his father were gone, that left the demons that plagued his dreams. Anna’s face haunted him, drove him to dig himself further and further into the mystery with no hope of ever looking back.

The rush of control Cas felt with Dean was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It zinged down his spine and filled his veins, white hot heat taking over. Dean was under him, holding him, clutching at him with the desperation of a man possessed by an unearthly need. Cas knew he had the control and it gave him horrible filthy ideas. He grabbed Dean’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks and jaws, and kissed him harder. If Dean let him, Cas would swallow him whole.

Dean grabbed at Cas, pulling him closer closer closer until there was no room between them. The warm heat and the friction on his lap was almost too much and when Dean felt Cas dig his fingers in, an involuntary groan slipped out. Cas had the control and Dean was more than happy to give it over. There was nothing else like unravelling someone to their deepest passions and Dean knew Cas was hanging over that precipice.

“I’m so tired of pretending I don’t want you.” Cas breathed out, hands sliding from Dean’s face. They slid down his neck, his chest, and then Cas was tugging off the sweater Dean had on. The second Cas managed to get it up over Dean’s head and off his arms, he was right back to kissing Dean.

His lips slid across Dean’s jaw and neck, teeth scraping every so often against the delicate skin. Dean didn’t know whether Cas meant to do it but it didn’t matter. The groan it pulled from him was unmistakable and then he was pressing his throat up towards Cas’ lips. He grabbed at Cas’ shirt, trying to tug it off of him.

“Jesus, Cas. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Dean mumbled as he managed to get Cas away just long enough to pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Cas raised an eyebrow and something about the expression had Dean’s heart beating out of his chest. It was domineering and entertained and felt all too much like the dreams that had plagued Dean for months. Before alarm bells could ring in Dean’s head, Cas was kissing him again. It was all teeth and Dean responded in turn, matching Cas’ energy as he ran his hands up and down Cas’ body. His skin was soft, unblemished, and the heat beneath Dean’s hands was something he’d been craving for months.

“Evidently I’m full of surprises.” Cas chuckled, lips ghosting back over Dean’s neck. As he shifted to run his hands down Dean’s back, he had the sense to shift his hips and grind down slow and dirty in Dean’s lap. “Been getting myself a bit of an education.”

Dean swallowed thickly, another soft groan falling from his lips as Cas’ lips brushed over the hollow of his throat. He didn’t want to come across as too eager but he couldn’t help it, voice full of inherent curiosity. “What kind of education?”

Cas chuckled against Dean’s throat, hand sliding up into Dean’s hair while the other worked to unbutton and unzip his jeans. “Figuring out what I like. Must be killing you, not knowing.”

“Tell me.”

Cas stopped again, head tilting ever so slightly to the right. At this point the confidence had overtaken him and he wasn’t entirely sure where his words were coming from. He spoke, but it didn’t feel like he was the only one speaking. “I saw how you reacted earlier when I asked if you wanted to be my bitch. So do what a bitch would and beg.”

Dean leaned back, reeling as if he’d been hit. It was one thing to tease about it but it was another thing to say it like Cas was saying. There was no room for bargaining, no potential for miscommunication, and it didn’t entirely feel right. The alarm bells were louder now and apprehension set in. Dean's dick wanted him to keep quiet and get on with getting laid but it was no match for his brain. His brain, as it turned out, was deeply concerned about the direction things were heading. 

“Cas, I don’t- you’ve never done any of this before so I don’t think that you really know what you’re talking about.” Dean mumbled, searching through the fog of desire for the right words. “Stuff like that, the dirty talk, it’s just- it’s a lot for someone who hasn’t done any of this before.”

The wave of confusion slammed into Cas and his response was blunt, instinctual.

“So you don’t want me then.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Dean sighed, setting his hands on Cas’ thighs.

“So tell me what you do mean then.”

“I want to have sex, let’s make that perfectly clear. I’m so attracted to you it’s unbelievable. It’s just that you haven’t done any of this before and I don’t want you to be overwhelmed by everything. Trying to figure out sex is one thing but trying to figure it out for the first time while complicating it just isn’t good for anyone.”

Cas’ self-assured smile seemed to fall and the sudden bravado was flickering, more of the Cas Dean was used to peeking through. He didn’t know how to handle what Dean had just said and with it in the air, he wasn’t sure of anything. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes before Cas was starting to climb off Dean’s lap. Dean frowned, pulling his hands away to let Cas climb.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re clearly upset, Cas. I have eyes, I can see you’re upset.”

Cas huffed as he slid off the bed, getting to his feet. He threw up his hands in defeat, clearly more than upset. He'd been bottling up an outburst for months and dean was just unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end. “I just can’t fucking win, doesn’t seem to matter what I do. I repress the hell out of everything and deny myself for years and that just makes me worry that you’ll get tired of me and move on. If I try to take control, try to be forward, we end up where we are now where you say you want me but then tell me you don’t really want all of me because it isn’t right. I am so sick and fucking tired of just not ever having a clue about what’s fucking happening when it comes to my feelings and yours.”

“I told you then what I’ll tell you now.” Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face to try and evade the guilt he had no reason to be feeling. “I like you whether or not you decide you want to sleep with me and it isn’t that I don’t want you to be forward or that I don’t want you to take control. I just- I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do and I don’t want you to feel like you have to force being confident or knowledgeable in an attempt to impress me and keep me. I know about your past and I don’t want you to feel like you have to make that up to me.”

“I’m not trying to make it up to you!” Cas said, frustration edging into his tone. He was horny but he was hurt and pissed off too. “Contrary to popular belief, Dean, not every crisis I have is about you!”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“Then don’t handle me with kid gloves.”

Dean bit back a response that he had a feeling would only make things worse. There was no good way to handle this: either he’d say the wrong thing and Cas would explode outwardly or he’d say the other wrong thing and Cas would implode and leave. Neither option was preferable. That left the option he usually chose: placation and de-escalation. “Tell me what’s going on. I can’t do what you don’t want me to do if I don’t know why you don’t want me to do it.”

“My entire life everyone around me has told me what to do, what to think, how to act, what to wear, and who to fucking be. If it wasn’t dad and his beliefs then it was Thea pushing more than she should’ve or my aunt who pushed me to go to the party in September or even my mom who’s dragged me so far into the bucket of family crazy that I’m drowning like a rat. There isn’t a single person who’s let me just be me without conditions and I thought that maybe it would be you and you’ve been good but this just feels like you’re treating me like some fourteen year old finally discovering what the word sex means for the first time. Yeah I don’t have the experience but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Dean swallowed hard, eyes darting down to his lap. The outburst was a lot, almost too much for him to handle, and he could feel his own emotions threatening to spill over into the conversation. He said nothing in response and that was clearly the wrong answer because when he glanced up again, Cas had an expression on his face somewhere in the realm of disbelief and crushing betrayal.

“I want you, Dean. I want you in every way that counts and I know you feel the same but sometimes it just doesn’t feel like that. I’m not a kid and I don’t need you to manage my emotions for me. What I need, what I want, is a partner who’s okay with skipping some of the steps and just letting me do things the way I want to do them.”

Dean could barely hear his thoughts over the blood roaring in his ears. There was so much Cas was holding back but there was so much he was holding back too. The more Dean thought about it, the deeper the sinking feeling of familiarity became. He knew the words and the sentiment and there was a sudden burning in his eyes. Even his tone seemed to shift, a sudden creeping vulnerability just under the surface.

“I didn’t know it was bothering you so much, I’m sorry. I won’t do it any more, just- just don’t go looking for someone else okay. Or tell me if that’s your plan.”

It was Cas’ turn to pause, the sudden change jarring him from his slump of emotion and frustration. Dean hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming with most of his emotions and the last time he’d heard that tone Dean had been talking about his nightmares and his dead father. Cas scanned Dean’s face, heart sinking as he clued in to the clenched jaw and trembling lips.

“Dean?” Cas asked, taking a tentative step forward.

“Look, it’s late and I have that exam tomorrow so let’s just go to bed.” Dean said, trying to direct the conversation away from another argument or his own emotions. It was easier that way. “Do you need pajamas or anything?”

“You’re deflecting again.”

Dean shrugged before he turned away to pull his jeans off. He tossed them on the floor and crawled under the covers, gesturing for Cas to crawl in with him if he felt so inclined. Had it been Lisa Dean knew she’d have turned and walked out the door and he was half expecting Cas to do the same, already preparing for the worst. Cas, however, didn’t turn and walk out. What he did was take his own pants off and crawl into bed with Dean. Neither wanted to brave trying to cuddle so they lay there on their backs in silence for a while.

Cas was the first to break the silence. “Do you remember the first time I slept over and I had that nightmare?”

“Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“I’m still having them and they’re getting worse and I know this seems like a lot of left field stuff to be talking about but I swear it all makes sense with what just happened.” Cas said. “I keep dreaming about this woman and her family and this councilor and really fucked up things and it has to do with my family, with my mom and her mom and my dad and my great grandfather like nine times over.”

“And that relates to you being upset that I’m not having sex with you how?”

“It’s not directly related to that, sort of. It’s the stress of it that just kind of built and then this set it off.” Cas explained, still staring up at the ceiling. “The woman in my dreams, she’s had this horrible life with a councilor who did everything he could to ruin her. He forced her to kill her husband, made her do some kind of ritual that I don’t even understand, practically forced her to send her baby down the river, and he erased her from history. Her name isn’t in any of the records, nothing.”

Dean pursed his lips, almost relieved they were talking about something that wasn’t his own personal life. “You’re talking about Anna Milton, right? She’s the one whose grave I looked for on our weird as hell first date.”

“Yeah, her. Anyway, that asshole councilor is my way down the line relative and this doesn’t sound weird except for the fact my mom is having these dreams too so now neither of us really know if it’s all family crazy or if it’s supernatural or what’s going on but it’s a lot. She’s still dealing with the adopted thing and I’m going nuts between not sleeping and not being able to figure any of this out.”

Dean didn’t know how to react to what Cas was telling him though his first thought was to make a joke that would most certainly get him either slapped or broken up with. Probably both knowing his luck. Dean had never really been much a believer in the supernatural but his opinion was quickly being swayed by his own experience with sleeplessness.

“So you’re dealing with fucked up dreams, a fucked up family tree, adoption scandals, and trying to date me all at once. Jesus, no wonder you exploded.”

“I didn’t mean to, honestly. I’m just frustrated that I don’t know what’s going and I can’t figure it out in like every part of my life. My sleep is screwed, my family is screwed, and trying to get you to screw me just isn’t going very well either.”

Dean debated for a moment before he rolled onto his side to face Cas, glad the room was dark enough they really couldn’t see each other. There was nothing he could really say to Cas to help with the nightmares or the family tree and screwing that night was the furthest thing from an option that it had ever been. It took him another few minutes of silence before he spoke again, voice soft and hesitant.

“I was deflecting earlier, you’re not wrong.” He admitted. “I just- I’ve got a lot going on right now too and the way you said some of that stuff reminded me of something I’d really like to forget.”

Cas frowned, rolling over to face Dean. It hadn’t occurred to him that Dean might have had his own problems going on too. “What did it remind you of?”

“My ex.”

“What about your ex?”

“She cheated on me, that’s why we broke up and no this isn’t me saying that I’m worried about you cheating because I’m not. This is me saying that she cheated because she had things she wanted to try and she didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t think I’d understand or that I’d want to do those things. I just did that exact thing to you.”

Cas shifted, quiet as he listened. He’d never asked Dean about Lisa, had never really been interested in what she had done, but it was clear that she still bothered him. It was even clearer that Dean was more insecure in their relationship than Cas had thought and their argument had brought that to the surface.

“I’m not going to break up with you because you’re hesitant to try things with me, Dean.” Cas said. “It’s frustrating that you’re so hesitant but I also don’t know what I’m doing so I can’t be mad at you for what you’re doing. Well I can be mad but it isn’t that simple.”

“I just don’t want to drive you away because I have baggage from her and I don’t want you to have your first time be so clouded by all that shit either. Not that a first time is usually ever great, mine wasn’t, but I want it to be good for you.”

Cas sighed, his own guilt beginning to bubble back up. “I don’t care if it’s good or not, it’s not like I have something to measure it against. I just want it to be with you, that’s all.”

“Thanks.” Dean said, smiling tightly. He thought to himself again, deciding if there was more that he wanted to tell Cas. There was more going on than just Lisa still ruining his life with her memory but telling Cas about the dreams seemed like too much to unload on him, especially with his own dreams. “Sam sent in a bunch of early decision applications and we’re all really stressed about those right now. He applied to all these ivy leagues and there’s no way we can afford any of them unless he gets an insane scholarship and yeah he’s smart but I don’t know if he’s that smart and it’s just a lot.”

“Is your mom worried about that too?”

“Well yeah, of course she is. I’m in school right now and somehow not dying yet and mom’s back in school right now trying to get a higher degree so she can maybe afford to send Sam away to a better school than this one. I got into a better school than this but we couldn’t afford it so I didn’t go and that’s fine, it doesn’t really matter. I’m just worried that she’s working too much and that I’m working too much and that Sam is going to be crushed if he can’t go to the school he wants.”

“I didn’t know you got into a better school than this one.” Cas said as he scooted closer. “Didn’t know your mom was back in school either. She still working as a nurse?”

“Yeah, I got into MIT but tuition was like 58 grand a year and the scholarship wouldn’t have covered enough for me to go. Would’ve been selfish to go too and leave everyone here. But yeah, she’s back in school to get a nurse practice doctorate so she can get the crna qualification and make more money. It’s like a nurse anesthetist position I think.”

“That’s not fair that you didn’t get to go where you wanted to.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, rolling onto his back to stare back at the ceiling. “It’s not a big deal, an engineering degree is an engineering degree no matter what school I went to. At least this way I get to work more and see my family and it did mean that we got to meet so that’s kind of cool too.”

“It is kind of cool we met.” Cas agreed, closing the gap and cuddling up to Dean’s side. His frustration still lay beneath the surface but the outburst had helped and he did feel a bit better about things. Knowing Dean was just as unsure and hesitant as he was was a strangely comforting feeling. If they were both questioning and willing to work on things then just maybe it would work out for the best. 

Dean felt Cas curl up to his side and he let out a shaky breath he didn’t remember holding. Cas was warm and the weight of his head on his chest was enough to slow Dean’s out of control heart. They weren’t doomed, Cas clearly wasn't that upset any more, and the relief was practically instantaneous. Dean knew he should probably tell Cas about how his body was feeling but it really didn’t have to happen right that moment.

“Thanks for helping me study tonight and for the food. I really appreciate it.” Dean said, pausing to yawn. “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about and figure out between us but I think that’s a later problem.”

“A problem for after your exam for sure.”

Dean offered a quick “mhm” in response before he settled down, doing his best to will sleep to come. It was such a fickle mistress and with the nightmares he was having, he knew it wasn’t likely she’d be kind tonight either. He fell asleep before Cas did, mind wide awake until the heavy numbness of his limbs sent him off into dream land.

Chapter Text

Dean was wholly unprepared for the massive undertaking the structural engineering final project he’d been tasked with would be. Examine a prominent piece of architecture in the city, the instructions had said, examine it and note the structural engineering principles that kept it in one piece. It was a paper and some diagrams and maybe a model if Dean felt like pushing it and really trying to get a good grade. What he hadn’t expected was the building that would draw him in.

The spires towered high above the streets, thick iron weathered by many a storm. High arched windows faced the sidewalk and iron spike fences kept in a well maintained garden of what Dean assumed were beautiful flowers during their blooming season. There was an air of timelessness around the building, like it had always been there, but there was also a strange out of sorts to it. It was ancient and imposing and didn’t fit with the sleek high rises on either side of Dean, a Neanderthal next to the modern Prometheus.

He didn’t know what it was that drew him in but something did and he stepped past the open gates, ascending the stairs that seemed to beckon ever closer to the threshold. The iron handle was cold in his hand as he pulled the heavy oak door open and crossed the threshold into Saint Paul’s Cathedral. Dean was left breathless the moment he saw the interior, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Rows and rows of wooden pews stretched out in front of him, lined on either side by marble pillars and columns. A blood red carpet wrinkled under Dean’s boots as he stepped in further, pausing beneath a wooden archway carved with grapes and grapevines. Turning his head to the right, he noticed the small golden bowls full of water. He dipped his fingers into it and brought them up to his forehead, making the sign of the cross. Dean wasn’t religious but he knew enough to show basic respect in a place that had as much power as a church did.

He took a seat in one of the back pews to stay as out of the way as possible, doing his best to be quiet and unobtrusive. With pencil, paper, and an observant eye, Dean began to look around. For many hours he sat there and sketched, pencil scratching over the paper as he tried to immortalize the beauty surrounding him. Despite the knowledge he had that religion wasn’t always a good thing, Dean still found it beautiful. It was impossible not to see the way the sun shone through the stained glass and cast colourful patterns onto the altar in the front. Dean heard the pew he was in creak as he sketched the intricately carved lectern.

“You’ve been sitting here for quite some time. The Good Lord must be calling to you.”

Dean blinked slowly before he set his pencil down and glanced over in the direction the voice was coming from. He didn’t recognize the man but the garb was more than enough to give him away as a priest. There was a surprising rigidity to his features but Dean was more distracted by the scar that marred half his face. It crossed his nose and forehead and felt altogether too violent for a man of the cloth.

“I think it’s more the architecture than God.” Dean shrugged, glancing back at the altar. “I never really thought much about how churches could be beautiful.”

“I take it you’re not much a churchgoer then.”

“Got baptised but the holy stuff never took.”

The priest nodded his head, running a hand through his salt and pepper beard. “Well we welcome all into our doors with open arms, regardless of whether or not they’ve chosen to hear what God has to say in their lives.”

Dean pursed his lips and put his sketchbook in his bag before shifting in the pew to face the priest. “I don’t think I agree with that. I don’t think you welcome everyone.”

“I cannot speak for others and how they choose to interpret the teachings provided to us but I see no point in turning those away who seek guidance.” The priest said, aware of what Dean was likely heading towards. “We are meant to show love and compassion to everyone, even if we don’t agree with their viewpoint. Politics have no place in the Church when the core tenements dictate we show love and acceptance to friends and enemies alike.”

“See that’s fine in theory but theory doesn’t mean it follows into practice. I’ve seen what prejudice and misguided beliefs can do, they’ve hurt people close to me. How can you be complicit in hurting so many people for something they can’t control or shouldn’t feel ashamed about?”

“We cannot control how people interpret the word of God no matter how much we may want to. Humanity isn’t infallible, we aren’t divine, and it is only natural that we make mistakes in favour of furthering our own agendas. I believe that God wants us all to love and respect each other and so that is what I practice and encourage my parishioners to practice.” He said, leaning back to study Dean. There was curiosity in the boy’s eyes but there was something else too, an emotion that burned slower and deeper. “You seem troubled.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, still unsure of how to feel about the interaction. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Your poor lost soul radar is malfunctioning.”

“I don’t think it is but I won’t pressure you into sharing something you don’t want to.” The older man shrugged. “The Lord will listen to those who wish to unburden themselves emotionally and spiritually but only if they do so willingly.”

“Your whole shtick with that is confession, right?”

“Reconciliation, yes. You relieve yourself of what’s bothering you and I can offer guidance or penance to help absolve you of what you’ve confessed. They can be sins but don’t necessarily have to be.”

Dean leaned back again, closing his eyes to consider the situation before him. He didn’t believe in God or souls or spiritual absolution so it felt disingenuous to entertain the priest’s offer but accepting it provided him a unique opportunity. Here was someone who didn’t know him and had no preconceived notions about who he was willing to listen to his problems and provide advice (even if the advice was tinged with beliefs he didn’t fully understand). The curiosity took over more than the apprehension or the guilt of trying a practice he wasn’t sure he was entitled to and Dean nodded his head.

“All I have to do is tell you what’s been going on and then you’re going to help me feel like the weight of it isn’t crushing me anymore?”

“If that’s what you think this is, then yes. There are some customs to follow but you’ve been baptized so you’re entitled to follow them. We do have to move though, confession is typically performed in a confessional and this is most certainly not that.”

Still unsure of what was happening but resigned to follow through now that he’d started it, Dean rose to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I never did catch your name.”

“Father Asmodeus, though most just call me father.”

Dean’s first thought was that the priest’s name was odd, certainly not modern, but then again he was dating a Castiel and did know a Rowena. Maybe it was just a Catholic thing. Either way, Dean followed the older man though the church and towards an intricately carved box that was enchanting in its own right. An energy radiated from it and Dean felt goosebumps prickling his arms.

“You’ll enter the right side. You can sit if you wish but there’s also a kneeler.” Asmodeus explained. “I’ll be on the other side.”

“It’s just a little chat, don’t be so nervous.” Dean mumbled to himself as he stepped into the confessional. It was immediately cramped and he was immediately uncomfortable. There wasn’t enough room for a chair and Dean couldn’t stand fully without hitting his head so reluctantly he knelt down. It was hard on his knees, cushioning deflated.

An unease floated in the air as Dean knelt there in silence. He didn’t have a clue as to what he was supposed to be doing or what the priest was supposed to be doing and all that served to do was unsettle him. He was on edge, anxiety slowly paralyzing his muscles and setting his nerves ablaze. But it wasn’t just anxiety and it wasn’t just nervousness; there was a peculiar third emotion he didn’t remember feeling before stepping into the confessional, guilt. Guilt bogged him down, turning his limbs to stone and making his stomach ache. He felt compelled to speak, to confess his sins with his guilty tongue.

“Tell me how long it’s been since your last confession.” Father Asmodeus said, face obscured by the woven screen that separated them.

“Um, about 21 years I guess.”

A moment of silence passed where Dean swore he heard the other man almost laugh. It had to be his imagination though. The priest thought for a moment before he shifted, practically staring at Dean through the screen. “Tell me what’s on your mind, what your sins are.”

“I don’t exactly know what you people consider a sin so I don’t know.” Dean mumbled. “I haven’t killed anyone or assaulted anyone or dishonoured my parents so I’m just a little at a loss here. Unless of course you’re talking about sins of the flesh and in that case, well… how free are you?”

“I have plenty of time.”

Dean nodded his head, closing his eyes for a moment to think. He hadn’t been guilty before this, hadn’t ever been ashamed that he enjoyed pleasure, but it felt different now. There was a creeping guilt that he wasn’t sure was his own that seemed to take over. His voice, while his own, didn’t quite feel like it.

“There’s… people, feelings that I-I- I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” He said, words shaky. “There’s this boy, well he’s not just some boy, he’s kind of my partner.”

“And you’re struggling with that same sex attraction?”

Dean shook his head.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed for loving him because I’m not because I don’t think it’s bad that I love a boy.” He explained, still chewing on his words. There was a sudden burning shame he felt in his reddening face as he resigned himself to be truthful. He was going to be judged either way, if not by God then certainly by a man who believed in him. “It’s the um- it’s the physical stuff.”

“Would you like to tell me about what you’ve been experiencing?”

“I dream about him all the time, about the things I want to do to him and the things I want him to do to me, and I know it’s normal but it doesn’t feel normal. Sure I think dreaming about someone once in a blue moon is fine but it’s been four months and it’s almost every night and I think there’s something really wrong with what’s happening.”

There was silence on the other end for a number of minutes and when the priest finally spoke, the hairs on Dean’s neck stood straight up. The man’s voice had deepened, the slight drawl replaced by a gravel that felt all too familiar. It twisted Dean’s stomach in knots.

“Tell me what you dream about, child.”

“What?”

“In order to show that we are sorry for what we have done, we must bring our darkest desires and secrets into the light.” Asmodeus explained, gravel spreading into a prodding curiosity. “I cannot help you find forgiveness if I do not know your sins of the flesh or the mind.”

Dean knew something wasn’t quite right with the scenario but was more afraid of what would happen if he questioned it out loud. He’d read enough horror stories and heard enough from Cas to know that messing around with that would be less than ideal. It took several minutes for Dean to collect himself before he was spilling his guts to a priest, finally able to unload part of what had been plaguing him for months.

Dean told Father Asmodeus everything, every sordid detail and unspoken desire that drove him forward. He told the man about how Cas in his dreams was domineering, controlling, all around a force of nature not to be trifled with. Cas with his spankings and dirty talk and swallowing, with his teasing and edging and warm hands. The more Dean spoke, the worse he felt and by the time he finished speaking he knew something was wrong.

He could barely breathe in the confessional, air thick with a cloying scent that made his chest ache and his head pound. It was sickly sweet and smoky and Dean’s vision was quickly filling with a smokey red haze. Dean coughed into his hands, sticky and wet, and when he stared down at them he quickly realized he had too many fingers.

“No, no!” He yelled, panic stricken voice bouncing around the confessional. There was no escaping his fate and when he turned to dash through the curtain and to freedom, he found himself blocked in by solid wood. He clawed desperately at the wood blocking his path, splinters burying themselves in his fingers as his nails cracked and broke.

“We both know trying to claw your way out of this is a pathetically futile attempt at maintaining some control over a situation that is so impossibly out of your control it’s almost comical.”

Dean heard the voice and his blood ran cold, hands falling to his side though he didn’t dare turn around. The voice was amused, gravel warped and twisted with a smile he saw in his nightmares.

“Come on Dean, get back on those pretty little knees for me. I want them bruised by the time we’re done.”

Dean swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it impossible to breathe. He clenched his eyes shut as he turned on his feet and sank back to his knees, refusing to stare where the screen had been at whatever stood in front of him. There was an impossibly cold hand tilting his chin up, sharp talon digging into his bottom lip.

“Relationships work both ways, Dean.” Not-Cas crooned, voice still so similar to Cas it was like hearing his twin. “You’ve got to do what I ask if you want something in return, sweetheart. And I’m not asking much this time, I promise.”

“I just want you to leave me alone.”

Not-Cas hummed his approval, taloned thumb piercing Dean’s lip before stroking it and smearing the blood. “I can make that happen, pet. All I need is for you to hold up your end of the bargain. You do remember what you promised me the last time we met, don’t you?”

Dean nodded his head, too terrified to say anything.

“Don’t be like that, Dean. I like when you use your words. Now we both know that you agreed to say yes to whatever it was I asked you the next time we met and I’m cashing in that favour right now. I want to fulfill every perverted little desire you have so you don’t ever drive Castiel away again like you almost did when you were awake. Now that doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

Dean said nothing in response, ashamed he had allowed his subconscious to even get this bad in the first place. He knew, deep down he knew, that it wasn’t his subconscious but the alternative seemed too crazy to be true. That red creature he had seen, there was no way it had been his imagination.

“You’ll leave me alone forever if I say yes?” He asked quietly, trying not to wince as speaking forced Not-Cas' talon deeper into his bottom lip. “I won’t have these nightmares anymore and I won’t be so sick?”

“You won’t have those nasty little nightmares anymore, I swear. We do this and then I’m gone forever. I’ll even make it good for you, I dole out pleasure as much as I take it.”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

Not-Cas tsked before digging his talon in even deeper, blood bubbling from the broken skin and dripping down Dean’s chin. “I need you to repeat after me if this is going to work. You will feel good and you will wake up and you will never experience another nightmare from me if you do this. So listen good and repeat after me…”

Dean kept his eyes closed as he listened intently, determined to get it right. He had no doubt it would feel great but he knew he’d wake up in a haze of self-hatred and shame for everything that he was dreaming about. It was practically impossible to speak without choking on his blood and spit but Dean did his best.

“I give myself entirely to you. My mind, my body, my soul, all are yours for the taking. Your wishes, your desires, they are mine and mine are yours. I let you into the deepest darkest parts of me and I offer myself up to you. Consume me, consume every piece of me until nothing is left. I am yours. Please, do what you will.”

As soon as the final words left Dean’s mouth he was preparing himself for what Not-Cas was going to do. He was ready for the instant kissing, for the roaming talons, for whatever the creature could think of but it didn’t come. A minute passed and then two and just when Dean thought that maybe he’d be free, something changed.

A wall of heat slammed into Dean, knocking him from his knees onto the floor. It poured into his mouth and boiled red hot in his veins, spreading through him until it was the only thing he could feel. Dean tried to sit up but found he couldn’t, too distracted by his stomach. The knot of arousal in it was unmistakable, a pounding pulsing feeling he knew all too well. He couldn’t control it. Dean finally glanced up at Not-Cas, drawn towards the thing that looked so much like his boyfriend it was almost unbelievable.

Not-Cas looked as nonchalant as ever, same face and body that Dean knew so well. The only difference was the priest’s collar around his neck and the more Dean stared at it, the more the arousal inside him grew. Not-Cas laughed, an arrogant biting sound.

“I’m going to ruin you, little lamb. I’m going to corrupt your innocence and defile you.”

Dean swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Not-Cas. It would be so easy to grab him and kiss him, so easy to alleviate the desire that clouded his mind, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wasn’t the one in control here.

“Your desire is taking over, I can see it in your eyes.” Not-Cas hummed as he knelt down, hovering over Dean’s outstretched legs. His tongue rested between his teeth and he knew Dean was staring at him. “If you beg for me, I’ll help you out. How’s that sound?”

“Please,” Dean whispered.

Not-Cas thought for a moment before sliding a taloned hand up Dean’s thigh, stopping just before the tent in his pants. “Please, what? You’ve got to tell me what you want, Dean.”

“I need you to fuck me. I can’t, it hurts so bad right now.” He said, voice so quiet it was almost a whimper. It did hurt, his entire boy ached with want. All of his self-control was barely enough to keep him from grabbing Not-Cas and he knew that Not-Cas knew that too. “Please Cas, I need you.”

Not-Cas was on Dean in an instant, taloned hands digging into his face and hip as he pulled Dean into a seated position and pushed him against the wall of the confessional. Dean’s head thwacked against the hard wood of the wall but he didn’t have time to think about it because Not-Cas was kissing him. It was sharp and hungry, flooding Dean’s mouth with the metallic taste of his own blood.

The hand on his face dug into his skin and broke its surface, hot blood dripping down his cheek and his jaw. His jeans protected his hip from the same treatment but it didn’t matter because Not-Cas was sitting on his lap and grinding down with a slow dirty rhythm. Dean didn’t know what to do with his hands but one found its way into Not-Cas’ hair as Dean finally kissed back. It was just as violent, as hungry as Not-Cas’.

“400 years I’ve waited for someone like you,” Not-Cas whispered, lips and tongue lapping up the trail of blood on Dean’s cheek and jaw. His hand slid down to Dean’s throat, thumb swiping over his Adam’s apple before it continued its path own to his chest. “Someone so repressed, so needy, so effortlessly beautiful.”

Dean groaned, tightening his grip on Not-Cas’ hair as he pushed his head closer to him. There was the scrape of teeth on his throat and it sent shivers zinging down his spine. What they were doing was well past sacrilegious but that thought left Dean’s mind the second he felt the talons shredding through his shirt like it was paper.

“I need more. This isn’t enough.”

Not-Cas paused for a moment, lips stilling on Dean’s neck as a million thoughts ran through his mind. He had a plan and it was working. His lips returned to working on Dean’s neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave bruises. It only worked if Dean was marked and his pleased groans were a pretty motivator. It took a moment for Not-Cas to unbutton and unzip Dean’s jeans, shifting to push them and his boxers halfway down his thighs. He paused again, spit into his hand, and wrapped it around Dean’s hard cock.

Dean’s sharp groan broke the silence. He still had one hand in Not-Cas’ hair and the other curled up into a fist. Dean bucked his hips up almost immediately, another wave of fire shooting through him as he was finally touched for the first time. He tried to pull Not-Cas closer, a desperate grab at his shirt, but it was quickly put to rest when Dean felt the stinging slap across his face.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Not-Cas hissed as his voice deepened, “or I will make you and I don’t think you’ll like that very much.”

Dean shook his head. “I can’t. You’re not doing enough, it’s already so uncomfortable.”

Not-Cas pulled away immediately, wiping his hand on his pants and getting to his feet. He was angry, lips pursed and brow furrowed but there was a second emotion lingering in the dark blue of his eyes. It looked almost like triumph. He dipped at the waist to grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him to his feet with enough force to pull it from the socket.

Dean cried out, a short shout of pain as Not-Cas let go and watched his arm fall limply to his side. Beneath the pain, more arousal bloomed and Dean looked terrified when he realized. Not-Cas, on the other hand, grinned with too many teeth.

“You liked that.” He said, reaching out for Dean. The tenderness with which he cupped Dean’s face was startling, even moreso when the next kiss was feather soft. “I have to teach you a lesson about keeping your hands to yourself, Dean, but I promise it’ll be fun.”

Dean blinked slowly, unsure of exactly what was happening. He followed Not-Cas nonetheless, walking from the confessional toward the front of the church. Not-Cas took one look at the altar before he swept everything off with one of his arms.

“Take your shirt off and lay down on the altar.” Not-Cas demanded, back turned to Dean as he unbuttoned his shirt.

For the first time since the dreams had started, Dean was seeing Not-Cas without clothing. The muscles in his back and shoulders rippled and flexed as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Light from the lanterns above filtered down and that’s when Dean noticed something he’d never seen before. Two thick jagged scars took center stage between Not-Cas’ shoulder blades, raised far above the skin and an angry reddish white that Dean knew all too well.

Dean thought about asking what the scars were but knew better than that and did as he was asked, pulling off the remaining ribbons of his t-shirt before climbing onto the altar. The marble was freezing beneath his skin and hard too, deeply uncomfortable the longer he lay there. Not-Cas moved silently, dipping into the darkness to retrieve a few items. There was a metallic clang before Not-Cas appeared again, red rope in his right hand.

“Hands above your head.” He said sharply, grabbing Dean’s dislocated arm and lifting it in time with his good arm. Ignoring the grunt of pain, Not-Cas took the red rope and wound it around his wrists. He wound it tight enough to secure Dean’s hands, leaving the extra to hang over the edge of the altar. “They call this cincture but that doesn’t really matter. You’ll keep your hands to yourself, won’t you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Dean’s arm was slowly going numb, the pain fading into tingling and he didn’t know whether or not to be grateful. He didn’t have to think long though because Not-Cas was quickly back to dealing with him, hungrily kissing him again. Not-Cas was leaning over him as they kissed, talons pressing against Dean’s chest without breaking the skin. As he shifted on the balls of his feet, his nails dug in deeper and he began to leave open mouthed kisses down Dean’s chest and torso.

Dean groaned softly when he felt Not-Cas’s nails scrape across his nipples, pushing up into his hands. His groan became a moan he felt Not-Cas roll them between his fingers and it became louder when he felt the swipe of a tongue. The tongue became teeth and Dean’s arousal was stirring again. He tried to get Not-Cas to move lower and lower but felt the strong hands pinning him down to the altar, nails breaking the skin on his chest.

“Fuck I want to taste you again.” Not-Cas groaned, the first time he’d ever let anything akin to pleasure slip out. He lapped up the blood with his tongue, slipping his hands down to squeeze painfully hard at Dean’s hips. With the blood stirring feelings in Not-Cas he wasn’t entirely prepared to deal with, he forced himself away from Dean.

He reached for a couple candles and a lighter, binding them together with a hank of leftover cincture cord. Satisfied with the cross the candles formed, Not-Cas positioned himself close to Dean’s head. He grabbed Dean’s rope bound wrists and pulled him closer to the edge, far enough his head hung off and bared his throat.

“The Catholics have a tradition where they get their throats blessed, claim it has to do with some dead saint or something. Helps them speak their truth or be cured of disease or something. Either way, it’s supposed to purify them.” Not-Cas explained, striking a match and lighting the candle. “I certainly don’t think we’ll be doing any purifying tonight.”

Dean felt the first drip of wax on his throat almost immediately, hot and liquid and burning. It split and slid down either side of his throat, hardening before it could drip onto the floor. The wax kept coming and coming and with it came the familiar heat, the kind of heat that had Dean’s toes curling and quiet groans falling from his lips. Not-Cas let the wax fall for a few minutes before unbuttoning his pants, slipping them off to stand fully naked in front of Dean.

“You’ve been begging to taste me for months and I’m more than happy to oblige.” Not-Cas said as he took his cock into his hand. It pulsed, hot and heavy, as he stood closer to Dean. “You know what to do.”

Dean, who couldn’t focus on much of anything except for the wax heating and burning his throat, opened his mouth. He felt the head of Not-Cas’ cock pass his lips and then he was sealing his lips around him, careful not to use his teeth. Of course Dean knew what to do, he’d done it several times before now, but this was different.

Not-Cas was bigger than he’d ever had before, longer and thicker and he wasn’t gentle either. There was a hand in Dean’s hair keeping his head at the right angle as Not-Cas finally began to move his hips, drawing his cock out until it hit the hard ridge of Dean’s teeth. Hot wax dripped onto Dean’s throat as Not-Cas picked up a brutal rhythm, driving himself into Dean’s mouth with seemingly wild abandon.

Dean was doing his best not to choke but found it incredibly hard, nearly gasping and spluttering every time he had an inch of breathing room. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth and all he could hear were the sound echoing in his head. His jaw ached and his neglected dick throbbed with an intense need but he couldn’t exactly take care of it, bound hands stuck exactly where Not-Cas wanted them to be. Between Not-Cas and the wax it all seemed like too much but then Dean felt the hand on the side of his neck and a thumb swiping over the swell of the dick in his throat.

Dean nearly came right then and there but Not-Cas pulled out completely. He turned to set the candles aside and gave Dean a quick breather before he was right back at it again, hand wrapped around the base of Dean’s throat.

“You’re so good for me Dean,” Not-Cas groaned as he pistoned his hips. “Perfect fucking lips, perfect fucking mouth, so eager to please. I’m going to come down your throat, make sure you’re never pure again.”

Dean moaned something unintelligible in response before deciding to try something on the fly, more of an instinct than a concentrated thought experiment. He pulled his lips back to prevent the cushioning effect, teeth scraping ever so slightly against the shaft of Not-Cas’ cock. The result was instantaneous, a sharp groan pulling itself from Not-Cas as he came down Dean’s throat.

“Didn’t say you could do that but I’ll let it slide.” Not-Cas said as he stepped away again, chest heaving with exertion. He swiped a hand through the hard wax on Dean’s throat, humming to himself. “We’ve got a couple options now, pet. We get it over with quick and dirty or I can really take my time.”

Dean shook his head the best he could, still thinking about the slightly bitter and metallic taste in his throat. “Don’t care what you do, just want you to touch me.”

Not-Cas grinned again, pure amusement in his eyes as he crossed the altar to stand at Dean’s feet. He grabbed them and slid Dean across the altar with a screech of skin on the stone, stopping when Dean’s ass was at the edge.

“I could just eat you up.” Not-Cas mused, fingers trailing up Dean’s thighs. “Last person I had this much fun with didn’t have any eyes. So glad yours are such a pretty green.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, any confusion erased when Not-Cas squeezed at his thighs. The action, while simple, shot spikes of arousal through Dean and he was once again cognizant of how incredibly hard and uncomfortable he was. He thought about begging for Not-Cas to touch him but as it turned out, he didn’t need to.

Not-Cas licked a stripe from base to tip, running his tongue over the vein on the underside of Dean’s cock. He swiped his tongue across the head before wrapping a hand around the base, glancing up at Dean. Dean’s eyes were closed and his head tilted back but Not-Cas was more distracted by the way Dean’s hands were clasped in prayer. It was ironic really.

Turning his attention back to Dean, Not-Cas practically went to town. He wrapped his lips around Dean, gave a gentle suck, and then started bobbing. It was easy enough to get Dean to react, the poor thing had been on the edge for nearly an hour at that point. At one point Not-Cas hollowed his cheeks and Dean moaned sharply in response. With that in mind and the saliva dripping from his mouth, Not-Cas began to twist his hand in time with his mouth.

Dean was losing his mind the longer Not-Cas paid him any attention. Between his lips and his mouth and the hand, Dean was barrelling towards a cliff he wanted to jump off. The throbbing spread to his stomach and his thighs and it peaked when he felt the sharp sting of Not-Cas’ nails digging into his thighs. He moaned out but fell short of orgasm, Not-Cas quickly squeezing the base of his cock to stave it off.

Dean came without actually coming, almost near tears with how badly he needed to get off. He tried to buck his hips up but Not-Cas held them firm, pulling away to stand at his full height.

“You’re not getting off that easily.” He hummed, digging his nails in deeper.

“I need it, please.”

Not-Cas shook his head, still grinning. “If you want it so badly, beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be my little slut, how badly you want to come for me.”

Dean had long flown past embarrassment and squarely in desperation territory now, chest heaving and eyes still squeezed shut. He was working on getting out of the rope but wasn’t quite there yet so he had to play along. His voice was cracked and wrecked as he spoke.

“Please,” Dean mumbled. “I want you so bad I’m dying. I want to be your slut, I want you to use me any way you want. I want to come for you. Just, please.”

Not-Cas figured he could probably get more begging out of Dean but didn’t bother, simply spitting into his hand and wrapping it back around Dean. His movements were quicker now, jerkier, as he leaned in to kiss Dean again. It was just as insistent and open mouthed as before, Not-Cas pressing harder and harder against Dean with more and more teeth. Dean moved up into the kiss, just as desperate for anything he could get. He could taste himself on Cas’ lips and it stirred something deep in him, something he hadn’t considered he’d even like.

Dean came without realizing it, moaning against Not-Cas’ lips and spilling hot in his hand. Not-Cas didn’t give him any time to think about it because he moved his cum coated hand and used it to lube up his fingers. There was a moment of breathing room before Not-Cas was parting Dean’s legs and cheeks and sliding a finger into Dean’s hole.

“Oh God!” Dean choked out.

“No, not God.”

There was silence from Not-Cas as he began to move his finger, curling and wiggling it ever so slightly in his attempt to stretch Dean. In all of their time together they’d never really gotten that far and Not-Cas knew Dean was going to be tight, but he hadn’t expected him to be that tight. Unsatisfied with the singular finger, Not-Cas began to work his tongue in alongside it.

Dean moaned again, a sharper higher sound than before. He couldn’t reach Not-Cas’ head with the way his hands were bound and tried to work on getting the last of the knot undone so he could. His shoulder still ached and refuse to work with him but he managed to loosen the knot enough to slip his hands out, the rope falling to the side. He felt Not-Cas slide in another finger and then his good hand was moving of its own accord, sliding into Not-Cas’ hair and gripping it tightly.

Not-Cas shifted, very aware of the hand in his hair, but chose to let it slide for the moment. There’d be plenty of consequences soon enough. Dean was reacting exactly the way Not-Cas wanted him to, moaning and groaning and pushing his hips back as best as he could given his position. It was just about the sweetest sound he’d ever heard and his own coked twitched back to life with renewed interest when he felt Dean shiver. When Not-Cas was satisfied that Dean was ready enough, he withdrew his fingers and tongue and pulled away.

“I’m almost impressed you manage to get out of the rope with your shoulder the way it is.” He mused, pulling Dean’s hand out of his hair as he rose to his full height. “Unfortunately, there are consequences.”

Not-Cas’ hands were back on Dean, pulling him off of the altar and to his feet. Quick as a whistle he turned Dean around and bent him over the altar. It hurt when Dean’s head slammed into the cold marble, wind knocking itself out of his lungs and temporarily stunning him. Dean felt something cool slip over his head and around his neck but it was quickly overtaken by the insistent press of Not-Cas against him.

“I think it’s high time we get on with this, don’t you?” Not-Cas mused, nudging Dean’s legs apart with his own.

Dean shifted, trying to settle and collect himself but he wasn’t given the chance. There was a bruising hand gripping his hip and then a sudden burning stretch. He groaned despite himself, head dropping back onto the altar. Not-Cas was bigger than Dean had taken before but he was also on edge too, skin too hot and body way too overstimulated.

Not-Cas grunted into Dean’s ear, practically pinning him down. He slid in slow and careful, burying himself as deep as he could. For months Not-Cas had been waiting for this, for the chance to ruin Dean and get what he wanted, and now it was in his grasp. He grabbed the end of the rosary he’d placed around Dean’s neck and pulled his upper body up, forcing Dean to arch his back.

Dean was gone from the very first drag of Not-Cas’ hips. The rosary beads dug into his throat and choked off his hair, giving him a delightfully heady feeling compounded only by the throbbing pain of his bruised hip and the sharp snap as Not-Cas moved his hips punishingly hard. Everything about it hurt and Dean hated how much he liked it.

“Look at you,” he groaned, low and deep in his throat, “taking my cock like a whore.”

Dean moaned in response, trying to shove his hips back against Not-Cas. He knew he wasn’t going to last, not with the pace and the pain and the lips that were suddenly on his neck again. They moved and ghosted across his skin and when Dean felt the sharp canines sink into the junction of his neck and shoulder, he practically lost. He didn’t know what he was saying, only that he was begging and moaning in a voice far too high and broken to truly be his own. It told Not-Cas to bite him, to mark him, to use him until he couldn’t remember his own name and Not-Cas obliged.

Somewhere in their cramped frantic fucking, Not-Cas let the rosary fall back down Dean’s neck and instead wrapped his hand around Dean’s throat. He squeezed tighter and tighter around Dean’s neck, nails digging into the tender flesh of his throat enough to tear it from the friction. His other hand remained on Dean’s hip, digging through the scabbed cuts and tearing them open once again. Not-Cas’ arousal was building and building and he knew Dean was nearing his climax, knew he was nearly out of time.

“Are you going to cum just from my cock in your ass?” Not-Cas moaned, both hands moving to Dean’s chest.

Dean moaned in response, so far gone he didn’t trust himself to speak. He hoped the way he pushed back against Not-Cas was a sufficient enough answer.

Not-Cas braced himself before he dug his talons into Dean’s chest, piercing the flesh above his sternum and sinking in until he hit bone. His blood covered lips left a trail along Dean’s neck and shoulders as he bore down and snapped his hips harder. There was a lingering tension in the air, a mounting feeling as the pair raced towards a cliff’s edge. His nails dug in deeper and deeper and Not-Cas gravel filled voice overpowered the subtle cracking echoing in the space.

“Come on Dean, let go. Give me everything you have.”

Even if Dean had wanted to hold back, he was helpless to. His orgasm crashed over and his vision blurred, spilling hot and white onto the altar. But the blurred vision and the warmth spreading through him were unlike anything he’d felt before.

It was pure pain that bloomed through his chest and the rest of his body as he felt Not-Cas’ hips still, felt him spilling white and hot. The heat burned through his chest as cracks echoed throughout the church, all too familiar and eerie as they bounced around in his own ears. It paralyzed Dean and he was helpless as Not-Cas pulled out, turning him back onto his back before sliding him onto the altar. He climbed on top of Dean, sat on his torso, and dug his talons back into Dean’s chest.

“You did so good.” Not-Cas soothed, talons cracking through Dean’s sternum and slicing through the meat that lay beneath it. Blood coated his hands and nails and the layer of viscera only grew thicker as he broke through Dean’s ribs to expose his still beating heart.

Dean didn’t know what was happening, mouth and throat so full of his own blood he was choking on it. He couldn’t feel his limbs, could barely see out, and didn’t have enough energy to scream or fight. The feeling of ice cold hands and sharp nails closing around his heart sent a shockwave of fear through him.

Not-Cas dipped his head down into the gaping hole in Dean’s chest and sunk his teeth into Dean’s heart, tearing a chunk out. Blood sprayed across his face and Dean was startled when he realized he still thought Not-Cas was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Dean’s vision was fading, his limbs growing heavier and his body weaker, and as it faded into the nothingness he was sure he’d come from, Dean heard Not-Cas speak one more time.

“You’re the sweetest I’ve tasted, my little sacrificial lamb.”

Chapter Text

Cas knew everything was wrong again when he became conscious and his body was heavier than it normally was. Apparently it was taller too because he took a step forward and hit his forehead off of a low ceiling beam.

“Fuck!” He swore, hand halfway up to his forehead before he was able to process his voice. It echoed deeper in his head then he’d expected, echoed in a different way than his normally did. The hand on his forehead scrubbed down his face as he tried to map out the features of this new face and as it did, a pit opened up in his stomach. “This can’t be real.”

There was a knock at the door and footsteps as someone else entered the room. Panicked spiked through Cas and it turned into an angry outburst when he heard the other man begin to speak.

“What do you want?” He hissed, the anger not quite his.

The man paused, tension thick in the air, and took a moment to collect himself.

“Anna Milton’s requested that you visit her tonight and that you bring your guest of honour.”

Cas turned, not quite of his own volition, and grew increasingly alarmed. He knew the sensation all too well, panic mounting as he realized he was trapped in another body in the hellish landscape of his supernaturally induced dreams. It was out of his control now, just like it always was. He’d hitched another ride but it wasn’t Anna this time. Cas didn’t think that was a good thing.

“She didn’t give you a reason?” Cas felt himself ask, suspicion evident in his voice.

The man shook his head. “No, Arthur, she didn’t. I don’t suspect it’s for anything aside from begging you to sway the tide of opinion. Everyone still believes she killed her husband in cold blood.”

“Well we all know that isn’t true.” Came a voice from another room, this one decidedly feminine.

The air was warmer than it had been moments ago and Cas shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He felt arms wrap around his waist and the unmistakable press of breasts against his back. With it came a wave of arousal and it horrified Cas. He wasn’t into women and it wasn’t his body and it felt too foreign to be comfortable.

“What do you say, As? Should we visit our sad little friend?”

As, the woman apparently, nodded her head before withdrawing her arms and smoothing down her gown. Cas couldn’t deny her beauty even if he’d wanted to. Long salt and pepper hair, eyes so green they rivalled the forest, and lips he wasn’t sure were entirely natural. It was the kind of beauty that hurt to stare at and he averted his gaze.

“I, for one, would love to thank her for everything she did for me.”

Cas held out his hand for As to take before the pair exited the home. His consciousness raced as he tried to figure out who the woman was and what was happening but Arthur’s thoughts were mixing with his. Arthur wanted Anna dead and he wanted As to do it, wanted to watch her choke the life out of the woman who had made his own life miserable.

“She’s done much for the pair of us but all she is is a thorn in my side. I thought losing her husband would quiet her down but it didn’t.” Cas heard himself say. “Perhaps we can use her child to our advantage.”

“A child?”

Cas nodded his head. “A girl, Temperance. She’s a year at most, still unpolluted by the stark mad ravings of her lunatic mother.”

As smiled, lips peeling back to reveal her sharp canines. Even Arthur’s blood ran cold at this and Cas was horrified. If he had hands he knew he would’ve been covering his eyes but he didn’t have either so it seemed like the atrocities were coming for him once again.

The door to Anna’s home was ajar when the pair reached it and Cas felt an eyebrow raise. Anna was expecting them so this shouldn’t have been as concerning as it was. He knew she had to have something planned, knew in fact that she did and that he wasn’t going to like what he saw. Arthur, however, had no clue and stepped inside with As close behind him.

The home was in complete disarray, simple furniture smashed and strewn across the dirt floor. Her cauldron had been tipped and the remnants of a soupy gruel soaking into the earth. It looked like something else had been spread across the floor and Cas stepped over it gingerly, eyes sweeping across the room to fall on Anna.

Her back was turned to them but she knew they were there by the way her posture tightened and tensed. There was a strange smell in the air, sickly sweet and rotting. Cas had smelled it once when he’d been forced to attend an open casket funeral and it had never quite left him.

“So you’re Anna then.” As said as she stood next to Arthur, arms crossed over her chest. “You think you’d have the common decency to turn around and face your guests but I suppose all decorum goes out the window when you’re mad.”

“One would assume others have the decorum not to force another to kill their husband to summon a demon but you’re here, aren’t you.” Anna replied sharply.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Tell us what you want. We don’t have all night and we all know Temperance is bound to wake up soon.”

“Oh Temperance is long gone.”

The temperature in the home dropped instantly, Anna and Arthur’s bodies wracked with shivers. His breath came out in angry panicked puffs but the fear nearly outweighed the anger. Arthur wasn’t afraid of Anna but he was afraid of As.

“What did you do?” He asked warily, taking a step toward the boundary of the circle on the other side.

“There’s blood on your hands, Anna Milton.” As said, sounding vaguely amused. “But I don’t think it’s your child’s.”

Anna took a shaky breath as if preparing herself for what she had to do and that’s when things went haywire. She turned just long enough to throw a powder at the pair, striking a match and dropping into the boundary of the circle they stood in. Flames roared to life and the heat hit Cas straight in his face. It burned his skin, singed his eyebrows, and made his eyebrows water.

As shrieked, more in indignation than horror, posture rigid and strained as if she were trying to stay as far away from the flaming boundary as she could. All amusement had faded from her voice and replacing it was pure anger. It burned cold and dripped with venom when she did speak.

“This boundary won’t hold me long, Anna Milton, and when it fails you will regret this. I’ll rip the skin from your-“

“Shut up Asmodeus.”

A startle spiked though Cas’ body and he felt himself turn to stare at As, well- at Asmodeus. Arthur knew that name, Cas could feel it, but he knew that name too. He wasn’t sure where he knew it from but it was familiar and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“He killed my husband to bring you here and you’ve run unchecked ever since. Seventeen good men and women have fallen prey to you, seventeen people that will never see the light of Heaven.” Anna muttered, anger rising in her voice. “My husband’s dead, my daughter is God knows where, and Arthur Novak has gotten nothing but wealth and power in return for his sins but no more! I will stop you and I will stop him.”

Cas nearly threw up when Anna finally turned around to face them. He’d seen her without eyeballs but never quite like this. Blood congealed under her eye sockets and on her cheeks but her eyes were gone. Strings and nerves hung from the sockets, bloody meat and muscle still oozing. She was pale, paler than he’d ever seen her and Cas knew what was going to happen.

Anna was going to take on Asmodeus and she was going to die.

“Stop me how?” Asmodeus grinned, arms crossed over her chest. She seemed confident but there was a hint of fear in her voice. “You’re a foolish little girl playing with forces beyond your comprehension, you don’t know anything.”

Anna laughed, a sharp bitter laugh. She could’ve kept talking but the flame was beginning to die down and she knew she didn’t have long. Turning around, Anna reached for the stone mortar and pestle laden with ingredients Cas couldn’t quite see. He didn’t need to see it though because the sudden squelching that echoed in his ears told him everything that he needed to know.

Anna chanted as she spoke, a language that hurt Cas’ ears and made his stomach churn. He could hear Asmodeus screaming at him, begging him to step through the flames and stop Anna, but he was practically frozen in place. She chanted and chanted and Cas was practically swimming in Arthur’s body, trying to keep himself as conscious and in control as possible. The chanting cut off abruptly and then Anna was disrobing, slipping her dress off. It pooled on the floor around her feet and she stepped out of it, turning back to the pair.

“I must see no evil,” She said as she smeared the mixture across her face.

“Stop it!” Asmodeus yelled, stepping closer to the boundary.

Anna shook her head before reaching for a bloody knife on the table beside her. She held onto on ear and began to cut, sawing through skin and cartilage. Blood poured down her cheek and neck as she sawed and ripped, bloody tears weeping from her tear ducts that didn’t work the way they were supposed to. With her resolve only strengthened, Anna removed her second ear with just as much effort. She was swaying on her feet now, so white she was practically a ghost.

“I must hear no evil.” She said, taking the ears and putting them in her mouth. Crunching echoed throughout the home as she chewed, swallowing them down with a disgusted shudder.

Asmodeus fell to her knees, hands clenched into fists so hard her nails pierced her palms. She bled onto the dirt and the flames burned back to life, singing the skin of her face and sending her reeling back with a shriek.

“You’re going to rot in Hell, Anna Milton! I will enjoy every moment of eternal torture I am going to subject you to!”

Anna ignored her, turning to face Arthur. She strode forward, stopping just short of the flames. “You took everything from me and you will pay for it. You will be forced to face your sins, forced to deal with your demons.”

“The only demon I see is you!” Arthur spat, Cas alarmed at just how much like his father it sounded like.

“I place a curse upon your family, Arthur Novak.” Anna said simply, almost smiling. She took a moment to collect herself, sliding the knife across her palm until blood dripped from it into the flame. Cas recognized the words and his blood ran cold.

A curse upon the seventh son

of the seventh son of Milton-Novak. 

It cannot be defeated nor undone,

no earthly magic will drive it back.  

A beastly ghoul of fire and passion,

with eyes of blue and heart of coal, 

empowered by lust in dangerous fashion

will consume its victim’s heart and soul.

A life alone is fated to be,

a life without another’s touch,

for if he dares to try and see

his soul is prey to evil’s clutch. 

The end of the line draws near and nearer,

the boy and the demon are infinitely mirrored.

Asmodeus was screaming now, an ungodly sound that didn’t belong on the earthly plane. Her skin was bubbling and melting, sloughing off to reveal a blood red scale slick with some kind of bloody mucus. Horns erupted from her forehead, sharp talons pushing her fingernails from their beds.

“You’re getting everything you deserve, Arthur Novak.” Anna said quietly. “I just pray your descendants don’t suffer because of your ignorance and ego.”

“I’m going to kill you, Anna Milton!” Arthur swore, but Cas knew he’d never have the chance.

“With this final act of my own free will, I seal this curse and bind Asmodeus to its prison. It will not be free and it will not be havoc unless the circumstances I have laid out come to pass.”

Asmodeus screamed and screamed and Cas watched on in horror as Anna took another breath, knife raising once again.

“I speak no evil.” She said firmly before she gripped her tongue, sawing through it with the blade.

It came free with a wet flop just as the flames died down completely and Anna fell to her knees. There was a mad scramble for the tongue but Anna got to it first, choking it down along with her blood. Arthur reached Anna before Asmodeus was and he was climbing on top of her, hands wrapped around her throat as he choked the life out of her.

“You’re getting what you deserve.” He hissed but Asmodeus was shrieking again, shriek reaching a fever pitch when the light died in Anna’s eyes.

Cas felt the life leave Anna’s body, felt his hands choke it out, and he knew he’d be weeping if he had eyes. Something slammed into him before he knew what was happening and then there was red smoke everywhere. It poured into his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth and he couldn’t seem to breathe. The smoke had a mind of its own though, brutal and vicious as it slammed against Arthur Novak’s ribs in a desperate bid to escape its fleshy prison.

It turned its sights on Cas when it noticed it wasn’t alone with Arthur in the body, swarming and overwhelming him. Redness overwhelmed Cas and as it choked him from Arthur’s body back into his own, Cas knew why Anna Milton had been erased from history. 

Chapter Text

When Dean woke up at eight, his bed was empty. Cas’ side of the bed was immaculately made and his bag was gone which meant he was gone too. There was a note on the bedside table but Dean’s head hurt way too much to even attempt to read it.

“Guess I really pissed you off last night.” He mumbled to himself, immediately uncomfortable with how dry his throat felt.

Rolling out of bed proved to be a mistake because his legs buckled the second he tried to stand, collapsing into a heap on the hard floor. His muscles ached and spasmed and when Dean took a look at his legs, he was horrified to see his knees covered in bruises. They were ugly and purple and when Dean finally got to his feet, he caught sight of his arms and neck in the bathroom mirror.

There were deep bruises circling both his wrists, like he’d been bound, but the worry about those seemed to fade when he finally focused on his neck. It looked like someone had choked him, wide purple bruising around his neck almost like a handprint. Red splotchy burns hung out between the bruised sections and Dean stared on in horror, rubbing his hand over the marks and wincing when he felt the pain.

He remembered the dream as he stepped into the shower, face burning with shame and stomach churning with anxiety. It couldn’t have been real, it wasn’t possible, but there was no explanation for the bruises and burns that hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep. Cas hadn’t choked him, absolutely no way. Not that the thought bothered him much because Dean was too busy trying not to pass out in the shower. It was too hot and he was lightheaded, vision blurry and limbs tingling.

He stumbled out of the shower and dried himself off, taking several minutes to try and fail at steadying his racing heart. Knowing that Benny and Lee would ask too many of the wrong questions if they saw his neck and arms, Dean opted for a pair of jeans and a turtleneck. Was it a little douchey, yeah, but didn’t really matter. Dean made sure to take just enough advil and Tylenol to not kill him before he was grabbing his bag and shuffling out of his room.

“About time you got your sorry ass out of bed. We were beginning to wonder if Cas had you tied up in there.” Lee said, trying to tease Dean.

Dean shook his head, pulling his boots on. “Had a fight last night, didn’t get anywhere. He was gone by the time I woke up.”

“You two had a fight?” Benny said, eyebrow raised. “About what?”

“Sleeping together. He wanted to, I didn’t.”

Lee seemed surprised by that, pausing to hold the door open before he spoke up. “You, Mr. 'I’ve been wanting to sleep with him for 3 and a half whole years', said no. Are you feeling okay?”

“M’fine. Just didn’t want to get into it before an exam and besides, he was trying to do too much which would be fine if it wasn’t his first time. I’m not gonna let him do shit like that when he’s never gotten past first base with anyone. D’you think we can stop talking about this, m’not in the mood to talk about why I pissed my boyfriend off.”

“Say no more.” Lee said, picking up on how testy Dean seemed. “You feeling ready for this exam? It’s finally the last one of the season.”

Dean shrugged, not particularly feeling like answering. It was taking all of his effort just to put one foot in front of the other without feeling like his knees were going to give out and send him tumbling to the floor. He was trying to remember everything he’d studied with Cas the night before but it seemed to be eluding him, his brain too busy focused on everything else. All he could think about was his dream, about how dirty and ashamed he felt of himself and his desires. He’d never felt like that before, felt a shame so deep he was nearly drowning in it, and it did little to settle his nerves.

By the time the group made it to the lecture hall their exam was in, Dean felt sicker than he had in his entire life. His hair stuck to his sweaty clammy forehead, his hands were shaking, and his heart was beating so strong he thought it was going to rip itself out of his chest. That image alone conjured more recollection of the dream and Dean felt like he was going to throw up, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat.

“Don’t look so nervous, brother. You’ll do fine, we all will.” Benny said, clapping a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder before finding a seat.

Dean found his own seat and sat, pulling out his calculator and the three pens and highlighter he always used on his exams. He’d convinced himself it was the only reason he hadn’t failed any of his exams yet. The highlighter didn’t seem to matter much because he could hear the buzzing of the led lights above his head and the sound of the girl two chairs over open-mouthed chewing her gum. Even if the noise wasn’t bothering him, the smell of rose body spray was overwhelming him.

The invigilator was talking now, droning on and on about the usual spiel. Dean knew it by now, don’t cheat and no bathroom breaks and you can’t leave before an hour. Once he had the go ahead, Dean’s eyes were squarely on his exam. The words swam before his eyes and seemed to rearrange themselves into a language he couldn’t understand. He blinked the confusion back and kept blinking until the words started to make sense and he could at least make an educated guess about the answers. They had three hours and Dean knew he was never going to last that long so he rushed. He wrote something for every question and hoped it made sense, desperate to be done and get outside so he could catch his breath and cool off.

His hands were shaking, writing barely legible, and the more Dean tried to focus on it the hotter he became. Sweat was beading on his brow and his heart was beating in 7/8 time, a skipped beat here and extra beat there just to keep him on his toes. Someone was hammering a railroad spike into the base of his skull when he finally stood up, as done with his exam as he was going to be.

Dean meant to step down the stairs in the lecture hall and hand his exam off but that’s not what happened. He took a single step down before his brain short circuited and all hell broke loose. Someone was talking to him, he could hear the voice faintly as if he were underwater, but he couldn’t respond. Dean tried to get his leg to move but nothing was moving, not the way he wanted to.

The last thing Dean thought about before the world went black was that he should’ve just sat back down.

~

Cas had woken up in a panic, sweat beading on his forehead as vivid flashbacks of his horrific nightmare kept coming. The panic had continued as he’d hurriedly packed up his things and left a quick note, rushing out the door. He had to get home and tell his mother what he’d seen, what finally connected all of the dots.

Of course, Grace probably already knew what was going on, but that was a problem for when he got home.

Before Cas started driving he scrolled through his contacts and called Thea, throwing the phone on the seat beside him. She needed to be in the loop and quite honestly, he needed someone to convince him that everything going on was some kind of stress induced nightmare.

She picked up after a few rings, clearly groggy. “Dude, it’s like 8 am. Some of us like sleep.”

“Don’t care.” Cas muttered, edgy tinge to his voice. “How quick can you be dressed and at my place? It’s really important.”

There was a tired sigh and a thump as Thea rolled out of bed, a muttered swear accompanying it when she hit her toe off of something. A slamming drawer and a few hops followed before Thea was speaking again.

“I’m supposed to get breakfast with Charlie in a half hour. Can this wait for a couple hours?”

Cas hesitated, swallowing thickly. He could just say no and let Thea have fun, save her from being dragged into the crazy, but that wasn’t right. There was no guarantee his mother and him weren’t both crazy and Thea wasn’t blood so it couldn’t affect her.

“It can’t.” Cas said. “It’s really bad. I’m scared.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

With that, Thea hung up and Cas was left to his own devices as he drove home. He was too preoccupied with Anna and Temperance and Arthur to even think about Dean and how he’d left without any warning. Dean would understand why he left, if he read the note. If he didn’t read it, well- Cas knew he’d be spending the next three calendar months making it up to him.

Grace was awake when Cas got home, the light in the kitchen telling him where she was. She looked horrible, bloodshot eyes and dark circles showing the complete lack of sleep she’d gotten. Her red stained hand shook as she brought the coffee mug up to her face and Cas knew it wasn’t just coffee she was drinking. Glancing up, Grace blinked slowly at Cas before lowering the mug.

“It’s been weeks since we had an incident. What changed?” She asked Cas, more exhausted than frightened. “Scared Amara half to death when she woke up. She’s um, she’s out getting Rowena. It’s kind of an all hands on deck situation here.”

“She’s seen you sleep painting before, why would this freak her out?”

Grace held up her other hand, bandage wrapped tightly around it. “It wasn’t paint I was using.”

Cas had to force the bile that rose in his throat back down, barely able to keep his face neutral. The very image of his mother going through that and Amara waking up to see it was absolutely horrific. Not that his experience was any less horrific but it hadn’t taken such a physical toll on his body.

“I, um, I called Thea and she’s coming over.”

“Why on earth would you do that? She’s not going to understand.”

“Well it beats the rest of thinking we’re going crazy with this shared delusion!” Cas muttered, throwing his hands up. “We need an outside perspective and I can’t keep hiding this from her. I tell her everything and if this isn’t a delusion, she’s the only person I know that’s going to maybe actually believe whatever the hell is happening right now. Well aside from Rowena.”

Grace sighed deeply, scrubbing her hand over her face. Cas was right but that didn’t mean she had to like it or agree with it. Thea was sweet and had been Cas’ friend for years but she still didn’t know her as well as she felt comfortable with. Not that it really mattered because she heard the front door open and then Thea was in the kitchen.

“Hey Grace, Cas.” She said, taking a seat at the table. “What’s so important that is has me awake and at your place missing a date with my girlfriend?”

“Remember that family tree project I was telling you about?”

“Yeah, I remember. Kind of hard to forget how insanely focused you got and how badly it fucked up everyone’s lives. Why?”

“Because it has to do with the messed up dreams that my son has neglected to tell you about.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two in suspicion. Something felt wrong, a tension in the air thick enough that even she was able to feel it without having to try too hard. The tension only grew as she heard the door behind her and more footsteps, Amara and Rowena entering the already too crowded kitchen. No one wanted to speak, Cas and Grace too ashamed and Thea still reeling now that she knew Cas had been keeping something from her.

It didn’t matter though because Rowena was steadily paling, her already pallid complexion quickly approaching corpse like. She’d known for months there was something weird going on, could feel it in her bones, but the energy in the kitchen had shifted almost unbelievably. Grace was beyond paranoid and panicked, her aura such an ungodly mess or red and purple that it looked like an ugly bruise but it paled in comparison to Cas. His aura was pure black and the light bent towards it, sucked in like the gravitational pull of a black hole. Rowena stumbled back without realizing, a sudden wave of dizzying nausea overtaking her.

“Woah there.” Amara mumbled, catching Rowena and steadying her. “Everything alright?”

Rowena shook her head, wiping off her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. She knew better than to react and provoke the two people in the room who were anxious but she couldn’t help it, a fearful expression crossing her face for a moment before it vanished.

“What’s wrong?” Thea asked. “I’ve only seen you get like this a couple times at your shop.”

“I don’t know what’s attached itself to you, Castiel, but I’ve never seen anything like it. God, I can’t- it hurts to look at you.”

Cas’ heart dropped into his stomach and he swallowed thickly, afraid that that’s what Rowena was going to say. He didn’t know exactly what is was but he knew how and he figured everyone else would be able to fill in the remaining dots he hadn’t quite been able to connect.

“Okay well clearly everyone here except for me knows what the fuck is going on so I’d really love if someone could fill me in before I go crazy.” Thea muttered. “I’ve got about as much as adoption scandal, fucked up dreams, and then Rowena’s supernatural spidey sense. Anything else I’m missing?”

“Well I’ve been having fucked up dreams about an ancestor from 400 years ago, well technically two ancestors which is super complicated. One of them’s this horrible councilor who straight up murdered a woman and her husband and looks exactly like my father and the second is the woman he murdered who may or may not have been a witch that is most definitely also related to me.”

Amara raised an eyebrow. “You figured out that you’re related to Anna Milton? How on God’s green earth? We don’t even have any records of her or any other Milton.”

“Temperance Thatcher.”

“My mother’s several times over great grandmother?” Grace asked, chewing on her lip.

Cas nodded his head. “Yeah. I knew I’d heard the name before and the dream that I had just confirmed it. Temperance was Anna’s daughter, she sent her away the night she died. But she um, there was something else weird going on when she died.”

“That still doesn’t explain all of the nightmares that you and Grace have been having. Why would you be dreaming about something that happened 400 years ago?” Amara frowned, eyeing her partner warily. “Grace has had these dreams a lot longer than you have, it can’t just be that simple.”

“They were always about Cas, never anyone else. You saw the paintings, you know why I burned them. It has to be related.”

Thea, who had always been quick to believe crazy schemes and even crazier dreams, was quickly descending into a state of frustration like she’d never experienced before. They still hadn’t answered her questions and it didn’t seem like they would any time soon so she simply reached for the alcohol on the counter next to Grace, taking a long swig. Maybe that would make them all make just a little bit more sense.

“There was a woman with the councilor but she wasn’t a woman, at least I don’t think so. He made Anna summon her and she was the one that trapped her, trapped her in his body. I don’t know exactly what happened but there was this chant or ritual or something.”

Grace was already one step ahead of Cas and tilted her head, gesturing everyone to follow her upstairs as if she had something to show them. Thea stopped Cas before he could follow them, hand closing around her wrist.

“Look, Cas, I love you like a brother so I say this because I love you. You and your mother sound sick, mentally speaking. I know you’ve had a shitty time because of your dad and the adoption drama probably isn’t helping your mom either but how sure are you that this isn’t some shared delusion?”

Cas sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I thought it was, at first, but it’s not. We dream the same things without ever talking about them or even hinting that we might be thinking about them. Neither of us knew about Anna Milton or the adoption or anything else until these dreams started and the adoption turned out to be real so how would we have known? This started September 18^th and it has not stopped. I really don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“Why would this have started on your birthday?”

“I have no clue! I kissed Dean and then the weird dreams started and I thought it was maybe just like religious trauma fucking with me but it isn’t, I know. Dean’s been having weird dreams too, I think, but he won’t tell me about them. Pretty sure he’s been getting sick but also he won’t tell me about that either so I don’t know. Look, I know you think I’m nuts and I might be but I’m asking you as my friend to please just trust me when I say something is wrong.”

“Cas, I really don’t know what to say but if you’re that sure then fine, I’ll trust what you’re saying.” Thea relinquished, knowing better than to argue with Cas. He was a stubborn asshole and only got worse the more upset he was. “Rowena’s weird sixth sense is never wrong either and I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve never seen her so affected by something like she was in the kitchen.”

Cas pulled Thea in for a tight hug before he was bounding up the stairs with her behind, crowding into Grace and Amara’s bedroom to see what Grace had done. Of course Cas knew it was going to be bloody, Grace had told him as much, but seeing a scrawled rendition of the demonic woman haunting his dreams was jarring. He stumbled back into Thea, face white as a sheet.

“Asmodeus.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

At that Rowena whipped around, her own eyes wide with a fear she couldn’t hide. “Dear God, Castiel. Please tell me that’s just a misguided attempt to be humourous.”

Cas shook his head, pulling himself away from Thea. Even Grace was unnerved, turned away from the mirror and pressed against Amara for comfort. The only one who didn’t look frightened was Thea but she looked just as confused as before. “Does someone want to tell me why we’ve drawn a demonic woman, said a demonic name, and are all collectively feeling like our hearts are going to explode?”

“If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck then it’s probably a demon.” Amara said tersely. “I think all of you should go back downstairs. I’m going to stay up here and clean this up before I meet you back downstairs.”

Grace and Rowena were the first out of the room, more than willing to get out as soon as they could. Cas and Thea followed behind, the four of them congregating in the dining room where the family tree was still spread out everywhere. Grace went immediately to put on a pot of incredibly strong coffee while Rowena hung back to stare at the family tree, eyebrows scrunched as she studied it closer.

“Your father’s the youngest of seven boys and you’re the youngest of seven boys.” She mumbled to no one in particular, tracing a branch of the tree back as far as she could with a finger. “And your mother is apparently a Milton, technically, which makes you a Novak-Milton. You’ve um, you’ve had these dreams for months. Do you know when they started?”

“Right after he and Dean made out and nearly ripped each other’s clothes off, would’ve been on his birthday so September.” Thea answered. “Why?”

“Is Dean having dreams too? Or getting sick? Have you had dreams about him?”

Cas shook his head. “No dreams about him but I don’t know if he’s having dreams or getting sick, he hasn’t told me if he has. Why?”

“Doesn’t matter why. I need to know if Anna or the woman in your dreams or anyone said anything weird to you. Think rhyming or prophecies or things that just didn’t sit right.”

Without hesitation Cas reached for a pen and a piece of paper, quickly scrawling out what he could remember Anna saying before doing what she did to the woman. He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, only that it was important. Clearly very important because the more Rowena read, the whiter her face grew.

“Have you and Dean been intimate?” She asked bluntly, already rising to her feet.

“Why do you n-“

Rowena cut him off. “Doesn’t matter why I need to know, just that I do. So answer the question, Castiel. This might be just the tiniest bit time essential if I’m anywhere close to right with my guess on what this is.”

“We haven’t. Tried to last night but it just ended in a fight.”

Rowena swore under her breath before she shoved the piece of paper in her pocket. Grace returned to the dining room with the coffee and a tray of mugs, eyebrow raised with concern. Thea looked confused, Cas looked mortified, and Rowena looked just as horrified as she had in the kitchen earlier.

“What’s going on?” She asked, tension edging into her voice.

“I can’t answer yet, I have to look at my books but I know enough to know it isn’t good. The good news is is that you and Cas aren’t crazy, the bad news is that Cas should never have been born and I’m pretty sure that he’s just triggered a 400 year old curse that’s going to kill at least one person if we don’t hurry.”

“Dear Lord.” Grace mumbled, setting the tray down.

“Hey Cas, um not that I’m totally onboard with whatever’s happening here but I really think that you should probably call Dean.” Thea said. “Just to see if he’s feeling okay or doing okay or even wants to talk after your fight. Might uh make us feel a little better than we all do right now.”

Cas nodded his head and pulled his phone out, giving Dean a call. Dean was fine, would’ve just finished his final exam if the timing was right. If he wasn’t fine, well he probably would’ve already called or texted. There was nothing to worry about, Dean wasn’t the third victim of some 400 year old curse his ancestors had lain and endured. He heard the call pick up and felt relief flood through him.

“Dean, hey.” He said, trying to make himself sound as calm as possible. “I’m sorry for the note. How was your exam?”

The voice that answered wasn’t Dean and any hope Cas had died immediately.

“Hey Cas, it’s Benny. I was just about to call you actually.”

“Not to be a dick but why are you picking up Dean’s phone? Oh god, did he tell you about our fight? Because I didn’t really mean to make it a fight and I feel really bad about it and I kind of feel really bad about leaving this morning because I really didn’t want it to be awkward but I guess it is because you’re the one answering me, not him.”

“That’s not why I picked up the phone,” Benny said, pausing to find the right words. “Has he talked to you about feeling sick or weird or anything lately?”

“No. Why?”

“He collapsed this morning when he finished his exam. We don’t know what’s happening but he’s in the hospital, Lee and I are with him right now but he’s clamming up and doesn’t want to talk about it. Do you think you could maybe come by?”

“Fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Text me the info.”

Cas hung up before Benny could, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He was deflated, anxiety bringing up the nauseous feeling that hadn’t ever left him. Everyone else in the room looked at him with concern, Rowena more concerned than the others.

“You were right.” Cas mumbled in her general direction. “Something’s going on, he’s in the hospital. I’m going to go see him and I know you said you want to look at your books, do you need a ride?”

“I’m going with her because I’ve read her books and I have a car and I’ll drop you off at the hospital because no way in hell am I letting you drive all the way there by yourself after that news.” Thea said, answering before Rowena could. “Don’t argue with me either. You dragged me into this crazy ass mess so now you’re stuck with me in it, got it?”

Cas nodded his head, too overwhelmed to do much else. He thought about packing a bag but still had the bag from last night that would work just as well. Scooping it up from the dining room table, he turned to his mom and Amara.

“If we all leave, are you two going to be okay?”

“We’ll be fine, I’ll look after your mom. Go be there for Dean, give yourself a small break from all of this. We’re all just a text or a phone call away if you need anything. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

Grace thought for a moment before she reached behind her head, unclasping her necklace and handing it to Cas. It was a simple chain with a small sun and moon charm on it, one so old the engravings had faded from sight. She’d never taken it off before.

“I think you need the luck more than I do. Now go on, go check on Dean. We’ll be here if you need us.”

Cas hugged the pair before he headed out with Thea and Rowena, making sure he checked his phone so they had the correct address for the hospital. The ride was longer than he would’ve liked and the entire time he sat there, all he could think about was Dean and how this felt like it was entirely his fault.

~

Dean’s day was turning into an incredibly no good horrible day, the kind of day that would go down in his personal history like it was the titanic after hitting the iceberg. Sure, the ship was also on fire and overloaded but it was really the iceberg that hammered in the final nail in the coffin. The iceberg in this case, wasn’t so much the exam, as it was everything that happened after it.

It was with great confusion that he found himself in a hospital bed when he finally came to, monitors taped to his body and an iv in his arm. His throat ached, the medical tape holding the bandages on his neck scratchy and constricting, and his head pounded. The light made his eyes hurt, the throbbing in time with his off tempo heart. All of that would’ve been fine except for the fact that two of his three best friends were sitting in his hospital room looking not just incredibly concerned, but incredibly pissed off too.

“Do you have any idea the fucking heart attack you gave us, passing out like that!” Lee muttered, his irritation coming from a place of genuine concern. “I feel fine, my ass. You look like shit Dean and clearly you feel like it too.”

Benny shook his head, gesturing less as he spoke. “What Lee means is that you should’ve told us you were sick and you should’ve gotten this looked at sooner. But we’re not the ones you’re going to have to deal with in a minute and we’re a lot less terrifying than she is so good luck.”

Dean blinked at them in confusion as he watched them leave the room, eyes widening when he saw an all too familiar figure walk into the room. He was fucked, the taken into a backroom and shoved face first into a mattress kind of unequivocally fucked. Benny and Lee were easy enough to deal with, Hell even Charlie would be fine, but his mother was a different story.

“How long have you been sick?” Mary asked as she stood next to the bed, arms crossed over her chest. There was concern present but there was also the no nonsense attitude of a nurse.

Dean glanced away from his mother, trying to avoid answering her. Clearly Mary was having none of it because the concern vanished from her voice, anger replacing.

“Dean Tyler Winchester, you will answer me or so help me God I will be the reason you’re here for even longer.”

“Four months.” He mumbled, watching Mary’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Pardon me, did I just hear that correctly? Did you just say four months?”

“In my defence you weren’t supposed to find out, neither were my friends.”

Mary blinked at him, letting Dean sit and stew in the idiocy of his own argument. It terrified her, seeing him in the hospital bed the way he was. She’d seen hundreds of thousands of people in varying degrees of health but seeing her own son in a hospital bed again was a nightmare come to life. The life had been sucked from his eyes and he looked sickly. Pale clammy skin and throat wrapped with bandages were the only things visible but she knew more lay beneath the gown and the blankets. She’d seen all the pictures.

“I don’t understand why you’d try to hide this, especially from me. Do you have any idea what’s happening with your body?”

“I’m not dying, if that’s what you’re saying. Pretty sure I’d know if I was dying.”

“God you’re just as stubborn as your father.” Mary huffed, tapping her fingers on her arm to dispel her anxious energy. “I know you don’t want me to worry about you but you’re my son so I’m always going to worry about you and if you so much as bring up the money argument I know you’re thinking of, I will kill you. Your health is more important than money.”

Dean knew better than to argue with Mary, especially when he noticed the subtle gleam of tears welling in her eyes. He’d scared her, more than he’d ever scared her before, and it made him feel shame. Even listening to his mother was exhausting him and he closed his eyes, trying to keep his aching heart from beating like a hummingbird as it had that morning.

“I thought it was just a cold at first or like a flu, that’s what it was around Thanksgiving. But then stuff started happening and I don’t know, I thought I could just get over it or deal with it after I finished exams.”

Mary reached out to brush a strand of hair from Dean’s forehead, shaking her head in disbelief. It was hard to be angry with him when he looked the way he did.

“They’re going to be running a bunch of tests on you, alright? Bloodwork, echos, like a scan or two. They just want to see what they can rule out before they figure out whatever this is because it really looks like your entire body is giving up on you.”

Dean sank back into the uncomfortable pillow, eyes closed to stop the fluorescent light from stabbing any more spikes into his brain. He could barely focus on his mother and what she was saying, let alone what thoughts were running through his own mind. She knew and Benny and Lee knew which meant Charlie was going to find out and if Charlie knew then Thea would and that meant Cas would find out. Knowing Cas would find out sent a spike of panic through Dean sharp enough to register on the monitor.

“Woah, hey, relax. You’re fine,” Mary said softly, trying to keep Dean laying down. “Don’t worry about who knows, just worry about trying to feel better. I haven’t told your brother yet but I will have to, you know that as well as I do. He might have a few questions if his brother isn't around Christmas morning.”

“Sam will take this better than you, wasn’t worried about him finding out.”

“So you’re worried Charlie’s going to ream you out then?”

Dean shook his head. “Cas, not Charlie. We uh, kind of had a big fight last night and there’s just some stuff going on and I feel bad and he feels bad and yeah.”

“The boys already called him, they let me know he’d be swinging by but I don’t think that he’s going to be upset enough to ream you out. It’s not anything you need to be worried about anyway, you’ve got bigger things than your relationship going on.”

“Thanks. Sorry I hid this, just didn’t want to worry you. Don’t be too mad with me.”

Mary nodded her head and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead before pulling away. “I’ll come see you again when I’m done my shift. Rest up sweetheart, love you.”

Dean mumbled a quiet response back before letting the full force of his exhaustion slam into him. He deflated like a balloon, limbs tingling and heavy as they trapped him on his back on the bed. Little wriggling worms danced behind his closed eyes as he tried to chase them, hoping it would offer some kind of peace and relief from everything that was happening much too fast. Dean heard Benny and Lee shuffle back into the room before he finally passed out again.

Chapter Text

Cas didn’t know what to expect when he walked into the hospital. Benny and Lee hadn’t told him anything and he hadn’t seen Dean look that sick so it probably wasn’t bad. But then again he was hospitalized so maybe it was that bad and everyone was just putting on a brave face to hide their feelings. It really did little to quiet the screaming anxiety taking over his head.

Benny and Lee weren’t there when Cas finally found his way to Dean’s room and he pursed his lips, quite surprised. Then again, they probably had to finish packing and head home for the holidays so it really wasn’t all that surprising either. Charlie wasn’t around which meant the boys hadn’t told her but Thea was going to so that didn’t really matter either.

Cas hovered in the doorway for a moment, debating if he really wants to go in, but ultimately decided he did. He noticed Dean was asleep as he lowered himself into the chair beside the bed, taking a moment to prepare himself for what he saw. Dean didn’t look like he was on death’s door but he didn’t look entirely healthy either, deep-set bags under his eyes and his skin pale under the bright fluorescent bulbs. What concerned Cas more than that were the bandages around Dean’s neck and the dark circling bruises around his wrists. Those hadn’t been there last night.

Dean shifted slightly, as if he sensed someone was there, and cracked an eye open. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it was Cas and then Dean’s mind was racing out of control. Cas was supposed to be mad, they were supposed to be in a fight, so why was he here? You didn’t willingly come visit people you were angry with, especially when it was about a fight about wants. Lisa had never been the one to start talks after their fights, not in the entire three years they’d been together. She gave him the silent treatment and a held grudge that Dean was certain she was probably still holding even thought they’d been broken up for months.

Dean knew relationships weren’t supposed to be like that, hell- his friends showed him they weren’t. Charlie and Thea never fought which Dean still didn’t entirely believe but Benny and Lee, who did have their fair share of little squabbles, always talked it out in the end. It even seemed like Cas’ mom and Amara talked their issues out, at least the little he’d been around the couple. Cas wasn’t Lisa, he wasn’t vindictive and a liar and he certainly wasn’t a cheater, but Dean felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and squish him like a sad little bug.

“You look even worse than I feel.” Dean mused as he shifted, trying to prop himself up into a seated position. The motion was too sudden and Dean felt a wave of dizziness wash over him again, heartrate picking up and registering on the monitor. He couldn’t seem to reach the pillow either, not with all the wires from everything hooked up to him in the way, and he felt like a helpless child.

Cas noticed and shifted, pulling the pillow up so Dean could rest back on it. He noticed the uptick in the monitor but decided not to mention, worried he’d say the wrong thing and upset Dean. “I somehow doubt that. I’ve got the eyebags but you’ve got everything else so no contest.”

“I do kind of feel like one of those cartoon characters that gets a piano dropped on them so I guess that’s fair. Which one of them called you and told you I was here?”

“Technically I called you, Benny just happened to be the one who picked up the phone. Felt bad about the note and leaving before you were awake this morning.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pillow. “Didn’t have time to read the note, just figured you were still upset about last night and that we’d talk about it whenever we saw each other again.”

“I’m not upset about last night, not anymore. We talked it over before we went to bed so it’s fine.” Cas said, being completely honest. It did bother him that they hadn’t done anything but it wasn’t the end of the world and Dean hadn’t exactly been wrong either. “What bothers me is that my idiot boyfriend has been sick for a while and didn’t tell anyone until it landed him here.”

“My mom already kind of yelled at me for it and so did the boys so if you’re gonna yell do it now. I’m really not in the mood to be yelled at again, not when I feel like shit.”

Cas shook his head. “I’m not going to yell at you, Dean.”

“Why not? Everyone else has.”

“You already know you fucked up by not telling anyone for four months so I’m not going to make you feel even worse about it. I’m just glad you collapsed in front of so many people and ended up here instead of passed out somewhere random with no one else around.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, suspicion spiking through him. He’d only told Mary how long he’d actually been sick for and he knew there was no way that she’d had the time to call Cas and tell him that information. Even if she had, him and Cas had barely talked at the beginning of the sickness and they certainly hadn’t been close enough for Cas to see any of the supposed symptoms. Dean hadn’t even noticed them the first month.

“How do you know it’s been four months that I’ve been sick?”

“Why does that matter?” Cas asked, unable to help the defensiveness in his tone.

“Because the only I told is my mother which means you know something I don’t or this isn’t real and I’m hallucinating the entire thing. You barely knew me when I first got sick and you weren’t around me enough to know so I really don’t trust this and I don’t know how much I believe you.”

“I’m not a hallucination, Dean. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, a wave of paranoia rising in his body the longer he stared at Cas. It was probably the painkillers that dulled his senses and gave the room a hazy filter but Dean wasn’t all that sure and he didn’t trust himself or his senses. Too many of his dreams had felt more realistic than this and he was going to be damned if this was another one.

“Okay then, tell me something that I don’t know about you.”

“What on God’s green earth is that supposed to prove?”

“If you tell me something I don’t know then you can’t be a figment of my imagination because it would know everything I know.”

Cas scrubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. There was no need to even play along with this game but nothing was going to get done if he didn’t. Dean and paranoia weren’t a particularly pleasant mix and if Cas ever got the chance to tell Dean what he thought was going on, he’d probably explode from sheer horror.

“When I was seven, my brother Michael pushed me out of a second story window because he said I was named after an angel and that angels were supposed to fly. I landed in my mom’s crown of thorns, absolutely shredded my thigh. If you ever get my pants off, you’ll see all the scars.”

Dean seemed to deflate once he registered the story that he hadn’t heard before. The fight left him and he sank down, suddenly seeming frailer than he had a few minutes ago. His chest ached and his heart pounded in his chest, stomach riddled with the same anxiety that had possessed him the night before. Silence hung heavy for a minute before the first of the dry sobs hit Dean, chest beginning to heave. He didn’t know he was crying until he felt the wetness on his cheeks and by then it was too late to stop it.

“Woah, Dean, hey- it’s alright.” Cas mumbled, scrambling to collect his thoughts so he could figure out why Dean was crying. It wasn’t like Dean to be vulnerable, let alone to cry as hard as he was, and Cas was taken aback by it. He reached out for Dean’s hand, squeezing it tightly between his.

Dean shook his head, trying to choke out words in between huge gulps of air. “It isn’t, none of it is.”

“Just- just cry it out then, I’m right here.” Cas said, trying to turn the panic in his voice into a soothing tone. “Don’t try to talk, you’ll just choke and make yourself feel worse.”

For once, Dean listened. He let the emotion overwhelm him and cried it out, pushing out everything he was feeling. First it was the frustration with his failing body and where it had landed him but it shifted, heading towards the fear his dreams had brought down upon him and when that wasn’t enough, it finally switched to the shame he’d been repressing. Every fresh tear and shake of his shoulders brought him closer to emotional relief but made him feel sicker and sicker.

“I’m sorry.” Dean mumbled as he pulled his hand away, wiping roughly at his face. It was red with shame and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Cas. “I’ve just- there’s a lot going on.”

“I know there is. Do you want to talk about any of it?”

Dean shook his head. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy and I don’t really wanna bother you with that. You’ve clearly got your own shit going on.”

“Tell you what, we’ll both share. If we do it that way then you’ll feel less crazy and it won’t just be you talking because obviously you’re exhausted.”

Dean offered Cas a watery but grateful smile before he settled back down, closing his eyes to try and keep the steadily growing migraine at bay.

“I’d make room for you on the bed but I think the doctors might get mad at me. Also pretty sure my mother would get mad too and she’s already kind of pissed off at me. Are you sharing first or am I?”

“I’ll go first.” Cas said, taking Dean’s hand again. It was more for his own comfort than anything. “Last night I told you about the dreams I’ve been having and that my mom’s been having them too, pretty sure I told you about the councilor being my relative and the fucked shit he did to Anna Milton and her family. Well I had another one last night after we went to bed, it’s why I was gone in the morning.”

“What was it about?”

“You’ve got to share before I tell you anything else.”

Dean thought for a moment before he spoke, face flushed red. “I’ve been having dreams too… dreams about you. Well, about us I guess. They’re um, they’re kind of why I felt so weird about last night and how forward you were.”

Cas was confused for a grand total of ten seconds before he realized what Dean meant and then his face was beet red, eyes finding a convenient spot on the wall. Of course Dean was going to have dreams like that, it made perfect sense. They hadn’t done anything so the desire was there but something else about it felt just a little bit odd. It was something Rowena had said, the questions she had asked that struck him.

“Oh, well um, thanks for thinking I’m that attractive. If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t really had dreams about you but I did get myself off to you like the night of the party. But anyway, that’s not what I want to share. I want to tell you about the dream I had.”

“Sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact you got off thinking about me.” Dean grinned, amusement briefly cutting through the tiredness. “Go ahead, tell me about your dream.”

“Okay so I’ve dreamt enough to be able to piece together what I think is whatever happened to my ancestor like 400 years ago and yes I can say ancestor because the insane family tree project proves it. Anna Milton’s related to me too, she’s related to my mom through like 2 separate adoption things. Anyways, doesn’t matter because there was someone new in the dream last night. I just need a minute to figure out how to explain this so you can share if you want.”

Dean thought again before deciding to share. Cas had already seen him cry so it wasn’t like the day could get any worse than it already was.

“So my dreams started after the party and I kind of thought that maybe I was just sexually frustrated because I was and sort of still am but they’re getting weird. It kind of feels like it’s you but then it really isn’t you and I- there’s just, they’re not staying dreams.”

“What do you mean they’re not staying dreams?”

Dean held up his hands, showing Cas the ugly bruises that circled his wrists. “We both know those weren’t there last night.  I woke up with them and I um, I had my hands tied in the dream and it hurt.”

“Those don’t look good.” Cas mumbled as he looked at them closely. “Is that what happened with your neck too?”

Dean’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Remember that painting your mom gave me? The one of that really freaky like red skinned demon thing?” He asked, dropping his hands back onto his lap. “Well um, I’ve maybe seen it in my dreams too.”

Cas’ expression shifted before he could stop himself, face paling and panic flickering in his eyes. Dean had seen the demon, because that’s clearly what it was now, and had seen it more than once if he was to be believed. Obviously it was all linked and confirmed and all it really did was make Cas feel worse about what was happening.

Dean picked up on the panic, his heartrate spiking in response. “Why do you look so freaked out?”

“I’ve seen the demon too, in my dreams. Several times, actually.”

“Well unless someone slipped you, me, and your mom a metric fuck ton of lsd then that’s not possible. There’s no way in hell any of our dreams can be connected because that means that that shit is real and there’s no way it is. No way am I the victim or you or your mom, of some predatory dream hopping entity that apparently just really thinks I’m irresistible.”

“And how else are you going to explain the fact that we have the dreams and that you’ve gotten so sick the last four months you’re now in the hospital?”

“Sudden onset genetic disorder? I don’t fucking know.” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up. None of it made sense or made him feel any better and the more Cas opened his mouth, the worse Dean was starting to feel. Everything was so improbable the impossible was beginning to make sense.

“Pretty sure it isn’t some random genetic disorder, Dean. It’s never a medical disorder.”

“Can’t be a demon cuz demons aren’t real. So if it isn’t a medical disorder and it’s not a demon then what is it?”

Cas sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Arguing with Dean wasn’t going to do either of them any good and the last thing Cas wanted to do was blow up on Dean again. They were walking a delicate line and Cas was pretty the rope was fraying.

“I’m not going to fight about this with you, I don’t want to make things worse for either of us. You think I’m crazy and I think you’re too afraid to see what’s in front of your eyes so we’re never going to agree on what’s going on here. Just focus on feeling better.”

“Why’s it so important to you that it’s a demon?” Dean asked, almost tentative as he reached for Cas’ hand to keep him from leaving.

“Because the alternative is that I’m going crazy and I know I’m not. Also, the catholic guilt of it all pretty much means I have a lot of unresolved issues but that’s a me problem and not a you problem.”

“Say that I do believe you, or that I’m at least willing to go along with the whole it’s actually a demon and apparently God just hates us and your mom for some reason. Pretty sure you should look for some kind of like sex demon or something. Only ever seemed to show up when I was having dreams about you.”

Cas averted his eyes, blushing again. “That’s uh, good to know. Rowena and Thea are kind of maybe already helping with trying to figure that out. Rowena’s got all those books and that weird like supernatural sixth sense.”

“Great, two more people who now know I was dreaming about you.” Dean muttered. “At least my mom doesn’t know, really don’t want to have that conversation with her. Pretty sure people are coming in to do tests soon though so maybe you should get going.”

There was a sharp pang of anxiety in his chest, as if Dean was dismissing him even though that wasn’t what was happening, and Cas pulled his hand away. It made sense that they would do more tests and it made sense Dean would want him to go but it didn’t hurt any less. They hadn’t gotten anywhere with anything and Cas didn’t have a clue where he stood with Dean other than the fact that they were still sort of together. Whatever that meant.

“Do you want me to visit tomorrow?” Cas asked as he stood up, eyes flicking briefly to Dean’s lips before he turned away. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’ll be stuck here alone Christmas eve.”

Dean shrugged. “If you want to then sure. Just don’t wanna take you away from your family.”

“I don’t think they’ll care, they’re kind of all pretty worried about you too so yeah. Try to get some sleep alright?”

Dean watched Cas grab his jacket and his things, waiting until he was almost out of the room before clearing his throat and catching Cas’ attention. “Hey Cas, if we make it out of this without going crazy or dying then I promise we’ll make it past second base.”

Cas shook his head, unable to help the little chuckle. Dean was joking and he’d take it. He took one final look at Dean, offered him a smile that he hoped came across as supportive, and then left.

With whatever was happening, there was still a lot of work to be done.

~

“So how long have you known that there’s been something weird going on with Cas and Grace?” Thea asked, pulling down another book from one of Rowena’s many bookshelves.

The pair had made it to shop a few minutes after dropping Cas off to visit Dean. Rowena had flicked on the kettle and quickly mixed a tea blend meant to help concentration while Thea was pulling books based off a list she’d been given.

“I’ve known since mid-October. I read their tea leaves and something didn’t sit right with me, still doesn’t. Found out about the dreams but really didn’t think anything of them until today.”

“Still don’t understand why the dreams matter and not entirely sure the paper he gave you makes sense either. It looks like a bunch of nonsensical rhyming, it shouldn’t mean anything.”

Rowena shook her head, setting both cups onto the front desk next to the cash register. “Dreams are a conduit for the supernatural and they always have been. Our altered subconscious is free to roam and run into all sorts of things that aren’t constrained by waking logic. Sometimes we replay past situations, sometimes we experience things that have yet to come, and in the case of Cas and Grace, we commune with ancestors who share the same gifts that we do.”

“So Anna was a witch and then Cas and Grace maybe got some of her abilities. See that I can get behind, but the writing I don’t get?”

“It’s a prophecy dear, surely you’ve heard a million and one different variations. If you don’t like the supernatural connotation, just treat it a bit like all those men making predictions about sporting events. It’s superstition but also a bit of luck and certainly crazy.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, shooting Rowena a look that told her that the sports reference was not the reference to be making to her. She had about as much interest in sports as she did in men. The situation was still absurd to her but she went with it, spreading the books out on the table.

“So, what are we looking for in particular here?”

“Anything with dreams involving sex, rituals that involve cannibalism of a tongue or eyes, anything about demons that might have to do with sex, and anything that mentions the name Asmodeus.”

With those instructions in mind, Thea turned her attention to the books in front of her. The ones that had indexes didn’t seem to be particularly helpful and most of them were so full of Latin that Thea could barely look at it without wanting to gouge her eyes out. She seemed to be finding everything except what she was looking for and by the time the second hour of researching rolled around, she was ready to give up. Her head was buried in the latest book, tea growing cold beside her.

“It’s been two hours and I’ve got absolutely nothing. I don’t think we’re going to find anything.”

“Not with that attitude.” Rowena mumbled, peering closer at her own book. Something was sticking out to her, a couple words she recognized and vaguely understood. She traced the words with her fingertip before glancing up at Thea. “Know anything about succubi and incubi?”

“Are those the sexy nightmare creature things? I think one of the artists at work has one tattooed somewhere but I don’t really know much more than that.”

“That’s a close enough description. They kind of just feed off of the sexual energy of sleeping people, think like sitting on their chest and making them feel worse. People say male or female but I don’t think it’s that simple, not really. Anyways, I’m fairly certain that that’s sort of what’s happening with Cas and Dean by extension.”

“Cas isn’t a demon though and I’m like 90% sure Dean isn’t either.”

“Dean’s a victim that’s not even in question. The sickness speaks for itself, I’m just not entirely sure how everything else fits into it. I think that’s where Asmodeus comes in. The name’s so familiar, I swear I’ve heard it before but I can’t place where.”

“Demon probably. Might be in the bible but with their censorship I’d check either your demon encyclopedia or your copy of the malleus maleficarum, it should be there. I’ll check one if you check the other?”

Rowena nodded her head and reached for the malleus maleficarum next to her, flipping through it and taking a cursory glance at each page. The tome was thick, heavy enough that each turn of the page thunked against the counter. Page after page she turned and scanned and came up empty. It was somewhere around page 777 that Rowena finally found her answer.

“Found it!” She shouted, moving over so that Thea could read the pages alongside her.

“Asmodeus, King of Hell with 72 legions under his command. A demon of lust, primarily concerned with sexual encounters in a religious context. Associated with November and the Aquarius sign.”

Thea pursed her lips, frown deepening. “Okay, so we can assume that like an incubus or a succubus would be under his control then. Assuming all of this is real. What’s the connection then?”

“Well, we’re going to have to ask Cas more about his dreams but it’s all linked to Anna and the councillor so I think we need to go straight to the source.”

“How the hell are we supposed to go to the source if the source has been dead for 400 years?”

Rowena chuckled to herself, smile grim as she met Thea’s gaze.

“We’re going to have a séance, dear.”

Chapter Text

December 24 had never been a good day in the Novak family, not as long as Cas had been alive and old enough to remember it. He remembered being shoved into dress pants and an impeccably starched dress shirt before he was forced to attend midnight mass with his brothers and parents. The pews had always been too hard, the Latin too confusing, the gleam in his father’s eyes just a little too zealous to feel normal. Grace would tuck him into bed at the very end of the night and indulge herself with one hug that seemed to last entirely too long and Cas would spend the night pretending he couldn’t hear his father’s yelling and his mother’s quiet sobs through the bedroom walls.

This Christmas Eve was a marked departure from the norm.

Cas sat with his mother and Amara in the living room, nervously wringing his hands together as he stared at the Christmas tree and tried to ignore his racing thoughts. They were all waiting, three of the required six already present, and it did little to comfort Cas. The longer he sat there, the more he thought about Dean and the more frustrated he got. He’d promised to visit that day but had been able to, too preoccupied with all of the preparations and instructions that were lobbed at him like softballs.

“You’re going to burn a hole through the tree if you keep staring at it.” Amara teased, trying and failing to lighten the mood.

“I’m just nervous, sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I think we’re all rather nervous.” Grace said as she made her presence known, lowering herself onto the couch beside Amara. “What’s making you so nervous specifically? I know I’m worried that something will go wrong, even with all the precautions we’ve taken.”

“I don’t want someone else getting hurt because we all decided this was a good idea. Like I want to know what’s going on and I want to fix it, I want Dean to get better, but I’ve got this nagging feeling in the back of my skull like something really bad’s gonna happen if we do this.”

“It’ll be just as bad if we don’t so your options are evil or slightly less evil, not entirely a lot of wiggle room.” Amara added, wrapping an arm around Grace. “Aside from all of the impossibility and what’s happening later, how are you feeling? How are you feeling about Dean? Or school? Or just life?”

“I feel like what’s happening to Dean is my fault and I know it isn’t but still. It probably would’ve just been someone else if it hadn’t been him and I feel bad that I’d be okay with that.”

Grace nodded her head, expression pensive. “You really care for him. He’s a sweet kid, he’s been really good for you. All supernatural things aside.”

“He’s just been so understanding about everything and then we had that stupid little fight which doesn’t even matter and I’m not about to let him die before we actually get anywhere. He um, when I went to visit him yesterday he told me that we’d get past second base if he lived through this and I know that’s kind of a little morbid but it did make me feel a little better.”

“Well if this all goes well then please let us know the next time Dean’s over and we will make ourselves scarce.” Grace chuckled, reaching out over the coffee table to give Cas’ knee a gentle squeeze.

There was a moment of silence before the front door opened and the rest of the party made their way in. Rowena and Thea were there as expected, Rowena towing a large trunk behind her, but Charlie was with them and Cas raised an eyebrow. No one had mentioned that someone else would be there and they certainly hadn’t mentioned that it would be her.

“Why are you here?” Cas asked bluntly, immediately feeling guilty when he saw Charlie’s expression sour.

“One, it’s my best friend in the hospital dying from God knows what. Two, it’s my girlfriend putting her life on the line to fix whatever the hell is going on. And three, you don’t know me at all if you think I’d ever let anyone I love do this crazy shit without me. Also you need six people for a proper séance.”

“You must be Charlie,” Grace said as she stood up and held out her hand. “I’m Grace, Cas’ mom. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“I do too. Not so sure I really vibe with an std demon preying on my best friend and his boyfriend.”

“So you know what’s going on then.” Amara said, rising to her full height.

“Mhm. Centuries old curse of some kind with a demon that may or may not be a king of hell but is definitely into weird sex shit and apparently preying on barely into adulthood adults for kicks. Add in Dean being sick, the weird dreams that you and your mom apparently have, and I think that’s about it.”

“You missed the family tree link that probably should never have happened.” Rowena said before she turned to face Grace and Amara. “Did you two cleanse the space with what I gave you?”

The pair nodded their heads before gesturing to the dining room they had cleaned up. Gone were the genealogy papers, the yarn connecting people who were only concepts, and the stacks of books that towered taller than nearly everyone in the house. There were candles already lit and flickering softly, salt lining the windows, crystals stacked on the table and on the shelves, and a general air of unease in the air. Cas’ nose scrunched up as everyone made their way into the dining room, the strong smoky scent not entirely unpleasant but certainly unwelcome.

“I’m going to be completely honest with all you when I say that this is incredibly dangerous and may go horribly wrong.” Rowena said as he crouched down, opening the trunk. “It’s more dangerous for myself, Grace, and Cas but that doesn’t mean there isn’t risk for the rest of you.”

“What level of risk are we talking here because I’ve dealt with the government and I don’t think anything is quite as risky as that.” Charlie said, hanging back with Thea.

“For half of you, there’s a risk you might get injured depending on how this goes but there shouldn’t be a risk for anything other than that. For Cas and Grace, I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen but it could be serious. You’re directly linked to who we’re summoning so you’re likely more susceptible.”

Cas frowned, eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t like that insinuation. “What about you then? Aren’t séances supposed to have like divination tools or something?”

“You’re looking at the divination tool.”

Cas’ brows furrowed deeper and he had the distinct feeling that this was most definitely going to end in disaster. The tension in the air was growing thicker and thicker with every passing moment as Rowena set the dining room table. She spread out the remaining candles and crystals before she placed a single scrap of fabric in the middle of the table.

“I’m going to ask everyone to take a seat around the table and to join hands. It’s important that all of you have the bracelets I gave you on and it’s even more important that you don’t let go of each other’s hands. I can’t guarantee what’s going to happen when this starts and if I’m channeling, I won’t be able to help you if something goes wrong. Understand?”

The group nodded and took their seats, Cas directly across from Rowena and Grace directly beside him. Rowena lit the candles, white and blue, and the incense before she sat down and took a deep breath. She reached for the people on either side of her, linking hands with Charlie and Thea. With her eyes closed she began to speak.

“Together we ask the spirits this night to send us only the blessed and the bright. We claim protection for everyone here and no evil can come near.”

A tick of silence before everyone else repeated what she had said, all eyes closed and all hands squeezing the other tightly. Another moment of silence before Rowena spoke again.

“We summon the spirit of Anna Milton to our circle. Anna Milton, you are welcomed into this space. We have many questions. Please, show us that you’re here.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as everyone opened their eyes, desperately searching for some sign that their impossible situation was real. The candle flames roared to life, spiking impossibly high before they went out. When they flickered back to life a moment later, Rowena’s eyes were wide and her grip was deathlike on Charlie and Thea’s hands.

Anna Milton stood behind Cas, a terrifying flickering image Rowena wished she were hallucinating. Black eyeless holes seemed to stare through Rowena, wet greasy hair plastered flat against the specter’s pallid skin which it pulled away with shaking dirty hands. The specter opened its mouth to speak, rotting teeth not enough to obscure the massacred nub that used to be her tongue. Anna tried to speak but it came out as wet pained gurgles.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Cas whispered, hairs on the back of his neck standing up and goosebumps prickling his skin.

Rowena nodded her head, still staring at Anna. “She’s trying to communicate but she can’t, there’s something wrong. She doesn’t have a tongue. I um, this is going to get complicated. This is where you lose me so remember not to break the circle.”

The group nodded in agreement. Thea and Charlie tightened their grip on Rowena’s hand as if preparing for a fight.

“I give you permission to use me in order to communicate with us. My permission extends only to you, Anna Milton, and it is revoked when the séance ends.”

Rowena’s head snapped back as soon as she finished speaking, eyes rolling back into her head as her mouth hung open. Her body shook, muscles and twitching and contracting, and it was over just as soon as it began. It was Rowena’s body but it wasn’t Rowena. The eyes were wrong, too suspicious and shifty, and her posture had changed. Even her voice had changed, taken on a darker tone.

“It’s you.” She said, almost accusingly, as she stared at Cas. “Why are you here? I saved you from the river.”

“We summoned you, we need answers.” Cas replied. His voice shook with fear and his grip on his mother’s hand was practically crushing. “We need to know what happened with Arthur and that woman.”

Rowena’s head already turned by the time by the time Cas finished speaking, focused on Grace. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the features of Grace’s face, lip beginning to quiver with an emotion that felt like recognition.

“You look so familiar, just like she would have looked.”

Grace looked unafraid as she locked eyes with Rowena, voice calm and steady. “Temperance survived. I’m a Milton, I’m living proof that he couldn’t erase you.”

Rowena was openly crying now, a sudden outburst of emotion she couldn’t contain. The tears rolled down her face, sticky and tinged with blood. It was only when she turned back to Cas that she noticed that he was horribly wrong. The stench of death and desire clung to him, a maligned black hole floating around him and sucking the little light from the room.

“There’s something wrong with you, something that thing did.”

Cas swallowed thickly, staring down at the table. “My mother is a Milton but my father is a Novak.”

Rowena looked like she was going to throw up, visibly swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat. The channeling was beginning to take its toll as sweat beaded on her forehead, hands clammy and shaking. Her chest heaved with quickened breaths, heart racing out of control.

“You’ve let someone touch you. You set it free.”

“He didn’t know.” Amara cut in. “How do we stop it? How do we stop Asmodeus?”

The screaming began before Rowena could answer. It started low in her belly and reached a fever pitch as it left her mouth, shrieks echoing in the dining room. Her body began to convulse, muscles and arms contracting and twitching as she thrashed in her chair. Blood poured from her eyes, nose, ears, from everywhere it possibly could. Charlie and Thea tried to hold Rowena still but couldn’t and with a strength she shouldn’t have possessed, Rowena ripped her hand free and broke the circle.

The candles went out all at once, plunging the room into darkness. Thea and Charlie broke the circle to catch Rowena’s head before it hit the table, horrified to find her unconscious. Cas was glued to his seat, horror freezing him in place. They hadn’t even gotten an answer. It had all been for nothing. There was a crash next to him, the sound of glass shattering on the floor, and then Amara was shouting.

“Grace? Jesus Christ Grace, what did you do?”

That shocked Cas into action and he leapt from the chair, getting to the light switch before everyone else. He flicked it on, horrified eyes falling on the scene in front of him. Thea and Charlie were checking on Rowena, shoving a throw pillow under her head so it wasn’t directly on the wooden table. Amara had her hands on Grace’s shoulders, trying to shake her out of the disoriented state she seemed to be in. She’d knocked a glass over at some point, the pieces laying bloody and shattered on the carpet. There was a deep cut on Grace’s hand, blood pooling in her palm, but Cas was too busy staring at the eyes he didn’t recognize.

“Get a cloth from the kitchen.” Amara said, gesturing at Cas. “We need to wrap this.”

Cas shook his head, legs beginning to shake. He didn’t want to move and didn’t want to turn his back on his mother. It was wrong, she was wrong.

“I think you should get away from her.” He said, taking a step back to get closer to his friends and Rowena.

Amara raised an eyebrow, clearly upset. “She’s hurt, why on earth would I do that. Now go and get a cloth for your mother.”

“That’s not my mother.”

Amara looked confused before she looked angry but Grace was suddenly focused, staring daggers at Cas with the eyes that definitely weren’t hers. It was unsettling as she shifted onto her knees, wiping her bloody hand on her jeans before turning to face Amara. She smiled, a toothy smile that had Amara scooting back a few feet.

“Names have power, I think you need to be more careful with what you say from now on. I appreciate the invitation though.”

Everyone was staring now, all eyes on Grace as she staggered to her feet. The movements were jerky, staggered, like she didn’t understand how her body worked. If the movements and her eyes weren’t bad enough, there was the matter of her voice. It was wrong, deep and echoey and raspy. There were multitudes in her.

“I don’t know where you thought that you’d be able to get the answers you needed without summoning me but I applaud the audacity.” She hummed, taking a moment to examine her outstretched arms. “I like this one, she’s… comfortable.”

“What do you want?” Cas asked, unable to hide his terror.

“To thank you.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than Cas was. “Why thank him? He didn’t do anything.”

“Castiel desired, he lusted, and that’s all it took.” Grace replied, still staring at her son. “Your pesky ancestor locked me away 400 years, cursed me to endure in a prison of flesh for the eternity. I suppose I should be thanking your mother for creating you but you’re the one who opened the door, just enough for me to get out. And your offering, he’s delicious.”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like he’s a piece of meat.” Charlie hissed, speaking before she thought.

Grace whipped around, gaze trained firmly on Charlie. She didn’t seem angry, more like bemused. The little one had strong feelings, strong desires, and it was enticing. But she wasn’t the one Asmodeus wanted, not the one he needed. With a flick of her hand, Grace sent Charlie flying through the air. Charlie slammed into a wall and crumpled like a paper doll, choosing to stay on the floor as her vision blurred and her head spun.

“See Castiel, you kissed Dean but you did more than that. You wanted him and you tried to take him and I slipped my little tendrils into his brain and now he’s mine. The things he dreams about, the things he wants you to do to him, well- they’re positively sinful.”

“Shut up!” Cas yelled, covering his ears with his hands. He didn’t want to hear what his mother was saying or what the demon was saying. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thea pulling Charlie out of the room and knew he needed to keep Grace engaged.

“I’ve been feeding on him for months, giving him dreams beyond his wildest imagination. He likes pain, did you know that? He’s terrified of his own desires though, terrified you’ll think they’re weird and abnormal and that you’ll leave him. But it’s okay, because I won’t leave him.”

“I’m not going to let you kill him. I will kill you.”

Grace laughed, a short sharp sound. “Your ancestor, a powerful witch might I add, died and all she could do was lock me away. You’re no witch, you’re a pathetic bag of meat with so much repression you’re drowning in it. You’re going to be the reason Dean Winchester dies and when that’s done and I’m free, I will hunt down and slaughter every person you’ve ever loved simply because I can. You, Castiel, are the architect of their destruction.”

Cas was shaking now, completely overwhelmed by everything he was hearing. It really was his fault, all of it was. If he hadn’t gotten drunk enough to kiss Dean then he never would’ve given Asmodeus the chance it needed to free itself. If he hadn’t roped Rowena into this then she wouldn’t be unconscious in the other room right now. Hell, if he hadn’t been born then his mother would be suffering right now. That’s what hurt the most, seeing his mother and knowing it was his fault that she was taking a backseat in her own body. He’d done that, he knew how much it hurt.

“Dear old Grace predicted this, did you know that? She knew you were going to come out wrong, all fucked up, she painted it. Then she burned them, tried to erase it from her memory. But it never did.”

“What?” Cas whispered, blinking back tears. Thea had Rowena out of the room now, it was just Amara and then they’d all be safe. She was already inching her way to the door and Grace hadn’t noticed yet.

“Ever since you were a child all she’s seen when she’s looked at you is a ticking time bomb. You were going to be the one to kill her, the one to seal her fate because you couldn’t do what she asked and stay away from Dean Winchester. She’s crying in here, you know, begging and screaming that I leave you alone.”

Cas could barely see through the tears falling from his eyes, could barely hear over the sounds of his own heaving sobs. He’d never asked for any of this: not his desires, not his relationship, not the dreams, and certainly not the crushing realization that just maybe he was singlehandedly responsible for every single tragedy that seemed to befall his family. It wasn’t true, deep down he knew that, but he couldn’t seem to think about anything else. He didn’t even realize how close Grace had gotten until he felt her hand close around his wrist and felt the bones snapping. Cas screamed, forced onto his knees.

“Thank you for your service, Castiel. Couldn’t have done it without you. See you around, kid.”

With a sadistic wink and one final squeeze sending another wave of excruciating pain through Cas’ wrist, Grace’s grip loosened. She crumbled to the floor, eyes rolling back into her head. Cas was still crying, hot tears streaking down his face as he held his wrist to his chest. It was too much all at once.

Thea heard the thump and came rushing into the room, eyes widening when she saw the Grace on the floor and Cas in tears.

“What the fuck happened?! I was gone for four minutes.” She said, dropping to her knees to check Grace out.

Cas watched Thea check Grace’s pulse to see if she was still alive and both breathed a sigh of relief when Thea was able to find a pulse, even if it was weak. The demon was gone, it had just left, and Cas was even more frightened. It had thrown them all around like they were nothing and it had enjoyed it. There was no telling what it would do to Dean.

Thea turned to Cas once she’d checked Grace over, eyes scanning his face and the way he held his wrist. She’d never seen him this horrified before and she’d never seen him in this much pain either. Whatever she’d missed had been big and it scared.

“Cas?” She asked, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “You have to talk to me. I need to know what happened.”

Cas finally looked up at Thea, vision still blurred. His voice was raw from screaming and crying.

“Dean’s going to die and it’s all my fault.”

~

Dean refused to sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were flashes of the demon he knew was trying to kill him. It had been a struggle to think about what Cas had said once he’d left but Dean had done his best to focus and try to reason it out. The more he thought about it, the more he believed Cas and the worse he felt. It sent him down a rabbit hole, especially when his mother had stopped by at the end of the night and brought his laptop with her.

The time in the bottom corner of his laptop told him that it was 6 pm on Christmas Eve and Dean felt a surge of frustration. He wanted to be home eating junk food and watching hallmark movies with his family but instead he was stuck here in a room that was too white, too bright, and entirely too hot. Dean mopped the sweat from his brow as he stared at his computer screen, trying desperately to read the words that swam in front of him.

His search terms, while broad and disjointed, had brought a series of creatures he’d never heard of before. Succubi, incubi, concubi, every single one some kind of demon that fed off of sexual energy and the more Dean read about it, the worse he felt. The details felt too intimately familiar, too much like his own circumstance. His eyes ached by the time he finally closed his laptop and set it aside, too frustrated to continue on his path of research. He was ready to pack it in and settle down to sleep but the universe had other plans because he heard a familiar voice.

“Dean? Please don’t be mad she told me.”

Dean sighed deeply, weakly patting the space at the edge of the bed. “M’not mad, knew she was gonna tell you. You’d ask questions even if she didn’t.”

“She told me I could invite Eileen over tonight if I wanted to and that’s when I knew. Well that and she didn’t set a place for you at dinner.” Sam explained as he shuffled in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Doctors don’t know yet. Took my blood like a bunch of friggin’ vampires, shoved a needle in my spine too.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, a spike of anxiety shooting through. He knew enough to know what a lumbar puncture was and he knew enough to know just how serious that was. Even looking at Dean just showed how sick he really was. If his pale bruised skin and sickly thinning appearance wasn’t bad enough, the heat radiating from his body and the machines hooked up to him certainly were. Dean looked like he was halfway to death’s door and it terrified Sam.

“I’ve got some news, sort of. Do you want to hear it?”

Dean made a noise not dissimilar to a yes before he settled down, actively fighting the urge to fall asleep. He wanted to hear what Sam had to say but he was exhausted and there was a steadily mounting pressure in his head that was making it hard to focus.

“D’you think you could do something for me before you tell me?” Dean asked, putting a hand over his closed eyes to block out even more of the light. “It’s important.”

“What do you need?”

Dean gestured in the vague direction of his phone. “Need you to text something to Cas for me. Tell him to check the testament of Solomon, look for the Enochian.”

“Really don’t think looking at biblical shit is what your boyfriend should be doing when you’re sick in the hospital but whatever, he’s your boyfriend.” Sam said, picking up Dean’s phone and doing as he asked. He hadn’t seen Cas around in the last month or so and had half a mind to wonder if they’d broken up.  “Can I tell you my news now?”

Dean groaned out a yes, only half listening a new sensation began to overtake his body. It started with a sudden stiffness in his arms and legs, muscles contracting before he felt his limbs begin to jerk. He wasn’t in control of them and he wasn’t in control of his speech either, unable to move or even feel his lips. Dean couldn’t move his body to get Sam’s attention and he was only dimly aware of Sam’s panicked voice and the sound of sneakered footsteps entering the room.

The last thing Dean thought before he lost his battle against unconsciousness was that he hadn’t gotten to hear Sam’s good news.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean Dean’s going to die? Well I know that you mean but I thought we had more time.” Thea said, still staring at Cas as she crouched down.

Cas was a mess, eyes red rimmed and puffy and tears drying steadily on his cheeks. He was shaking too, entire body curled in on itself and moving like a dead leaf in a windstorm. Anyone with eyes could see he was in the middle of a breakdown.

He wiped roughly at his eyes, staring past Thea at the wall. “It possessed my mom and thanked me for setting it free. Said it was going to kill Dean and then everyone I care about. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Cas.” Thea frowned, pulling a bandana from her back pocket and handing it to him so he could wipe his face. “You didn’t know what was going to happen and you didn’t ask for this. Neither did Rowena or your mom or Dean or anyone.”

“It’s pointless. Charlie got hurt because of me, my mom got hurt because of me, Dean got hurt because of me. And Anna didn’t even tell us how to get rid of this thing either. They got hurt for nothing!”

Grace stirred when she heard Cas’ voice raise, groaning in pain as she pulled herself up into a seated position. Her head throbbed and her vision swam with blackened spots but it all paled in comparison when she saw Cas. She’d seen him in all manner of tears and terror before but this struck her right in the heart. He was in pain because of her. She couldn’t look at him without the feeling of his wrist snapping beneath her hand running through her body and filling her veins with shame.

“You got hurt because of me, I think we’re even.” She said, voice raw. “Thea, do you think you could give us a minute?”

Thea nodded her head before excusing herself as quickly as she could. There was no way in hell she wanted to hear what they had to say. Besides, she needed to make sure Charlie was okay.

Grace scooted closer to Cas on the floor but didn’t move to touch him, well aware he’d probably just flinch away from her. He’d done it before and he’d do it again. She wasn’t entirely sure where to begin trying to explain what had happened or what she was feeling but she didn’t have to because Cas was speaking, voice quiet and cracking.

“Did you know I was going to come out fucked up? It told me you did.”

Grace frowned. “I was worried about what would happen to you with being around me and your father but that doesn’t mean I knew you were going to come out fucked up. People aren’t born good or bad, Castiel, and yes I know it’s been confirmed you’ve been harbouring that thing but that didn’t make you a bad person growing up and it doesn’t make you a bad person now.”

“I feel like a bad person because everyone I care about is getting hurt. All of you are in danger because I couldn’t keep myself and what I wanted in check.”

“You’re human, sweetheart, and you didn’t do anything wrong by wanting what humans do. All of us want love and companionship and there’s nothing wrong with feeling confident enough in yourself to go after it. Even if there was something wrong with it, all of us were well aware of the risks and we chose to help anyway.”

Cas sighed but didn’t bother to argue, already knowing there was no way he’d win against his mother. He didn’t feel good about what had happened and no amount of reassurance was going to make him feel better until either the demon was dead or everyone he cared about was. The pain in his wrist was making a comeback now, sharp stinging pain spreading out the further down his arm it got. Cas knew it was broken but he was trying not to think about it.

Grace took another look at Cas before she was getting back up to her feet and extending a hand to help him up. “I think a hospital trip is in order. You’re hurt, Charlie’s hurt, Rowena’s hurt, and I don’t think I am but hosting a demon is bound to have some kind of biological effect I’d rather a trained medical professional handle when it inevitably happens.”

“Pretty sure I’ve got a couple dislocated ribs.” Charlie said as she poked her head into the dining room, very clearly leaning on Thea. “Haven’t felt this bad since my first party freshman year.”

Cas got himself up, still wary of his mother. He could see he’d hurt her when she swallowed thickly but she’d get over and so would he. A demon wasn’t going to rip them apart. Not if his father hadn’t.

“I just need to lay down, that’s all. My healing is a lot more metaphysical than yours. I’ll keep watch over the house, make sure it gets cleansed so none of this has any lingering aftereffects.” Rowena said, still in the living room where she’d sprawled herself out on the couch.

“I’ll stay with Rowena,” Thea offered, “unless you need someone to take all of you to the hospital.”

Grace shook her head. “That’s fine, I’d rather someone stayed with her anyway and I trust the pair of you. I’ll take good care of everyone.”

With that said and done, the three injured parties left the house and piled into Grace’s car. Cas sat in the front, arm still cradled to his chest, while Charlie stretched out in the back with her arms wrapped around her midsection to try and keep her floating ribs from floating even further out.  Nobody tried to talk as Grace drove, each of them wrapped up in their own whirling thoughts.

Grace could hardly stand to be in her own skin, whiteknuckling the steering wheel so she didn’t have to focus on how her skin crawled every time she closed her eyes. Her insides felt dirty, like no matter how much she tried to purge the darkness she would never be clean again. She’d known something was going to happen to Cas, she always had, but there hadn’t been a damn thing she could’ve done to prevent it. Grace had tried church and tough love and then understanding and none of it had worked.

At the end of it, she’d been used as nothing but a vehicle of her son’s torment by everything that wanted to hurt him. She’d been used by his father, had distanced herself from her son, and when it all came down to it, Grace had been the vessel to deliver his destruction. His bones had snapped beneath her hands, he’d screamed because of her, and none of that even covered the way in which he couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. It felt like they would never mend the relationship that was just finding its legs again.

Charlie wasn’t scared for herself, not really. She’d dealt with her mother’s wrath when the secret services came knocking on their door one day claiming that someone in the house had hacked into something they weren’t supposed to and nothing was quite as terrifying as Gloria Bradbury with a wooden spoon in her hand. Who she was scared for, however, was Dean. Not only was he stressed about his life but now he was in the hospital sicker than he’d ever been before and she hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to him since he’d been admitted. She hadn’t gotten a chance to yell at him for being stupid for hiding it for so long and part of her worried she never would. It didn’t seem like Asmodeus was keen on letting him live.

Cas, eyes unfocused as he stared at the window, couldn’t seem to focus on anything at all. His thoughts jumped form topic to topic like they were trying to avoid rotten planks on a bridge above a raging river. There was Dean and the thought that it was entirely his fault he was dying. Cas felt like he couldn’t do anything to stop but that he’d done everything to start. If he wasn’t thinking about Dean then he was thinking about his mother and everything that had happened to her. She’d been possessed, her autonomy taken away, but Cas couldn’t get away from the empty look in her eyes as she’d snapped his wrist like it was a cheeto. His wrist ached and every bump the car hit sent a fresh wave of pain through him.

It scared Cas how much he was comforted by it. Pain was comforting, it was real. The pain told him that he was awake and that the demon wasn’t around and that he hadn’t succumbed to whatever was going on. It told him that there was still a chance that he could save Dean, that he could save himself.

Charlie was the first to realize that they’d made it, Cas unfocused and Grace seemingly quiet and dazed as she found a parking spot. “It’s probably gonna be a while before we actually get seen once they get us in so maybe one of us should go check on Dean?”

Cas blinked slowly, turning back to face Charlie as the reality of what they were doing set in. She was right, like she usually was, but he didn’t really want to see Dean in the state he was in. He wasn’t even sure visiting hours were still ongoing.

“Maybe.” He humbled as he got out of the car, heading inside with the pair of them.

Cas knew the hospital better than he cared to admit. He knew it from his childhood, from his accidents caused by his brothers to his mom’s injuries caused by his father and now with Dean’s injuries caused by him. It was all a bit too cyclical for Cas and he sank further into his pit of unhappiness the longer the bright atmosphere surrounded him.

It took an hour for them to even be admitted, something Charlie seemed pleasantly surprised by, and then the trio were left to their own designs in the waiting room. There was some soap opera playing on the tv and Cas could barely stand the noise, the actress’ over enunciated words and shrill voice piercing his skull. The hard chair underneath him didn’t help either and he was fidgeting, trying to distract himself.

“Cas, dude, chill the fuck out. You’re going to make the rest of us anxious too.” Charlie mumbled, curled up in the chair to keep her ribs compressed.

“Maybe you, not my mom. She’s completely checked out, not that I blame her.”

Charlie glanced over at Grace, agreeing with Cas’ assessment. “Okay well you’re going to make me anxious then. Look, it’s gonna be like at least three hours before they even call either of us down for imaging so why don’t you go up and visit Dean? He’d probably really like to see you.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to see him.”

Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion before she looked at Cas, silently urging him to explain just exactly what he meant by that.

“Being near him right now is like looking at an accident I caused. I feel so fucking guilty about all of it.” Cas mumbled. “He’s sick because of me, stuck in here because of me, and I know he’s going to blame me for it. I don’t want to give myself hope that we’re going to find a way out of this where we’re still a couple because that’s just not how this is going to end. He’s going to hate me if he lives through this so why subject myself to pain I don’t have to feel.”

“If you think that’s how Dean’s mind works then you’re a fucking idiot and don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

“Excuse me?”

Charlie shifted her weight again, crossing her arms back across her chest. “I’ve been friends with Dean since kindergarten and if you think that he’d blame you for any of this, you’re an idiot. He’s got at least a shred of common sense so he’s not going to blame you for the both of you being preyed on by a demon you didn’t even know you had attached to you. Dean’s been patient, hasn’t pushed or prodded or forced anything because he knows how much that sucks. He won’t force you to stay with him if you really don’t want to but it’s something the two of you need to talk about together. Give him a chance before you leave like Lisa did.”

“I’m not saying that I’m planning on leaving like Lisa, don’t put words in my mouth.”

By now Grace had tuned back in and was listening carefully, choosing to remain silent before she added her input. She understood Charlie’s fierce loyalty and didn’t disagree with what the girl was saying but she understood her son just as well. He was afraid and lashing out, trying to protect himself from the danger of supposedly irreconcilable differences. The real world didn’t work like that though, not in her experience.

“I don’t disagree with Charlie.” Grace said as she turned to face the pair. “Take it from someone who’s made more than their fair share of mistakes in the love department. At the very least you two owe it to each other to have an adult conversation about your feelings and boundaries. I really think you two should talk.”

“Fine, I’ll go talk to him then. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

Charlie and Grace shared an alarmed look with each other as they watched Cas get up and practically storm off. Whatever was going to happen, it definitely wasn’t going to be good.

Cas’ anger fizzled out by the time he reached the elevator and a cold paranoia seeped into his bones as he pressed the button. Everything was too clean and calm and he didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust his own feelings either, too afraid they were being manipulated by Asmodeus and his circumstances. Cas didn’t want to end things with Dean, not deep down, but that didn’t stop his reservations. The thoughts preoccupied him as he stepped out of the elevator on Dean’s floor, glancing up just in time to feel the paranoia justify itself.

It looked like the staff were coming off the tail end of a crisis, several people Cas had never seen before filtering in and around a few of the rooms in the center of the floor. That wasn’t what kept his attention, not really. Cas found his eyes drifting to a set of chairs in the hallway and the people sitting in them. He recognized the both of them immediately and his heart dropped into his stomach as he made his way over. Sam was the first to look up, teary eyes meeting Cas’.

“What happened?” Cas asked, unable to hide the growing pit of fear in his stomach. Was he too late? Had Dean already succumbed?

Sam wiped roughly at his eyes before he tried to speak but found he didn’t have the words to explain anything. All that came out was a quick jumbled mess that even Sam himself didn’t understand. Mary tightened the arm she had wrapped around Sam before she took a look at Cas. Her demeanour, while appearing calm, was anything but.

“You look tired.” Mary said, pausing as her eyes fell on how Cas held his hand to his chest. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Fell on my driveway, pretty sure I fractured my wrist. Just waiting for x-rays. Thought I’d check on Dean while I was here.” Cas shrugged, hardly even surprised at how easily the half lie slipped off his tongue.

“He’s not gonna talk to you.” Sam mumbled quietly.

“What, why not? He’s not planning on icing me out is he?”

Mary shook her head. “No, he isn’t. They um, I think they figured out what’s wrong but it’s not going well. He had a seizure and he’s not waking up.”

Cas’ lungs ached as he tried to catch the breath he seemed to have lost. The information slammed into him and the room suddenly felt like it was spinning. He dropped into the empty chair beside Mary, heartbeat echoing in his ears as she continued to talk.

“They think he had some bacterial infection around thanksgiving and that it triggered this attack. It’s got some complicated name I can’t even remember right now. I know it’s treatable though, the um the doctor was telling me about it. It’s high dose steroids, should reduce the inflammation in his brain and spine.”

Cas nodded his head, swallowing thickly. The sudden burst of emotion was dulling the throbbing pain in his worst but did nothing against the tightness of his heart of the nausea in his stomach. They’d reached the end of the line and it didn’t look like Dean was going to make it through the tape.

“He wanted me to text you something, told me about it right before it happened.” Sam said, pulling away from his mother. As much as he didn’t care about impressions, he wanted to seem at least a little cool in front of Cas. “It’s kind of weird but it’s probably for your dnd campaign or whatever.”

“What did he say?”

“Something about the Testament of Solomon, I think. I told him it was weird that he was thinking about biblical shit while he was sick but he seemed like he really wanted you to know. Made me promise to tell you. So uh yeah, there you go.”

Cas knew enough to know that Dean had been trying to help but he’d never heard of the Testament of Solomon. He didn’t have the foggiest clue about what it was which meant it was zero help unless he got someone who did know involved and luckily for him, he knew the perfect redhead to help him.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Mary, who had been silent throughout the interaction, turned away to fish through the bag she’d brought with her. There were a few moments of silence before she turned back to face Cas, small box wrapped in snowflake wrapping paper. She extended it to Cas, waiting for him to take it.

“We don’t know when Dean’s going to wake up or what damage has been done but I know my son and I know he’d be frustrated if you didn’t get this in time for Christmas. Between you and me, he spent a while picking this out and he’s been excited about giving it to you.”

Cas took the box, more guilt bubbling up in his stomach the longer he stared at the wrapping paper. He couldn’t tell Mary he was the reason her son was unconscious and fighting for his life and he certainly couldn’t tell her that it was all because of some centuries old curse entirely contingent on how badly he wanted to sleep with Dean.

“Is it alright if I open this on my own?” Cas asked quietly. “I don’t um, I just don’t feel comfortable doing it in front of you and Sam.”

Mary nodded her head before she reached out a hand, giving Cas a gentle comforting pat on the knee. “We’ll get through this kiddo, I know we will. Sam and I are always around if you ever want to visit, just remember that.”

Cas offered her a watery smile before turning his attention back to the box, letting them excuse themselves. He imagined Sam was heading home and imagined Mary was probably doing the same, having finished her shift. There was a moment where Cas debated going into see dean but he decided against it, making his way back down towards the waiting room where everyone else was.

Grace and Charlie looked like they were in the middle of a heated discussion about something Cas didn’t care to figure out but it stopped when Grace caught sight of Cas. Her expression shifted immediately, lips pursed together with the concern that seemed to be ever present around her son.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sitting up straighter as Cas sat down.

“It’s nothing, it’s fine. Just didn’t go well with Dean.” Cas said, not bothering to try sounding convincing in any capacity. “I need one of you who doesn’t have a probably broken wrist to call or text Thea or Rowena and tell them to look at the Testament of Solomon. Dean did his own research, said it might be helpful.”

“I’ll give Thea a call, she asked about how we were all doing anyway.” Charlie said as she got up, stepping out of earshot to make the call.

Grace waited until Charlie was gone before her expression turned serious again, voice no nonsense. “Tell me what happened and don’t give me a bullshit excuse. You look like you’re about to start crying again and not the good kind of cry that usually comes with seeing your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t talk to Dean, I couldn’t. He’s unconscious, a coma.”

“What? When did that happen?”

“Recently, don’t know when. Sam was there, he’s really freaked out. He’s the one who told me what Dean wanted to tell me. Look, don’t tell Charlie okay.”

“She’s his best friend, she’ll find out eventually. Are you sure you want to keep this a secret?”

Cas nodded. “Just for now. Just until we figure this out.”

“Do what you think is best, just be prepared to be with the fallout.” Grace said before she settled down, giving Cas the chance to open the present without her prying eyes.

It took a few minutes of struggling with the wrapping paper before Cas was able to get to the box and another minute after that the get the lid off. Dean had never asked him what he’d wanted or even hinted that he’d gotten a gift so Cas had no clue what to expect. Knowing Dean and his sense of humour, it could’ve been anything. What Cas found when he opened the box wasn’t what he’d expected.

The bracelet inside was a flat hammered cuff, a dark metal engraved with flowers Cas didn’t recognize. It was heavy when he picked it up, deceptively so, and immediately his curiosity was piqued; had Dean found it somewhere or made it himself? What was it made of? What were the flowers?

Cas had just enough time to slip it on his good wrist before they paging his name and he was being ushered through the doors to get his wrist looked at.

~

“What did they need?” Rowena asked when Thea stepped back into the living room.

The pair had spent the last few hours cleansing the house and trying to rid it of as much negative energy as possible in the hopes of protecting its occupants. They’d crashed on the couch and loveseat after that until Thea had stepped out for a bit.

“Do you know anything about the Testament of Solomon?”

Rowena raised an eyebrow, sitting up. “A little bit but nothing in detail. Why?”

“Well Charlie said Cas went to visit Dean since they’re at the hospital and he was doing his own research and told Cas to look into it. Naturally he called us assuming you would know what it is and what to do. I’m assuming it’s bible related cuz testament but I’ve got nothing else.”

“It is. It’s a non-canon book of the bible about King Solomon building his temple and I’m fairly certain it might involve demons but I haven’t read it so I don’t know. I do know someone who’ll know, though.”

“Call them.”

Rowena reached for her phone and decided a facetime would be better, leaning back against the couch. There were several rings but the call was eventually picked up, the screen completely dark. The person on the other end was moving about, shuffling in the dark, and swore under his breath until he turned on a lamp and flooded the screen with light. He peered at the screen through tired eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that my mother’s couch?”

“Well hello to you too, love.” Rowena chuckled. “And it is, yes. I’ve been spending quite a bit of time with your family.”

“And somehow you’re still calling me love, guess you really are crazy.”

“I prefer adventurous but I’ll take crazy too. I do have a reason I called though and it isn’t just because I thought waking you up on your business trip would be a fun time.”

Gabe yawned before propping the phone against a wall, taking a seat in the chair in his hotel room. “Would be fine if it wasn’t 2 am here but I’ll let it slide just for you. What do you need?”

“Your brain and knowledge as it pertains to the testament of Solomon. Specifically any demons that might maybe be mentioned in it if they are.”

Gabe held up a hand before vanishing from frame for a couple minutes, rooting around and pulling out his laptop. He settled back down on the bed with it open, clicking a few keys and presumably opening up a couple documents.

“There’s a lot of demons in this, he kind of used them to build the temple. You’re going to have to be a little more specific if you want me to be of any help here. What kind of demon are you looking for?”

“Lust and 72 legions. For all intents and purposes, we’re avoiding saying the name.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow but nodded his head, eyes scanning the computer. “Talk to me about what’s going on back home? I’ll be home tomorrow if there’s no issues with the flights, didn’t want to be away for Christmas.”

Rowena hesitated, unsure of the best way to answer the question. It didn’t really seem like a good idea to fill Gabe in on the ongoing clusterfuck. Telling him that his younger brother was a carrier for a generations long curse that had hurt at least five people wasn’t the best idea. Neither was telling him about the demon or the disaster of the house or the million other things that had taken precedence over the wedding planning they were supposed to be doing.

“Well we’re not having a big Christmas thing like usual so it’ll just be the two of us at home. Grace and Cas and Amara aren’t feeling all that well, I think they came down with a flu or something. So maybe don’t worry so much about coming home tomorrow.”

“Oh, well that’s not good.” Gabe mumbled, eyes still scanning the document. He gave up trying to read everything about ten minutes into the document, searching specifically for the demon. It didn’t take a genius, maybe someone well versed in religion and demonology though, to figure out they were talking about Asmodeus.

Several more minutes passed in silence as Gabriel scanned the relevant sections, reaching for a pen and paper to scrawl down his thoughts and a few key notes. He pulled something else up and spent a few more minutes scrolling in silence before he finally glanced back up at his phone. Gabe saw something in Rowena’s eyes, a little glint that almost liked like anxiety. Rowena was never anxious and she very rarely called him about his work.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He said abruptly. “You’re nervous, I can see it, and you never talk demonology with me. So what’s wrong?”

Rowena sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “You know me too well. How much time do you have?”

“Don’t have to leave for the airport for three hours. Hope that’s enough time.”

Rowena nodded her head and then she launched into as condensed of an explanation as humanly possible. She told Gabe about Anna and Arthur first, figuring historical accuracy was best to explain. It went on from there to the dreams and then to Cas and Dean and then the events of the séance, ending right where it had when Charlie had called Thea.

Gabe remained neutral for the first half of the explanation but the second the dreams and the current happenings were brought up, his expression changed. He looked panicked, eyes widening and brow furrowing. Rowena knew he was chewing on his cheek too, a nervous habit he’d never been able to kick. He looked like he wanted to throw up by the time Rowena finished.

“You don’t look too good.” Thea said as she popped into the video frame, figuring it was time to make herself known. “Bit of a shock, yeah?”

“You’ve known about this demonic shit for weeks now and none of you thought it would be a good idea to call the one Novak who has an entire degree in religion and demons? You people are fucking juggling with chainsaws.” Gabe muttered, pushing his hair back with a hand. “Lucky for all of you, I’m coming home tomorrow and I know how to fix this. Well, I think I know how to fix it.”

“Share with the class then. I’d kind of like my best friend not to keep spiraling with crushing guilt.” Thea said.

“I’ll email my notes to Ro but don’t do anything, except gather the ingredients I need, until I get back. Tell Cas and Mom that I’ll be able to help and tell them not to do anything.”

“They won’t be doing anything, I don’t think that that’s something you need to worry about. Cas fractured his wrist and Grace is out of it. Just get home safe, alright love?”

Gabe nodded his head, sudden resolve on his face. “I will, I promise. See you soon, love you.”

“Love you too.”

With the video call over and the barely there hope that maybe Gabe would be the one who had enough of a clue to prevent disaster, Rowena sank back into the couch. She was exhausted and not particularly in the mood for any more uncertainty.

“I’m going to call them back and let them know what’s going on.” Thea said as she grabbed a blanket, covering Rowena with it. “Get some sleep, I have a feeling we’ll probably need you tomorrow too.”

~

Mary’s breath was frigid as she stepped out of the hospital and into the cold night air, tugging her winter jacket tighter around herself. She’d let Sam take the car home since she knew she would be working late and had planned on having him pick her up but it was well beyond her usual hours and he was probably asleep. Her bosses had told her to go home early, to spend time with her family, but she’d politely declined. Going home now would’ve been painful.

Admittedly, she spent longer than planned after work sitting by Dean’s bed and thinking. The way he lay in the bed, so pale and lifeless, was all too familiar. John had looked nearly identical after the fire, save for the bandages that had covered his skin and the mask that covered his mouth. It seemed everyone she loved was doomed to waste away in a hospital bed and no matter how much training she had, it was nothing she could ever fix.

The walk home wasn’t far, maybe fifteen minutes if she walked at a brisk pace, and it gave her time to think. She wasn’t entirely sure what there was to think about that she hadn’t already thought about. The tears started five minutes into her walk and the sobs hit at minute ten. They wracked her body and blurred her vision, blurred it enough that she didn’t see the person in front of her until she felt the solid body of someone in front of her.

The man stumbled forward but quickly righted himself, turning right around ready to yell at Mary for running into him. All protest died on his lips when he saw her and her pitiful state.

“Are you alright?” he asked, deep voice shot through with an accent that belonged in the south.

Mary wiped at her eyes, planning on glancing up to get a better look at the man. “I’m fine. I didn’t see you, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

The man was tall, salt and pepper hair flowing out in a semi fashionable length. He seemed like an average man but Mary’s eyes were drawn to the scar that marred his face, sliding down from eyebrow to lip. It was violent and jarring, wholly unexpected. She might’ve been afraid but her eyes landed on the priest’s collar visible under his coat.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly fine. Simply on my way back to Saint Michael’s. You seem troubled though. Need a shoulder to cry on?”

“My oldest is sick, that’s all. It’s just tough as a mother, especially as a nurse, knowing that I can’t help him. Nothing to worry about though, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know if you’re religious but if you give me his name then I’ll have my congregation pray for him. It may not do much, but any little bit helps.”

Mary thought for a moment, unconsciously adjusting the badge denoting her a nurse at St. Joseph’s hospital. “His name is Dean.”

“We’ll keep him in our prayers and the Lord will provide for his wayward son. Have a good night, my dear.”

“You as well, father.” Mary said before she continued on her way, disquiet brewing in her stomach as she got home.

The priest stood still for a moment before a smile graced his face, eyes nothing but pools of black.

It would end, just as it had begun, with the desperate act of a loving mother.

Chapter Text

It was close to 10 am by the time Cas, Grace, and Charlie piled back into Grace’s car and finally left St. Joseph’s hospital. Grace hadn’t been checked out but she was beat, just alert enough to feel safe while driving. Charlie, who had a couple displaced ribs and some wicked bruising on her said, had been sent home with some painkillers and instructions for lots of rest and plenty of icing. She planned on milking that for all it was worth with Thea.

Cas had been the unluckiest of the bunch, stuck with a fractured wrist and a cast he needed to keep on for six weeks. The doctor had said he was lucky, that the fracture wasn’t displaced and didn’t need surgery to fix it. They told him physio was dependent entirely on how it healed and that there was a possibility for median nerve damage that might not ever fix itself. None of that really mattered to Cas and he was in his own little world, staring out the window.

“I know you’re stressed, sweetheart, but we’ll get through it.” Grace said as she pulled into their driveway. “Thea called while you were getting your cast, she said that her and Rowena looked into what you say Dean told you. They had to call someone else in but it looks like they may have figured something else out.”

“Great, someone else that’s just going to get hurt. I should really start buying 'sorry I set a demon loose on you' cards.” Cas mumbled in response, not particularly thrilled with that outcome.

“Pretty sure hallmark doesn’t make those but Thea probably does.” Charlie teased, piping up from the back. “It’ll be fine Cas, none of us are letting this end without fighting like hell first.”

Cas didn’t bother responding, choosing instead to get out of the car. All he wanted to do was to get inside, go up to his room, and crawl into bed. He had his blankets and his peace and quiet and a squishmallow that was surprisingly effective at muffling his crying. Poor Lester was mostly tears at this point. There was probably a sweater Dean had left lying around on his floor somewhere and Cas wanted to wear it, not so much for the warmth but because it smelled like Dean. He hated how much he missed Dean; even with the crushing guilt it brought.

But bed rot wasn’t in the cards for Cas and when he stepped inside, he couldn’t help but groan internally. He’d expected Thea and Rowena and the breakfast he could smell was a pleasant surprise but there was an unpleasant surprise waiting for him too. The unpleasant surprise took the form of an incredibly short and irritating brother he’d hoped he’d be free of for a few weeks longer.

“What’s he doing here?” Cas asked, voice colder than he meant it to be.

Rowena and Thea glanced up but Gabe was turning around before either of them could speak, speaking his own mind. “A hello would be nice but given the circumstances I don’t expect one. Sorry about what’s happening to Dean.”

Cas narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything else in response, hoping his glare of disapproval would be enough to get his feelings across. Grace, on the other hand, hadn’t entirely expected her son to be there and lit up when she saw him. She hugged him almost immediately, squeezing him tighter than she meant to.

“Mom, god, too tight.” He choked out, hugging back before pulling away.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were getting back today, thought you had a couple more weeks out for business.”

“Ro called me, told me about everything that was going on and I got on an earlier flight so I’d be here as soon as I could.” He explained. “I don’t know why you guys didn’t call me sooner, this is kind of my entire job and area of expertise. I could’ve helped sooner.”

“How the hell are you supposed to help?” Cas asked warily.

It was Thea, of all people, who spoke up in Gabriel’s defense. She didn’t know him well but she knew enough to know that this was the best possible outcome for what they were dealing with.

“That tip Dean gave you, well- it really paid off. He found something Cas, something that might be able to get rid of the demon and maybe even make sure Dean gets better.”

“Did you actually?” Charlie asked, trying to make herself known. She slid past Cas, curious about what his brother looked like. Gabriel, the entire three sentences she’d heard about him, was almost exactly like Thea had described him. That meant he was interesting. “I’m Charlie by the way, Dean’s best friend. Thea’s girlfriend too but I’m sure she’s told you all about that already.”

“He did, honest to God.” Rowena said. “Cas isn’t going to like it though.”

“Cas already doesn’t like any of this so what’s one more slap to the face.” Cas muttered, too tired and grouchy to care about referring to himself in the third person.

Thea showed the most sympathy and shuffled over to Cas, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. She felt him tense underneath her but didn’t pull her arm away, determined to wrangle him into going with the flow. “We made breakfast and I know you’re gonna say that you’re not hungry but you need to eat. So sit down, eat your breakfast, and let the people who know what’s going on explain it to you.”

Cas huffed but didn’t bother arguing, letting Thea drag him to the kitchen. The breakfast was simple enough and his stomach growled when he saw the spread. He’d been so busy worrying and in pain that he’d completely forgotten how good bacon and pancakes smelled. Taking his usual chair and about half of the cooked bacon, Cas gave the others the chance they wanted to explain.

“Testament of Solomon talks about your demon boy, about a weakness or way to contain him. Solomon had a magic ring, bound him with iron.” Gabe explained, sitting across from Cas. “But no way in Hell is iron alone gonna contain that dude. Your demon’s a prince of Hell, dude.”

“Like under Lucifer prince of hell?” Charlie asked, just about to bite into a pancake.

Rowena nodded her head before Gabe could respond. “Depends on the religion you believe but this is Catholicism and Christianity so technically yes.”

“Moving on and back to what I was saying. Your demon’s in mythology and books everywhere, both canon and not, and generally all the information is pretty much the same and standard. Only places that have anything about binding him, because I’m pretty sure you can’t totally kill a demon moreso send it back to hell or bind it into a vessel for a while, are the testament of Solomon and the book of tobit.”

“Like the book with Frodo and the ring?” Cas asked, slowly returning the realm of humanity as he reached the pancakes.

“Toe-bit, not hobbit.” Gabe said. “Basically your big bad demon killed this woman’s suitors cuz he fell in love with her and they got rid of him with the help of the archangel Raphael. The ritual is kind of unclear but I’m pretty sure I think Ro and I found a way to make it work.”

“So you can fix Dean then?”

Gabe shook his head. “We can maybe get rid of the demon, kinda, but we can’t fix Dean. He might get better once the demon’s not preying on him but that’s on him and his medical team.”

“Maybe get rid of the demon kinda doesn’t sound promising.” Cas said bluntly. “What’s the ritual?”

“Drink something that we’re not going to tell you the ingredients of, scrawl a sketchy looking symbol right over your heart, make sure you’re wearing iron when you meet the demon, and then say yes. That’s about it.”

Grace was the first to respond, a look of suspicion on her face. “Firstly, who’s doing that? And secondly, what’s the catch? Because there’s always a catch and there’s no way this is going to end all pretty and wrapped with a bow.”

“Someone who’s linked with the demon and preferably someone who’s linked with Dean since he’s the victim so-“

Cas cut Rowena off, sour mood returning. “So me then.”

“It would be best if you did it, yes. Especially given the fact you were the one who harboured the demon and seems to be what set it free. Now are you going to let me finish what I was trying to say without interrupting again?”

Cas remained silent, letting Rowena continue.

“As I was saying, there’s a bit of a trick to this. You drink what we tell you, use your own blood to scrawl a symbol, get the iron to trap the demon, and then somehow convince it to possess you. Gabriel and I are fairly certain that given what we’ve worked out and what we know, that the demon will be bound back into you and subdued enough it won’t work.”

“So I’m reabsorbing my evil twin then. Might as well start calling me Duane Bradley.”

Charlie laughed quietly, flashing Cas a thumbs up. Apparently Dean had found the time to indoctrinate Cas into the cult of campy culty horror b movies.

“The theory is,” Gabe sighed, “that between the methods used the demon’s going to grow steadily weaker and eventually be so weakened it’s sent back to Hell. Alternatively it just chills in your body quietly like it has for the last 21 years. Either way it’s contained and Dean’s probably going to get better and be fine.”

“After all of this, that can’t be it.” Cas said incredulously. He just couldn’t believe, wasn’t sure he wanted to believe it. It felt too much like a magical cure to be true and he didn’t want to deal with any side effects or blowback from it. There had already been too much of that.

“Well there’s no guarantee that it works in the way we expect it to considering the last time anyone may have even attempted this was back in the biblical times. But we think it’s worth it, clearly your friends do too. It’s just up to you now.” Rowena said, reaching behind her to grab something. She produced a mason jar with a thick red liquid inside, holding it out to Cas.

“What happens if I drink this and decide I don’t want to put myself on the line?”

Thea raised an eyebrow, surprised by what she heard. Cas had never really been cold and callous, it just wasn’t in his nature. She hadn’t really known him to ever be selfish either so it felt incredibly out of character. It seemed like he was afraid, that was a given, and she wanted to pull him aside and have a talk. What Thea did instead was reach out to grab Charlie’s arm and hold her in place, already aware of the anger bubbling in her.

“We all know you’re not that selfish.” Grace said. “Do you need a minute to think about it?”

Cas shook his head and took the jar from Rowena. “How bad is this going to be?”

Rowena didn’t have to answer the question because her apologetic look was answer enough. She leaned against Gabe for a moment, collecting her thoughts before she spoke. “Don’t taste it, just swallow. I um, there’s some writings about possible side effects and I’m really advising that everyone else in the room finds something else to do for the rest of the day. I’ll stay, so will your brother, because we know what comes next. Sound fair?”

“That’s fine.” He said, turning back to his friends. “Are you two going to be okay being left out of the rest of this?”

“We’ll be fine Cas. I’m gonna baby Charlie because she needs food and a nap. Will you be okay?”

“I’m the reason all this shit started and I’ll be the reason it ends, so yeah. I’m doing what I can to make it right again, that’s all that matters.”

Charlie, who had been ready to leave for close to two hours, hesitated for a moment. There was nothing she could say that would make Cas feel better and nothing she could say that would make any of them feel any better so she didn’t say anything. Instead Charlie stepped forward and, doing her best not to further hurt herself or Cas, wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“Thanks for caring so much about Dean.” She whispered, pulling away. “I’m really glad you’re a part of our group.”

Cas offered her a watery smile and watched them leave before turning back to his family. It seemed less daunting without his friends but he still felt like he had too many people around him and he was nervous about it. Grace saw it and so did Rowena. Both seemed to turn to their partners at once and without so much as a word, Gabe and Amara removed themselves from not just the kitchen but the house entirely. Sometimes privacy was warranted.

“I’m going to need a little more explanation on how to get to the demon once I drink this because I don’t think we should be summoning it again.”

“It’s in the physical realm now so all you’ve got to do is go see Dean and the demon will find you.” Rowena said. “With attacks of this nature and duration, the demons tend to like a final physical act. So all you’ve got to do is get it to vessel hop and it should be fine.”

“And I’m supposed to do that how?”

“You’ll figure it out in the moment. You’re smart, sweetheart.” Grace murmured.

Cas nodded his head and before he could talk himself out of doing the right thing for himself and for Dean, he gulped down the mystery liquid. It was thick and chunky and Cas very nearly threw up when he felt a chunk hit the back of his throat. Iron tang overwhelmed the bitter notes as Cas choked the rest of the mixture down.

“What did you put in that?” he coughed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Something that’s going to work and probably won’t poison you.” Rowena replied, taking the jar back from Cas. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just drank sewer water.”

Rowena shrugged as if to say too bad before she grabbed something else from the counter. There was a flash of light reflecting and then she was holding a sharp knife in her hand, edge wafer thin and black. She reached for his uninjured hand, holding it palm up and flat.

“Well I don’t think you’re going to like the next step either.”

“You need my blood, don’t you.” Cas muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel his stomach churning but something else was happening too, a heat he was all too familiar with spreading through his veins like wildfire. It seemed bearable until it wasn’t and then it barreled into him, doubling him over as he clutched his stomach.

Grace’s eyes widened and she hovered around Cas, still refusing to touch him. Her heart rate was skyrocketing, panic taking over as she glanced up at Rowena. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve never done this before, I don’t know! A side effect, maybe?”

Cas shifted as another wave of heat overwhelmed him, fingers digging into his side to try and override the other sensations. He ended up leaning over the island, pressing his sweaty forehead against the cool marble. For several minutes he stood there, letting the heat take over, until he felt an inkling of relief. It still ached, a deep seated need that he’d grown all too familiar with since he’d finally started talking to Dean. Cas knew it wasn’t going to go away.

“I’m fine, just hot.” Cas mumbled from his position bent over the counter. He held out his good hand to where he remembered Rowena being. “You need my blood, yeah?”

“Not much, but yes. We have to draw the runes if we want to bind the demon and they’re not going to work if we don’t use your blood.”

“What kind of runes exactly?” Grace asked, curious.

“It’s a mix, Enochian and Sumerian. The Sumerian’s pulled almost directly from Solomon and the Enochian is kind of pieced together from several sources.”

Cas had his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the sharp pain that he imagined would accompany the knife digging into his flesh. It came but not where he expected it to but higher up as the tip of the blade pierced the tip of his middle finger. The dizziness was almost immediate so Cas spoke up to try and prevent it from turning into a bout of unconsciousness. “That’s angel speak right? Dean was talking about it a few months ago when he was helping me make a dnd character for the new campaign next month.”

“They assume it is, yes.” Rowena agreed, pinching the tip of Cas’ finger until his blood bubbled up in a drip of red. She then rolled up his sleeve and guided his hand to his arm, drawing the symbol on his skin. “These shouldn’t have any side effects aside from being a little itchy when they dry.”

“The other side effects are fine, just… uncomfortable.” Cas mumbled.

Rowena shrugged her shoulders, using Cas’ finger to draw a couple more runes before she let go of his hand. “That bracelet on your wrist, Dean make that for you?”

Cas glanced down at the band before nodding his head.

“It’s cute, for one, but it’s also iron. I’d plan on keeping that on for a very long time if I were you. It’ll help keep the demon trapped once you get it inside you again.”

“Better hope he doesn’t want it back when we break up after this. So I drank that stuff and I’ve got the bloody symbols and the iron so now what?”

“Now you go visit Dean and wait for the demon to show up. Won’t take long, not if it’s taken a human vessel that can’t contain it. All the literature says they tend to get a little melty.”

“Okay, I uh can do that. Mom, think you can drive me?”

Grace nodded her head, shot Rowena a worried look, and then hurried out the door with Cas. The first few minutes were tense and silent, both deep in thought. Grace was the first to break the silence, hesitance in her voice.

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” She said, clearly guilty. “I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t control myself. I just- I feel like all I’ve done lately is hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Except I do. I have so so much to apologize to you for and there’s never been a good time for me to say everything I’ve been wanting to say and I’m worried I’m never going to have another chance to say it because I feel like this isn’t going to end well for anyone.”

“You’ve already apologized to me for lying and you’ve apologized to me for dad and my wrist wasn’t your fault so you don’t need to.” Cas sighed. “We didn’t know any of this was going to happen and even if we did, pretty sure we couldn’t have stopped it no matter how hard we tried to. Curses and demons aren’t supposed to exist so of course it isn’t going to end well.”

Grace swallowed thickly, focusing back on the road. Cas wasn’t lying and he hadn’t exactly lashed out but it still felt like it. She couldn’t help that she was feeling guilty about all of it and she sure as hell couldn’t help that she was terrified she was going to lose Cas. He’d already almost drifted away once that year and there was no guarantee that he’d make it out of this unscathed. She didn’t say anything else until she pulled up to the curb to drop Cas off, reaching out to take his good hand and praying he didn’t recoil from her touch. Cas didn’t recoil but he did frown when he met Grace’s gaze, surprised to find tears welling in her eyes.

“Mom?”

“I love you, Castiel, please don’t forget that. Now go on, you’ve got someone else that needs you.”

“I love you too.”

There was another moment of silence before Cas pulled his hand away and then he was heading into the hospital before he could change his mind. From the moment he entered the hospital he was shaking, good hand clenching and unclenching into a fist. It felt like everything was out to get him, every light or noise or wrong movement somehow overstimulating him. He didn’t know who was human and who was the demon and while Cas knew that there the demon probably wasn’t anywhere near, he still didn’t feel good about it.

He was on autopilot as he made his way up the floor Dean was on but stopped at the nurse’s station when he realized that Mary was behind it. It struck him as odd that she was working on Christmas, especially when Sam was still at home.

“I thought you’d be home with Sam today.” He said as he stopped, pausing to offer Mary a small smile. It wasn’t much but he hoped it helped.

Mary glanced up, smiling tiredly back at Cas. “He asked if he could spend the day with Eileen and her family since we couldn’t all spend the day together and I didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Besides, we could use the money and it lets me keep an eye on Dean.”

“How’s he doing today?”

“About the same as yesterday so no change. It’s too early to tell if the treatment’s helping though. He’d be so thrilled to know that you’re here.”

“I’m just gonna sit with him for a while I think. One of my brothers is back in town and it’s just been too chaotic for me at home right now. I’ll stop by if you’re around when I’m done.”

Mary nodded her head, wished Cas a merry Christmas, and then turned back to the work she had been doing before. Cas hadn’t been in Dean’s hospital room since he’d fallen into the coma so it shocked him a little bit when he stepped inside. The machines seemed to be the same but Dean didn’t look the same at all.

Dean’s skin was pale and sallow and the reddish bags under eyes made it look like he was losing a fight. He looked a bit like sleeping beauty’s slightly hungover cousin and Cas had to stifle an awkward chuckle at the thought. It wasn’t funny but the thought made him less nervous.

“Maybe I should pull a Grimm and just kiss you awake.” Cas mused to himself. “I already drank the gross potion and you’re already in a supernaturally induced coma so we’re like two thirds of the way there. I’d tell you not to have sexy obsessive dreams about me but given your history I don’t think that’s good advice.”

Dean didn’t respond but there was the slightest uptick in the heart rhythm displayed on the monitor. Cas took that as a sign that he was listening and decided to keep talking.

“We think we’ve found a way to fix this but I don’t know how well it’s actually going to work and I know you can’t really get your hopes up because you’re unconscious but everyone else seems to think it’s this big sure fire thing. I think either way one of us is going to be disappointed because yeah, if it works then you’ll be okay but then we’ll break up. If it doesn’t work then you die and we break up by default and then it’s my fault anyway. So either way it’s all my fault.”

Cas reached out with his good hand to take Dean’s hand, unsurprised to find it clammy and cooler than usual. Dean ran hot, always had, so it felt wrong that Cas’ hand was warmer than his. The momentary shock was enough to leave him in silence and that’s the way he sat for several minutes, just staring at Dean as he let his thoughts run amok. As the clock ticked on and the time passed, Cas dug himself deeper and deeper into the spiraling anxiety pit of everything being his fault. It was only when he was suitably upset that he felt someone behind him.

The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, goosebumps erupting across his skin, and the anxiety dropping his stomach through the floor. Whoever was behind him was not a good person and when Cas felt the sudden heat spread through his veins, he knew exactly who it was. It was now or never and Cas didn’t feel good about it.

“Admiring your handiwork?”

Cas shivered despite himself, refusing to turn around and meet the gaze of whoever Asmodeus was wearing as a meatsuit. “I’m not the one who preyed on him, it’s your handiwork not mine.”

“I did a damn good job too, won’t take me long to finish him off. Never did get to thank you properly for getting me out into the real world so thank you. I’d very nearly forgotten how good it feels to be in a body.”

Cas swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, refusing to be goaded into slipping up. He’d assumed he’d have more time than he had to come up with a plan and the panic was beginning to set in now. The demon was older than him, stronger too, so there was zero chance he’d win in a fight. His fractured wrist likely wouldn’t help either. With physicality taken out of the mix that left a battle of will and trickery as his only option.

Cas couldn’t just tell the demon to possess him right off the bat, it would be too suspicious. Nothing said it’s a trap quite like willingly offering yourself up to the thing that you’d been trying to fight for months. He doubted the demon would be keen to be back in his body anyway, not after being trapped in it for so many years. It was only when he felt his arm itch that he remembered Rowena’s words.

“Your body’s failing you though,” he said matter of factly. “Surely you can feel that.”

“My vessel, yes. Not my body. There’s a difference.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, chewing on his lip to distract himself from the panic rising in his body. “Either way, you’re not gonna last long and with a physical body I don’t think you’re stupid enough to kill Dean with me in the room.”

“He’ll die either way, look at him.” Asmodeus said, gesturing to Dean who looked paler than he had a few minutes ago. “I can feel him sleeping away and I will suck him dry. I could very well do it in his dreams and then we wouldn’t need to have this discussion.”

“But we are having this discussion so something isn’t right.”

Asmodeus sighed next to Cas before putting a hand on his shoulder, grip bruisingly tight. Cas winced as pain spiked down his sore arm but it seemed pale in comparison to the racing of his own heart. Something was wrong but he didn’t know what it was and Asmodeus didn’t entirely seem like he knew what the issue was either. It was a game of cat and mouse and Cas had a feeling neither of them really knew who the other was.

“The remarkable restraint the pair of you have shown is proving meddlesome.” Asmodeus admitted, grip tightening on Cas’ shoulder. “I had planned on you two consummating the relationship before we reached this stage.”

Cas shuddered, disgusted. It gave him an idea though, a horribly disgusting idea he knew was his only chance.

“Dean’s going to die, I heard the doctors say it. You said it yourself and obviously you know better because you’re in his head. If you were to kill him, would it be quick?”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “It may be possible but that would require a very particular set of circumstances that have no yet occurred.”

“I don’t like seeing him like this, it’s not fair. He doesn’t deserve to hurt and I don’t deserve to feel this guilty over something that isn’t technically my fault. Even if he did live, we’d just break up and neither of us would be happy.”

“So you want Dean Winchester dead?” Asmodeus asked, a slight edge of excitement colouring his voice. “That seems unlike you.”

“Like I said, I’m tired of feeling guilty and I really would rather not get broken up with. I don’t hate him and I feel bad for him but this is what we’d call an old yeller situation. He’s sick, not likely to get better, so the best option is to take him out to the back shed and put him down like an animal. I’m sure you agree.”

Asmodeus withdrew his hand from Cas’ shoulder. He’d seen all manner of humanity over the millennia he’d existed but this was a new experience. Castiel had been repressed when they’d shared a body and he’d been irritatingly considerate of every single person around him. He was kind, through and through. But this, this was an entirely different person. This Castiel seemed harder, angrier. He was ready to end things, to end Dean, and who was Asmodeus to deny him that shared experience.

“Just how far are you willing to go to end Dean Winchester’s suffering?”

“As far as I need to.”

Asmodeus smiled again. He stretched his arms over his head before shifting on the balls of his feet, clearly pleased. “Tell you what, Castiel, I think there’s a way we can make this beneficial for the both of us.”

Cas finally turned around to face Asmodeus, getting a good look at the priest whose body the demon had so clearly borrowed. He said nothing, allowing Asmodeus to elaborate.

“Give me your body, that’s all I ask. I’ll back off long enough for Dean to recover but when he’s recovered enough to want you, I’ll take over. I get to feed off him and you get the opportunity to experience pleasure for the first time without worrying about being horrible at it. Realistically, it’s a win-win for the both of us.”

Cas swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as a response. It was the offer he needed to trap Asmodeus but the glee with which the demon pitched the idea was revolting. There was no world in which Cas actually liked the idea. A demon ride-along and a backseat to his first time with Dean felt not only disingenuous but uncomfortably non-consensual. Dean didn’t want to sleep with a demon and tricking him into doing so wasn’t fair. Cas took a deep breath, preparing himself for the fallout of his answer.

“If I give you permission to do that, what’s to stop you from riding with me for the rest of my life? What’s to stop you from killing my friends and family like you threatened? I can’t say yes without a guarantee.”

“Give me what I want and I’ll leave your friends and family alone, that I will promise. I have spent far too long trapped within the Novak lineage and I am not interested in continuing to do so. Besides, Dean is the most interesting thing about this and he’ll be dead afterwards.”

Cas thought for a minute, weighing the risks and benefits, before he nodded his head.

“I need your verbal consent.” Asmodeus said, unable to hide the glee in his voice. “This won’t work without it.”

“I give you consent to possess me until Dean Winchester is dead.”

There was a moment of peace before the world descended into chaos. Lightbulbs flickered and burned bright until they shattered, raining glass down in every room on the floor. Everyone was plunged into darkness before the red emergency lights kicked on and then Cas was facing an empty space. The priest was unconscious on the floor and thick black smoke swirled in the room before it made a beeline for Cas.

He was choking before he knew what was happening. It filled his mouth and nose and lungs, cutting him off from the air he so desperately craved. Cas’ vision darkened and he dropped to his knees, pulling at the collar of his sweater to try and get any amount of air. It took a minute as Cas’ consciousness began to fade and then he slipped into the blackness.

Everything was black when Cas regained consciousness. Brackish water pooled around his bare feet and he shivered, the realization he didn’t know where he was slamming into him like a truck. When he glanced up at what he imagined would be a black expanse, it wasn’t what he found.

The face of his nightmares stared back at him, sharpened teeth bared at him from behind peeled back lips. Thick iron manacles and even thicker chains bound muscular arms and the chains didn’t appear to have a beginning. Beady black eyes sought Cas’ gaze and when the demon spoke, its voice slammed into him like razor wire.

“What have you done?!” It roared, arms shaking as it pulled at the chains that trapped it.

Cas blinked slowly, the sheer magnitude of what he had just successfully done slowly sinking in. The corner of his lips curled up into a satisfied smirk and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I won.”

Asmodeus screamed at Cas as he tried to rip the chains from their invisible moorings. The iron began to glow, an eerie red colour lighting up the darkness and a sizzling noise filling it. Demonic skin bubbled and blistered as the iron held steadfast. Cas felt a sickening pleasure twist his stomach into knots. He took a brave step forward before he made direct eye contact with Asmodeus.

“You’re stuck now.” He said, brave enough to reach out and grab one of the demon’s thick horns. “It’s a knockout punch combination my ancestor didn’t have access to that I did. So you’re done terrorizing Dean and you’re done terrorizing my family.”

Asmodeus tried to lunge at Cas but more chains shot form the darkness, wrapping themselves around his chest and pulling him down onto his knees. He knelt now, subservient to the vessel that had engineered his demise.

Cas’ grip tightened on the horn and he could feel it buckling under the pressure. He took a deep breath before he yanked, hard. The horn tore free from Asmodeus’ flesh with a sickening noise and hot blood sprayed across Cas’ face. He didn’t mind it.

“You’re going to stay locked away in my body and rot until you fade into nothingness. Every day I’ll be happy and pleased knowing you’re in here suffering just like you have for the past 400 years.”

He gripped the horn tighter, offering one more bloodstained grin before he plunged the horn into Asmodeus’ chest and sent his unconscious mind into darkness once more.

Chapter Text

When Cas came to, the lights were back on in the room and the hallway. His jaw ached from clenching it and his shoulder ached from where Asmodeus had gripped it. The priest was nowhere to be found when he glanced down at the floor and his eyebrow raised in suspicion. Something weird had to have happened. That or this was some kind of fever dream and nothing was actually real.

Dean sill lay unconscious in front of him but something had changed. His skin wasn’t quite as sallow, his breathing not quite as laboured. It wasn’t a big change but it was something.

“I really hope I didn’t fuck everything up.” Cas mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of nausea overtook him. It passed a few minutes later and Cas breathed a sigh of relief, opening his eyes again. He thought about staying for a while but ultimately decided against it. There was no telling what would happen if Dean’s condition changed. Cas stood up and debated for a moment before deciding to lean down and press a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

It very well could be the last kiss they ever shared.

Cas decided against texting someone for a ride back home, opting instead to walk back and spend some time alone with his thoughts. For the first few minutes it was peaceful but then the thoughts began to seep in like water through a crack in the wall; brackish and full of poison, they tormented him. He had a demon inside of him now, so was he evil? Was housing evil enough to poison him? Cas knew that months ago, years ago even, when he had believed in God that he knew he would’ve been poisoned and barred from heaven. But now, well he wasn’t so sure. If demons existed then hell had to and heaven had to but Cas didn’t think it mattered either way. There wasn’t a single person on the planet who was good enough to get into heaven so why worry about it.

He did, however, worry about what housing Asmodeus would do to his body. Rowena had mentioned the potential for side effects but he didn’t know what they would be, if they even showed up. Would he start growing horns or spikes? Would his tendencies change? Cas had barely begun to figure out who he was and what he wanted and this had thrown a giant demon shaped wrench into that. He knew he’d figure it out eventually but the uncertainty was frustrating.

Cas was still deep in thought by the time he actually made it home, chewing his lip as he closed the front door and slipped his shoes off. He still seemed out of it as he passed by the living room, only stopping when he heard his name.

“Cas, hey! How’d it go?” Gabe asked from his spot on the couch, Rowena curled up next to him.

It took Cas a moment to figure out who was talking and another moment to figure out what to say, voice coming out in a flat tone. “It was fine.”

Gabe didn’t say much in response but Rowena raised an eyebrow, knowing something was up. She pulled away from Gabriel and got off of the couch, taking a couple steps over to Cas.

“Everything alright?” She asked, genuinely concerned.

“It’s fine, got the demon trapped.” Cas replied, trying not to sound as overwhelmed as he really was. “I’m just going to go lay down for a while. Thanks for all your help though, I really appreciate it.”

Cas said nothing else as he turned his back on everyone in the living room, deciding he needed to take a shower and figure everything out. The noise of the fan and the water hitting the bottom of the shower became background noise as Cas undressed, staring at himself in the mirror. He looked almost the same as he had months ago, same lean frame and small smattering of scars on his legs from when Michael had pushed him into a crown of thorns. They were raised when he ran his fingers over them and he vaguely wondered if they were deserved.

Hot water turned his skin red as he stepped into the shower, earning him a wince. It was uncomfortable but Cas didn’t mind it. The discomfort was a distraction. He stood in the water for a few minutes before the thoughts finally broke the dam in his brain. Tears came fast, emotion choking him as Cas finally let himself feel everything he’d been repressing. The fear, the anger, the terror that he’d hurt and been hurt by so many people and things out of his control. He scrubbed at his body, skin turning red the longer he went. Scrubbing meant he was uncomfortable but it was a discomfort he could control, the only thing he felt like he could control.

He was still overwhelmed by the time he dragged himself out of the shower, removing the bag that had protected his cast. Cas found a pair of sweats and Dean’s hoodie in his closet, slipping into them before he found his bed. He crawled into it and buried his face in the pillow before he let himself cry again. It was ugly, big heaving sobs muffled only by the pillow. The bed dipped a few minutes later and then there was a hand on his shoulder rubbing gently.

“Just let it out, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” Grace murmured, her voice soft and calming.

Cas did let it out, crying until he couldn’t anymore. He felt Grace’s hand rubbing ever so gently and despite how wary he still was, it did help. When he couldn’t cry anymore he pulled himself up into a seated position and leaned against his mother, seeking comfort from her. She wrapped her arm around him, squeezing gently.

“I’m here if you need to talk or if you just need someone to be here right now.” She said. “I know it must be scary dealing with all of this right now.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be myself anymore.”

Grace’s expression shifted, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got a demon inside of me now and I don’t- it’s going to change me. I don’t know who I am, I’ve barely figured it all out, and there’s no way I’m going to know now. Everything is going to change and I don’t like it and I’m terrified.”

“Do you want advice or do you just need me to listen?”

“I don’t know.” Cas admitted, leaning further against his mother. It felt like he was a child again, coming home to the arms of his mother crying about the way the world worked.

“Tell you what, I’ll start talking and at any point if you don’t want to hear it then you tell me to stop. Is that okay?”

Cas nodded his head. Maybe his mother would have some kind of wisdom that he didn’t have. Mothers always seemed to have that.

“It’s alright to be scared, that’s the first thing you need to know. Changes are happening and they’re out of your control and of course that’s scary, it would be scary for anyone. Change is a part of life though and it’s always going to be so we’ve got to learn to deal with those changes. Sometimes it’s dealing with divorcing an awful husband and sometimes it’s adjusting to knowing you have a demon in your body. There’s a difference for you though and that’s that you’re young enough to change. Also that you’ve had that demon in your body all your life anyway.”

“I didn’t know about the demon before and now I know about it. That makes it different.”

“How does that make this different?” Grace asked, curious as to what Cas would say about it.

Cas thought for a moment, but wasn’t entirely sure on the correct answer. He wasn’t even sure there was a correct answer. “It just- it does.”

“See I don’t think it does.” Grace said honestly. “Even before you knew about the demon you were kind and honest. Knowing that the demon exists doesn’t actually change anything, it just adds a slightly more complicated element to things. You can still be kind and caring because the demon isn’t you and it doesn’t define you. All that defines you is what you do and what you’ve done is different than what you haven’t done.”

Cas’ brows furrowed as he listened to his mother, trying his best to think deeply about what was happening. He wasn’t entirely sure that he agreed with what she was saying but Grace was still talking so he kept his mouth shut and listened.

“I don’t know very many people who would be willing to put their life on the line to save someone else from a supernatural threat at risk to their own person. I also don’t know very many people that would care enough for someone else to do that. Sure you may not be perfect but you were selfless and that doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re human, Castiel, and that means that you make mistakes. Lord knows we all do.”

“My mistake might’ve gotten Dean killed though. I don’t think that that makes me selfless.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose and when you found out about it, you tried to fix it immediately. That alone speaks volumes to your character and I certainly don’t think anyone is going to blame you for something that you didn’t know about or do on purpose.”

Cas took a deep breath before he pulled away from his mother, shifting slightly so he could face her. It felt a little odd to be getting so personal about his love life while she was still hugging him. She was making sense but he still didn’t believe her entirely.

“I’m scared about what happens if Dean wakes up. I feel so guilty about what happened and I feel like he’s going to want to breakup. If he does that’s fine and I’ll let him but I don’t want to.”

“What makes you think he’ll want to break up?”

“Because no one in their right mind is going to stay with someone who quite literally made them sick enough to hospitalize them. He knows about the demon and the dreams yeah he’s cool with a lot of that stuff but I don’t think he’s cool enough to want to stay together. It’s not exactly sexy seeing someone you know pretty much gave you a supernaturally induced illness. It’s practically the same as giving him like an std if we’d actually slept together.”

Grace nodded her head, listening to what Cas was saying. So much of it felt intimately familiar, the same kind of rhetoric that she herself had used to justify distancing herself from Amara. Distancing seemed to be a family thing, much like supernatural dreams.

“I can’t tell you what Dean will or won’t do because I’m not Dean but I’ve been around him enough to know that something like this isn’t likely to scare him away. He cares about you and you care about him and often times that’s enough. It was enough for me, enough for close to 33 years.”

“You two knew each other for a while before that though, you’d done stuff before. Dean and I haven’t done anything so it’s not worth him staying.”

“I think that that’s something that he’ll have to decide sweetheart and unfortunately that’s going to take time.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. The crying had given him a headache, the conversation hadn’t made him feel any better, and the warm churning feeling in his stomach was quickly returning. It all felt like too much and Cas didn’t want to deal with anyone. All he wanted to do was sleep.

“This sucks.” Cas muttered, crawling under his sheets with the wish that the blankets would be heavy enough to crush his worries away. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Well try not to think about it for tonight, you’ve done all that you can. There’s no point in thinking about something you can’t do anything else about. Do you want me yo bring you some tea later?” Grace said, pulling the blankets up as she stood.

Cas shrugged, burrowing further into his nest of blankets. “Maybe a bit later. I think I just want to wallow alone for a bit.”

“I’ll bring some in a couple hours then. Just know that I’m proud of you for doing what you did to try and help Dean. I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, mom.”

Grace offered Cas a final smile before she let him be, closing his door to give him some privacy. He lay there for a while, alone with his own changing thoughts until sleep finally claimed him.

~

When Dean woke up, he was confused.

He saw the bright lights when his eyes finally cracked open, heard their irritating buzzing, and all around was not thrilled by them. The tube in his nose and the scratchy medical tape on his arms weren’t all that great either. Everything hurt from the throbbing in his head down to the stiffness in his legs. He didn’t remember falling asleep and judging by the sudden crowd of medical professionals in his room, he had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t prepared for him to wake up.

There were a million questions immediately as they poked and prodded at him, cold metal objects touching his skin. Dean did his best to answer them but his head hurt so badly he couldn’t seem to get out the kind of words that they wanted from him. He didn’t like when they decided they needed to draw blood from him, swearing under his breath when they missed a vein. They poked and prodded him for a good half hour before they were done and the team left before Dean could ask for a glass of water for his scratchy throat.

It took a half hour before someone else stopped his room and was able to get him some water and then a few minutes later there was another doctor talking to him and assessing him. He didn’t know what they were asking but answered the best he could with his brain still feeling like it had been pulverized by a meat tenderizer. It was several hours later when he was finally left alone that he was able to sink back into the pillows and close his eyes. He heard the footsteps a few minutes into his alone time and sighed.

“Don’t really feel like being poked and prodded so get it over with quick.” He mumbled, automatically holding out his arm.

“I’m not going to poke you, Dean. I would however like to strangle you for scaring me half to death by pulling the stunt you did.”

Dean knew his mother’s voice like the back of his hand and his eyes flew open, landing on her. She looked exhausted, bags under her eyes and grey in the hair she had forgotten to dye away. Mary was smiling though, a watery kind of smile Dean had only seen her make a few times.

“Didn’t mean to, m’sorry.” He mumbled, watching her pull a chair up next to the bed.

Mary reached out to hold one of Dean’s hands, squeezing it tight enough that he almost winced. She did ease up after that but her expression still seemed somber. “Don’t apologize, I’m just glad that you’re alright. We were hoping you’d respond to the treatment.”

“You weren’t treating me for anything though.” He said, confusion returning. “You weren’t sure what was going on so how would you know how to treat me?”

“You had a seizure two weeks ago, they kept you in a coma so that the treatment might work better. It was an inflammation of the brain and spinal cord causing all of the problems, not going to bother going into the details since you responded and I think you’ll be alright.”

“What do you mean I had a seizure two weeks ago? What day is it?”

“It’s January eighth. Like I said, you’ve been out for two weeks.”

Dean’s eyes widened, spike in heart rate enough to register on the monitor. He didn’t remember the seizure and he didn’t remember passing out, didn’t know he’d been out that long either. It had felt a bit like nothing interspersed with bits of voices he only half recognized telling him that he was going to be okay. What it did explain was why his throat was so scratchy and why his muscles felt so stiff. The hospital beds weren’t the most comfortable.

“I missed the first week of classes.” Dean mumbled, clearly alarmed. “I missed Christmas and New Year’s and god everyone’s probably so mad at me.”

Mary shook her head, unable to stop the slight chuckle. “Leave it to you to be more upset about the fact that you missed things with your friends than the fact you could’ve died. Your friends have been taking notes in class for you, they’ve been stopping by the house to drop them off and see how we’ve been doing.”

Dean relaxed slightly, sinking back into the bed. His friends took decent notes so maybe he wouldn’t be screwed for classes and obviously they took the time to check on his family. Of course they would do that, they were a good group.

“What about Cas? Did he show up? Cuz Sam was supposed to give him a message.”

“He got the message, don’t worry.”

Dean frowned, picking up on the complete lack of a proper answer. He knew his mother was crafty with how she answered questions but there was a tone of hesitancy in it, a tone he didn’t like.

“You hesitated. Why?”

Mary sighed, hope that he hadn’t notice completely dashed. “He hasn’t been by in a couple weeks but he has a reason. His mother says that he’s had a pretty bad stomach bug, he’s apparently been in bed for most of it.”

“Oh. I mean if he’s sick then he’s sick, nothing anybody can do about that. He’ll visit if he can or I’ll go visit whenever I get out of here and between you and me, I’m really hoping it’s soon. This bed isn’t comfortable and the food’s even worse.”

“They’ll keep you for a little bit yet, there’s several tests that you’ll have to do.” Mary said, letting go of his hand. “I’ll let you get some rest though, I’ve unfortunately got some work to do. Do you want me to call Sam and see if he’ll come to visit?”

Dean nodded. “Please. He had some news he wanted to tell me and he didn’t get the chance to.”

“I’m glad you’re alright. Really glad you pulled through, we were all worried. Mary said, offering Dean one more tiny smile before she was out of the room and back to doing her job.

Dean waited until Mary was gone before he shifted on his side, scanning the bedside table to see if he could find his phone. It was there and when he reached for it, he found that it was charged. He thanked whatever God there was (it was probably Charlie) for that and turned it on, hoping to find a couple messages from Cas.

There were none and Dean’s heart sank. If Cas was sick like Mary said then it made sense but it still hurt all the same. Dean remembered the conversation they’d had before he’d apparently been comatose, the crazy dreams and demons and horrific supernatural element of it all. He remembered admitting the sexual dreams and the demon and he remembered Cas admitting he knew the demon existed. Something about that made his heart jump with worry and he pulled up his messages with Cas. Dean thought for a moment before he typed out a message.

So I’m not dead, surprise. Heard you’re sick, guess I traded off with you

It was a stupid message to send, lacked any kind of finesse or sense, but Dean didn’t delete. He didn’t expect Cas to get back to him all that quickly so he set his phone down, deciding he needed to focus less on his hopefully still boyfriend and more on making himself feel better.

They could get together and debrief when Dean was out of the hospital.

~

The side effects hit Cas a week after he’d taken Asmodeus back into himself. It started out small, a weird little heat that stayed nestled deep in his abdomen but it didn’t stay like that for long. A few days after he noticed the heat, Cas knew something was wrong. He woke up with a headache and drenched in sweat, body shivery and clammy.

He told himself it was a stomach bug at first, that he just had some kind of fever or flu and that that was why he was sick, but deep down he knew it wasn’t. There was no nausea or sore throat or any other myriad of horrible side effects that came with being crippled. It was when he recognized the heat in his stomach as the same heat he felt when he was with Dean that he knew something supernatural was going on.

Cas lay in bed for days, agonized and sweating as he felt the heat spreading further and further throughout his body. It was only when it finally consumed his head and all of his thoughts that he found relief. He didn’t know what to do when it suddenly stopped, when the absence of anything was so stunning it froze him in place. Something didn’t feel right but Cas didn’t know what it was.

What he didn’t expect was the overwhelming tiredness that seemed to consume him when the symptoms of the sickness began to fade. It took control of his life and dragged him down into the depths of fatigue, planting him firmly in his bed or on the couch or really any place he could lie down. When Cas finally felt like he had enough to go on a walk, that’s when things changed again.

There had been a couple on the bench, an innocent couple holding hands and staring out at the lake in the park. He hadn’t noticed them at first but he’d felt that sane sickening heat creeping back into his body and it stopped him in his tracks. The heat overwhelmed him all at once but it wasn’t just a heat, there was a hunger. It clawed at his insides, screaming voice ringing in his ears as his eyes fell upon the couple who were now kissing. His feelings exploded when he realized what they were doing and he nearly gave in to the ugly urge to interrupt them and possess them. He was hungry and they were delicious.

There was something wrong with him, something ugly and hungry buried deep in him and Cas knew what it wanted. He knew because he wanted it too and it scared him to death.

The best thing he could do, and the thing he was planning to do, was to isolate himself.

If he was alone then he couldn’t hurt other people. He wouldn’t have to subject others to the ugly hungry desires that were rearranging his insides and the very way his body behaved. It made sense, the loneliness. Loneliness staved off the desire and the hunger and the longer he spent alone in his bedroom, the quieter the voice inside grew.

He just hoped the isolation would be enough for Dean to take the hint and stay away.

All Dean had to do was stay away.

Chapter Text

The first day Dean felt well enough to see people after returning home, his friends showed in a group loaded with giftbags and grins. Charlie and Thea were the first to arrive and once Charlie set down the bag she was carrying, she climbed onto Dean’s bed and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

“If you ever do that again, I will find a way to put your consciousness into a robot just so I can yell at you for being an idiot and then kill you myself.”

“I think a ‘hey Dean, glad you’re not dead’ would’ve been just fine.” Dean said as he hugged back, not commenting on how tight Charlie’s hug was. She cared and that was what mattered.

Thea, who didn’t particularly feel like hugging Dean, offered him a finger gun and a grin. “Hey Dean, glad you’re not dead.”

“Thanks. We all know the plan is to die at 25 in some freak accident and that’s still like four years away.”

“Three years, you’re 22 as of like five minutes ago.” Said Lee as he and Benny made themselves known, shuffling into the room. They too had a gift, a wrapped box, but they had something else too and Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. His reaction was practically pavlovian every time he saw that logo, mouth beginning to water.

“Please tell me that’s what I think it is.” He said as he slid out of bed. A small wave of dizziness hit him for just a moment but it quickly faded and then he was hugging his other friends.

“Obviously it is.” Benny said as he hugged back, stepping away and claiming the desk chair as his territory for the night. “Double bacon burger with extra pickles and hot banana peppers and not just a slice of cherry pie but an entire actual pie made like 20 minutes ago.”

“We didn’t even have to convince Ellen to give us an entire pie. She heard it was for you cuz you weren’t dead and just gave it to us.” Lee explained as he sat on the floor next to Benny’s chair, planning on stretching his legs out.

“Well I guess not being dead has its perks.”

Charlie nodded, making room on the bed for Dean to sit. “Yeah, it means you get to see all of our faces for the foreseeable future and you bet your ass we are going to be mothering you because you’ve shown you’re an idiot.”

“I won’t be mothering you,” Thea said, “I’ve got Cas to mother and that’s already a handful as is.”

Cas was the only one that hadn’t shown up yet and Dean was waiting with bated breath. He’d been awake since the 8^th and it was the 24^th now and Cas hadn’t visited once. Dean assumed he was busy, the guy very obviously had his own complicated family life and dream life with the demon that Dean still wasn’t entirely sure had been real. Busyness didn’t mean that you didn’t show up to your boyfriend’s combination glad you’re better and birthday party but it was still early so maybe he’d still show up.

“Well, I say we start eating and he’ll show up when he can.” Lee said as he reached for the roadhouse bags, handing them out to every person in the room.

Dean, who’d be enjoying his mom’s homecooked meals since he’d been back, was more than a little excited about the burger and the pie. Roadhouse burgers were a work of God as far as he was concerned, perfectly cooked patties with pillowy buns and enough to spice to choke out even the most seasoned veteran. He was starving and the second the first hint of grease hit his lips, he couldn’t help the pleased noise that slipped out.

Everyone raised their eyebrows and Charlie shook her head, clearly amused. “Save that for Cas, we don’t wanna hear it.”

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, already relaxing with everyone around him. He tore through the burger quickly and when he realized that the pie was entirely for him, he didn’t keep up false polite pretenses and instead tore into it with all the grace of a caveman. With half the pie gone, he set the tin down and stretched.

“So you’re probably all wondering what happened to me.”

“Brother, that’s an understatement.” Benny said. “Explain or we’ll get your mother to and I don’t think you’d like that very much.”

“Okay, one, let’s not threaten me with my mother because that actually works and I really don’t like that it does and two, my brain and spine were on fire. Well inflamed which is basically the same thing. I don’t get the whole thing but it was some kind of like sudden attack thing and they gave me steroids for like a week and now I’m fine. Technically fine-ish but that doesn’t matter.”

Charlie and Thea shared a quick knowingly look but kept their mouths shut, knowing better than to bring things up. Luckily for them, Lee spoke before they could.

“Define fine-ish because you said you were fine before you passed out in front of us so I don’t really think you’re all that good at being objective about your medical condition.”

“Migraines, really bad tiredness, and kind of like on ongoing weird numbness inability to use my leg sometimes. They say that it could take up to a year to finally get rid of all the symptoms but I think they’re worried about there being like nerve damage or something.”

“That what the cane in the corner is for?” Thea asked, jerking her thumb in the direction of a cane which had carefully been tucked away in a corner

Dean nodded his head, face tinged red with embarrassment. “Can we just not mention it? I’m trying to have a good birthday and not be reminded of the fact that I’m probably gonna end up stuck being sick.”

“Present time then.” Charlie said quickly, reaching for the bag she brought. She held it out to Dean, her usual grin plastered on her face. Dean had learned to never trust that grin and was wary when he opened it.

There were two things inside: a keychain he had suspected Charlie was going to get him and then a piece of fabric. He picked it up and when it unfurled his eyes fell on what had to be the most hideous shirt he’d ever seen. A graphic of a raccoon with a poorly photo-shopped hellfire background and comic sans font proudly proclaiming ‘I almost died and all I got was this lousy shirt’ stared back at him and it took Dean a moment before he laughed.

He hadn’t laughed in weeks and it hurt when he did but he couldn’t seem to stop it, or the tears that came as a result. What he did do was set the shirt aside and wipe his eyes before grinning at Charlie. “That’s the worst shirt I’ve ever seen, I fucking love it. Thanks.”

“Knew you would. Designed it myself.” She beamed proudly.

Thea was the next to hand Dean a bag and he seemed just as excited to open that one, particularly lighting up when he saw a pair of gauntlets in it. They weren’t just regular gauntlets though because they looked like the ones he’d attempted to draw from his DnD character. His excitement and level of being terrifyingly impressed increased when Thea sheepishly admitted she’d gotten into metalworking and engraving and had mostly made them herself.

Benny and Lee had gone in on a gift together and when Dean unwrapped the box to find a replica of a Chucky doll, he nearly vaulted over the edge of his bed in his attempt to hug the pair of them. He’d been raving about the doll for the last four years and saving up just as long. Dean had never doubted how much his friends actually liked him but this confirmed that not only did they like him, they actually listened to him.

As Dean thanked everyone profusely, practically gushing over their thoughtfulness, he found his eyes drifting back to his door. It had been an hour since the informal party had started and Cas still wasn’t there. He’d sent Cas a text about it, a few texts about it, and there was no way Thea wouldn’t have reminded him. So why wasn’t he there?

Charlie and Thea shared another look when they noticed Dean’s mood and Charlie was quick to sling an arm around Dean’s shoulder and bring him back to reality. “Sooo, I got my hands on a copy of BG3 while you were out and I know you’ve been wanting to play that so how about we play that? I’ve done a ton of runs and so’s Thea and I think watching us play may have traumatized the other two so..”

“Um yeah, obviously I want to. Bring out the sexy vampire.” Dean grinned.

Dean’s mood seemed to improve for the first couple hours they played but the longer they played, the more his internal mood was souring and the worse he was feeling. There was a deep queasiness in his stomach, the kind that wasn’t so much burger related as it was anxious about his boyfriend related. Benny and Lee were the first to fall asleep but Dean was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice but he did notice when Charlie passed out. He gingerly moved her off of himself before turning back to check if Thea was awake. She was and she was staring back at him, expression almost somber.

“I think we need to talk.” She said, sounding more reserved than usual.

“It’s been over two weeks and he hasn’t texted me once and he isn’t showing up tonight. I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Let’s take this upstairs, I don’t think anyone else needs to hear this and I don’t trust them not to wake up.”

Dean nodded, pulling himself up from the floor. His brain was rapidly freefalling as they ascended the stairs and once he closed the door to his bedroom and they were finally alone, he let the mask fall. His expression was one of misery and deep hurt and Thea felt bad almost immediately.

“How much did you two talk about what was happening when you got sick?” She asked, taking a seat on Dean’s bed.

“I know about the demon, if that’s what you’re asking. I thought he was crazy but he wasn’t and then I told Sam to get a message to him but that’s it. I guess I was out after that.”

Thea nodded her head, mulling over her thoughts. There was a fine line between telling Dean what he needed to know and telling him things that she had no business telling him. “Well, the good news is is that the demon was stopped and we’re pretty sure that’s why you pulled through. By we I mean me and Cas but also like Charlie and Cas’ like mom and Rowena and also kind of one of his brothers.”

“I don’t love that so many people got involved but I do enjoy being alive so thank you. What does this have to do with Cas not talking to me? He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s not. I don’t think.”

“What the fuck do you mean I don’t think? He’s your best friend, you of all people should know whether or not he’s alive.”

Thea sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Because he hasn’t talked to me in two weeks either. I call, I text, I show up at his fucking house and nothing. Only reason I know he’s alive is because his mom has told me.”

“Jesus Christ. There has to be something you’re not telling me because he wouldn’t just do that without a reason. Not to me and definitely not to you.”

Thea hesitated, really against telling Dean what wasn’t her story to tell. But he needed to know and Cas wasn’t going to tell him, not without serious prompting that would be hard enough to get with his complete isolation from his friends. It was with great reluctance that Thea relented and told the story. She told him about the séance, about the ritual, and about what she knew about Cas once he’d gotten back home afterwards. No detail was spared, particularly not with the injuries and the gravity of the situation.

Dean’s expression paled the longer Thea talked and his anxiety spiked too, heart dropping into his stomach and sending throbbing waves of nausea through it. He thought he was going to be sick when Thea explained that not just Cas but Charlie too had been hurt during the séance. Dean was sick when Thea explained the ritual that Cas had to undergo, face buried in his trash can as she talked. He was thankful he could barely hear her over the sound of his own vomiting.

“Please tell me you’re almost done.” Dean mumbled as he lifted his head from the trashcan. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, deciding he liked his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see Thea.

“Almost yeah. All that’s left to say is that there might’ve been side effects of the ritual and we didn’t know what they would be but obviously they’re happening if he’s isolating himself from everyone.”

“Did you ever figure out what demon it was?” Dean asked as he set the trashcan down on the floor. “Because we know it’s a sexy lust thing and I’m pretty sure that’s enough to figure out what’s going on.”

“Asmodeus, prince of Hell. Basically like the father of all Lust but not like the actual sin.”

Dean nodded, chewing on his lip as he thought for a couple minutes. He knew more than he cared to admit about demons and sexuality because he’d spent hours going down rabbit hole after rabbit hole once they’d released him from the hospital. There was no way he’d be unprepared if another demon reared its ugly head and decided it wanted him as another snack.

“I know why he’s avoiding everyone.”

Thea raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

“Paranoid post coma research rabbit hole.” He shrugged. “Guarantee he’s undergoing some weird biological change because he’s got the demon stuck and it’s becoming one with his biology, kind of like a tapeworm that isn’t gonna leave so it becomes part of the body forever. Only difference is is that this tape worm doesn’t want food, it wants sex and desire.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Cas has a supernaturally charged sexually driven tapeworm that won’t ever leave him alone.”

“If I’m right then yeah, kind of. But it’s probably more than that.”

“How is it more than that? I thought we’d gotten to the last level of crazy possible.”

Dean sighed again, reaching out to swipe a bottle of medication from his nightstand. Everything was giving him a headache and he needed something to take the edge off. He took a pill, wincing when it got stuck halfway down his throat. The theory, which was probably more and more likely, left a taste in his mouth that was very similar to uncoated opioids.

“So my sex dreams, which I’m still incredibly embarrassed to admit I even had, were pretty much what everyone would describe as the act of a succubus. I’m pretty sure that with the demon being in Cas while that happened and being in him now, there’s some kind of weird transition happening.”

“So sexy tapeworm is making him like a succubus then?”

“Pretty much yeah.”

Thea seemed like she believed Dean but she also seemed like she felt incredibly nervous about the entire thing. The theory made perfect sense and it made her feel even worse for Cas. She frowned, hugging her knees to her chest. “That definitely explains why he’s isolating himself but there’s no way he’s adjusting well. He’s already paranoid you want to break up so he probably just thinks he’s making the decision even easier for you. One of us is going to have to talk to him.”

“I want to.” Dean said quickly. “I’ve got a lot to say and a lot of it is really personal.”

“Are you planning on breaking up?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t want to and I don’t think he does either but that’s a conversation to have tomorrow. I think we should just get some sleep now, I’m exhausted and you probably are too.”

Not one to argue for going to bed, Thea took one side of Dean’s bed and made herself comfortable. There was no way she was going to give a bed up just to cuddle up with Charlie on a couch. Didn’t want to risk either of the boys waking up and claiming the bed either. Before she tried to sleep she rolled over to face Dean, offering him a small smile.

“Happy birthday again. For what it’s worth, I’m glad we became friends and I’m really glad you and Cas met.”

“Yeah, me too.”

~

Dean was the first of his friends to wake up in the morning and he was thankful for the quiet it gave him. It gave him time to think as he took his pills, showered, and dressed in a comfortable hoodie and a pair of jeans. He didn’t want to look like a slob but he wasn’t quite up to making the world his own personal runway. With his bag and cane in hand he headed downstairs, unsurprised to smell breakfast cooking. He swung by the kitchen, seeing Mary in the middle of frying up some bacon.

“They’re going to love you for cooking them breakfast.”

Mary turned around, smiling at Dean. “I’m fairly certain your friends already love me so that’s negated. You’re up awfully early though, I thought you would’ve slept in.”

“I’m gonna go see Cas today.”

“I wondered if you were. I thought it was a little strange he didn’t show up yesterday, I’d heard the stomach bug was gone, but I guess not. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

Dean sighed before shuffling over beside Mary, reaching for the pot of coffee to pour himself a coffee. “I’m not so sure he will be.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s really complicated but he blames himself for me getting sick and he’s been isolating himself from everyone and I think he’s acting like we should break up even though he really doesn’t want to and I don’t want to. So I’m gonna go check on him, see if we can talk things through.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to work things out.” Mary hummed, wrapping an arm around Dean. “You’re both smart and clearly you care about each other. Should I be expecting you home for supper?”

Dean shrugged, leaning into Mary as he sipped his coffee.

“I’ll make sure we have leftovers if you’re not sure. Good luck sweetheart, I’m sure you'll figure it out.”

“Thanks mom.”

The walk to Cas’ really wasn’t far, maybe twenty minutes, but Dean knew there was no way he was going to be able to do it so he didn’t. He drove the distance and had planned on using the time he had to try and formulate his thoughts but his mind was completely blank. Dean couldn’t think of what to say to Cas or how he would say it so he was sweating bullets by the time he parked and made his way up the driveway. The weather was cold and seemed like it was going to rain so his joints, which had not recovered from being in a bed for so long, were screaming at him to stop moving. His cane helped but he hated that it was in his hand.

“Okay Dean, you can do this. It won’t be that bad.” He said to himself as he knocked on the door, waiting anxiously.

The man that answered the door was someone Dean didn’t recognize at first. He was short, relatively weasel-like with his long face and long hair, and had a general air that Dean found just a tad off-putting. The man certainly seemed to know who Dean was because he stepped aside to let Dean in.

“He’s not going to want to see you, just so you know. Hasn’t let anyone see him save for mom.”

Dean stepped inside, taking his shoes off. When he stood back up, he had enough sense to kind of know who he was speaking too. Thanksgiving came rushing back and Dean already felt embarrassment creeping in. “Long time no see. Hope you’ve been good.”

“I’ve been fine, better than you and my brother.” Gabriel chuckled. “Thanks for the tip you passed on by the way, probably the only reason you’re still alive. How’d you figure it out?”

“I play too much DnD.”

“Alright, fair point. You’ve got DnD lore knowledge and I’ve got ancient religious text knowledge, it’s apparently a good combo. Are you going right up or… cuz mom’s in the kitchen and she’d probably like to talk to you.”

Dean debated for a moment before making his way to the kitchen he’d been in a few times. He hadn’t seen Grace since just before Christmas and was hoping she was coping well with everything going on. She looked well when Dean finally laid eyes on her, just as dressed up and put together as she usually was. Her face lit up when she saw Dean and she was getting out of her chair, arms open wide. Without hesitation Dean hobbled over, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” He whispered, comforted when she hugged him back just as tightly.

“Of course.” Grace replied, squeezing for a moment before letting go. She took a moment to take a good look at Dean, scanning his tired face and the new accessory he seemed to have with him. “Looks like you’ve seen better days. How are you feeling?”

“Sort of like I was hit by a truck but I’m just really happy to be alive.”

Grace smiled softly and turned to reach for her mug of coffee before taking a seat beside Dean. “We’re all happy you’re alive too. We weren’t entirely sure that it would work.”

“I know, Thea told me. Told me everything that happened actually and I do mean everything. None of you should’ve done what you did, I didn’t really deserve it, but thanks anyway.”

Grace sighed, taking a sip from her mug. “So you know what Cas went through then.”

“I do.”

“And you think that you’re going to be able to talk to him and get him to rejoin society as a semi-functional human being?” Gabe said, his tone unusually cynical. “I mean obviously he’s like horrifically in love with you but I don’t think anyone, especially not someone who was a victim, is really equipped to deal with whatever is going on in his head.”

“Gabriel, don’t be rude.” Grace chided.

“It’s called being pragmatic. Realistically, Cas blames himself for all of this and being confronted with the literal physical victim probably isn’t going to be all that great for his psyche. I think we should be giving him space and time, not this.”

“You’ve never been pragmatic a day in your life so I don’t suggest you start now.” Said Rowena as she entered the kitchen, still in her pajamas. She smiled at Dean, a genuinely warm smile that said she was more than happy to see him. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Thanks for your help, I appreciate not being dead.”

Rowena smiled again before sliding past Grace and making a beeline for the coffee. She took a couple sips before observing Dean again, eyes narrowing slightly. “You know something, I can see it on your face. Is it about Cas?”

“I might know what’s wrong but I’m not sure. I’m gonna attempt to talk to him if that’s cool with everyone.”

Grace gestured towards the stairs and granted Dean his escape from the kitchen that was quickly becoming far too overcrowded. Dean’s heart dropped further into his stomach the higher up the stairs he went and by the time he’d reached the second floor, he was nearly out of breath. His body didn’t seem to like stairs or much of anything at the moment and irked him to no end. It was a bit like hearing a screaming cat and knowing that it needed help but not being able to figure out where it was or how to help it.

Dean took a moment to steady himself, taking a deep breath before he made his way to Cas’ door. He knocked on Cas’ door, waiting with bated breath. Part of him hoped Cas would throw the door open and welcome him inside but the realistic side of Dean knew better than that and was unsurprised when he heard a muffled voice call out.

“Go away!”

Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Cas, it’s me. Can we talk?”

There was silence in response, not so much as a peep from the other side of the door. Dean could feel the unspoken emotion, though maybe it was just the telltale smell of someone engaged in heinous levels of bed rot, through the door and it worried him. He debated knocking again but decided against it, instead sitting down in front of the closed door.

“I know you’re in there and you know I’m out here and we both know that I’m not going anywhere so I’m going to sit outside your door and talk until you show me your face and either let me in or tell me to fuck off. I’m stubborn so I will not be moving.”

Dean heard nothing in response. It was expected this time but it still jarred him ever so slightly.

“Thea told me what all of you did, how all of you risked your lives to try and save mine. I don’t think there’s anything I can say that’s ever going to show how grateful I am to all of you. Especially to you. I would’ve died if you hadn’t done what you did.”

There was a sound from inside as if Cas were rolling out of his bed. A couple footsteps echoed but still the door remained closed, barring Dean from entry. He knew Cas was closer now, close enough that maybe they would make some kind of progress.

“Thea told me that you and Charlie got hurt and I’m really sorry about that. I know it wasn’t my fault but still, it could’ve been avoided if I’d just talked to you sooner. How’s your arm doing?”

“It’s fine.” Cas said, finally speaking. His voice was full of gravel, a rasp that Dean recognized from the couple times he’d seen Cas cry in front of him. “You should go home.”

“Tell me to fuck off and I will.”

There was a half-hearted fuck off on the other side of the door but Dean didn’t budge.

“That’s the saddest fuck off I’ve ever heard.”

Cas huffed on the other side, head practically in his hands. “Dean, please, just- just go away. I’m not in the mood.”

“And you think I am? I’m sitting on the other side of this door in a hoodie and jeans with a fucking cane looking like death warmed over. I’m here because everyone who cares about you is worried and that includes me. All I want to do is to see if you’re okay.”

“You have a cane?”

Dean saw the opportunity to worm his way in and he took with a speed that surprised himself. “Sudden swelling in the brain and spine really fucks up your muscles and nervous system and everything else. I’m going to be honest, the floor is really uncomfortable and I really think sitting on a bed would be better.”

Cas didn’t reply but there was more shuffling and a lock clicking before the door slowly creaked open. Dean got to his feet, shakier than he cared to admit as he steadied himself with the cane and stepped into Cas’ room. The darkness was immediate, almost disarming, and Dean nearly tripped when his foot caught on a stray hoodie on the floor.

“Can we turn the light on?” he asked as he steadied himself before dropping onto the bed. The mattress was firmer than he expected but the meager softness it did have was welcome.

“No, no lights. No lights and no closeness and nothing. Just say what you need to say and leave.”

Dean’s frown deepened but he wasn’t surprised. He’d expected Cas to stay as far away as possible, it just made sense. There was an expectation of coldness too but this didn’t feel right and Dean would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t hurt by it. It made sense, he understood it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And he didn’t like it.

“I want to talk about us and what we are and what I want us to keep being. I like you, Cas, even including the whole demon thing which was not your fault by the way, and I don’t think what happened changes that. “

“It changes everything, what are you even talking about?’

“How does it change everything? Maybe you’re seeing something I’m not.” Dean said as he crossed his arms, hoping he was facing where he assumed Cas was sitting.

Cas tried to answer in the shortest vaguest way possible, already desperately wanting Dean out of his room. He could feel the heat beginning to pool and lnew it wouldn’t be long before the voices followed. “You’re not the same person and neither am I. Different people means different things and the new me doesn’t want you stuck.”

“That’s bullshit, Cas, and we both know it. I’m still the same Dean who drives too fast, watches too many horror movies, and continues to wear those hot dog pajama pant that really aren’t cute at 22. It’s like you’re still the same Cas with the fashion sense of an old man, the voice of a chain-smoker, and that fond exasperated eye roll you have when you pretend that all of my jokes aren’t funny when they’re actually hilarious. Yeah I think we’re maybe both a little traumatized by the sudden expansion of our known universes but that doesn’t mean that things have to change.”

“Dean, please. I’m doing this for your own good.” Cas mumbled, voice pained.

Dean did his best to remain calm but failed as anger bubbled up, slipping through a crack in the damn. He was upset and he was hurt and he was going to make sure Cas knew it.

“For my own good, are you fucking kidding? You’re a lot of things Cas but I didn’t think you were fucking selfish. Staying away from me because you’re scared isn’t for my own good, it’s taking away my choice in the matter! I know you’re scared and not feeling well and so I am but that doesn’t give you an excuse. You missed my birthday, did you know that? Everyone was there except for you.”

“You don’t have a monopoly on fucked up feelings, Dean. I’m sorry I missed your birthday, okay? I didn’t mean to but there’s a lot going on and I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Just because you don’t owe me one doesn’t mean I don’t deserve one.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dean didn’t respond, not with words anyway. He was too busy fighting back the surge of emotion threatening to spill from his eyes and down his face. The plan had been simple, get his way into Cas’ room and then convince his boyfriends that he both knew and didn’t really care about how Cas was changing. He hadn’t counted on Cas biting back and he hadn’t counted on how much it was going to bother him. Dean was terrified of what was happening with his body and he was hurt that Cas didn’t want him at all.

“This was a mistake, I’m sorry I bothered you.” Dean mumbled, not bothering to hide how miserable he sounded as he wiped roughly at his eyes. He fished around for his cane before getting to his feet, eyes trained on the door. “I’ll leave you alone. You can text me and let me know what you want to do about us.”

Cas acted without thinking, spurred on by the sudden panic of losing Dean. He’d hoped that Dean would come and they’d be able to talk but he hadn’t planned on things getting this far and now that they were, now that he could hear how upset Dean really was, Cas regretted it. His hand closed around Dean’s wrist to stop him but he felt Dean flinch and he let go.

“Dean, wait, please. Please stay.”

“I’m not staying unless you’re willing to actually talk to me. I won’t waste my time and I won’t waste yours.”

Cas thought for a moment before relenting. “Close the door if you want the lights on. I don’t want them to walk in.”

Dean closed the door but didn’t turn the lights on, wanting to give Cas that modicum of privacy he was so clearly desperate for. He turned on his heels before making his way back to the bed and sitting on one side, tucking his cane so neither of them would trip. The bed dipped beside Dean and he knew Cas was sitting beside him, could feel the warmth from his presence radiating out.

“One of us is going to have to say something and I’m not sure how talkative I’m feeling right now.” He said, splaying his hand out beside Cas but not reaching out to touch him.

“Rowena told me the only way we had a chance of saving you was to bind the demon to someone it had a direct blood tie to, to trap it. Said it would be better if it was someone who was tied to you.”

“You popped the demon back in the bottle and now it’s changing things. It’s changing you.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably, grateful the room was still dark enough they couldn’t see each other. Dean was perceptive but Cas didn’t understand how he was already picking up on everything. His nerves were picking up, heart beginning to race and stomach beginning to churn. Didn’t help that his veins felt like they were on fire, his forehead clammy.

“Thea told me something was going on with you, that it was a side effect. She didn’t tell me what it was though.”

“I didn’t tell her, that’s why she doesn’t know.” Cas mumbled, tugging uncomfortably at the neck of his hoodie. His discomfort was growing steadily, the room almost unbearably hot. He finally had the chance to talk to Dean but he kept stumbling over his words, unable to get much of anything out no matter how hard he tried.

Dean knew what was going on, suspected it at the very least, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to bring it up in an organic way that wouldn’t frighten Cas so he said nothing until he heard the telltale noise of Cas dropping his head in his hands. It was only then that Dean stretched his hand out, letting his fingertips barely brush Cas’ leg.

“I can feel you getting overwhelmed. Don’t try and force the words you don’t have yet. As frustrated as I am, I’m not in a rush and I’m not going anywhere. I survived being a demonic buffet so I think I can survive your isolationism.”

“Calling yourself a demon buffet makes me feel so much worse.” Cas mumbled, head still in his hands.

“Would you prefer supernatural snack? Or demonic delicacy? How about Asmodeic appetizer?”

Cas was still upset but the more Dean talked and listed various demonically related food jokes, the more Cas found himself disarmed. He’d missed Dean, also missed human contact, and he couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out when he heard the phrase belial burrito.

“Dean, if you don’t stop talking I’m actually going to risk dealing with my family to get away from your awful jokes.”

“There’s that laugh I missed. Bet I’d see you smiling if I turned on the light.” Dean hummed. He was calming down now, the tension in the room dimming but still present enough to be slightly uncomfortable. “I’m going to be honest with you, I’m exhausted. Haven’t gone a day without a nap since I got out of the hospital.”

“I won’t kick you out so just take a nap in my bed since you’re already here.”

“That won’t make you uncomfortable, will it? Because I’ve kind of noticed the no touching thing and the lights off thing and I really don’t want to push you into actually deciding to break up with me.”

“Just sleep here, it’s fine. Maybe I’ll figure out how to say what I want to say when you’re asleep.”

Without so much as a word against being allowed to stay in Cas’ room, Dean stretched out in his bed and closed his eyes. He knew sleep would come quickly and he had a feeling, a well-informed post coma research rabbit hole feeling, that he and Cas would be talking about that sooner rather than later.

Cas thought things would be easier once Dean was asleep but they proved quite the opposite. It was fine for the first few minutes before the heat spread, almost unbearable within fifteen minutes. Cas’ forehead was clammy and he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, eyes preoccupied with Dean. He leaned back to flick the bedside lamp on, wanting to get a better look at Dean.

Dean’s face was gaunter than it had been, skin paler and translucent next to the dark circles that hadn’t faded from his under eyes. His lashes were delicate and cast long shadows over his freckled face. Cas reached out before he could stop himself, gentle slide of fingers down Dean’s cheek lighting a match in him. For weeks he’d kept himself away from everyone he knew and cared about in a desperate attempt to suppress the urge that was overwhelming him now.

His hand trailed down Dean’s cheek and then his throat, the steady beat of Dean’s heart doing him in. The ugly urge to possess Dean rose up in him and try as Cas might, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it. Cas nearly stopped breathing when he felt Dean shift, neck pressing up into his touch.

“I can’t, I don’t want to…” Cas whispered, voice catching in his throat as his hand slid down to Dean’s chest.

Dean was asleep until he felt a hand ghost over his throat and something wet hit his face. There was a weight pressing on his legs and he had no doubt Cas was sitting on them, hovering above him. He stirred, blurry vision finally settling on his first look at Cas in the light. Cas looked like he usually did save for two things: the dark circles under his eyes and the pupils of his eyes so large they very nearly blacked out the blue. Dean peered closer, registering the tears on Cas’ face with mild panic.

Cas couldn’t move, frozen with a petrifying mix of fear and desire. He knew Dean knew something was wrong and he wanted nothing more than to climb off Dean and throw him out of his bedroom but he didn’t. What Cas didn’t expect were the two hands cupping either side of his face, thumbs brushing away the tears.

“Cas, hey, relax. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, voice full of tender concern. “You’re okay.”

“I can’t make it stop.”

Dean’s expression didn’t waver, nor did his thumbs stop stroking the tears away. “I know you can’t.”

“Y-you know?”

“I do. The side effect of trapping a demon of lust in your body is that you become dependent on the same thing it craves. That’s why you’ve been isolating yourself, right? You find it hard to resist, hard to control.”

Cas stared back at Dean, eyes still wide and hands shaking against Dean’s chest. He could barely think past the feeling of Dean below him and holding his face. It didn’t make sense that Dean knew what was going on, that he was so completely okay with what was happening.

“I can’t hurt you again, Dean.”

“You won’t hurt me, I know you won’t.” Dean murmured. He’d stopped wiping the tears away but still had his hands cupping Cas’ face. His mind ran a million miles a minute, alarm bells sounding somewhere where he could ignore them. There was no good way to explain how he knew what was happening with Cas or that he knew what was going on so he decided not to explain it. What Dean did instead was probably selfish and most certainly stupid.

He leaned up and kissed Cas. It was long and drawn out, the kind of kiss that had been building in his chest for months. Dean tasted salt when he pulled away just slightly, tongue swiping the tears away from his lip. He didn’t realize Cas had been crying again.

Cas’ hands gripped Dean’s sweater, balling up the fabric. He was overwhelmed now, overwhelmed by the heat in his veins and Dean’s heady scent. Dean had always smelled good but he smelled different now, stronger. Beneath the woody scent of his soap, there was an undercurrent and Cas was drawn to it. It was almost a musk, something indescribable that drove him mad. It was only when Dean’s lips pulled away that Cas realized he wanted them back. That he ached for them.

“Dean,” he whispered, voice full of longing. Cas was almost paralyzed, caught between wanting to kiss Dean and wanting nothing to do with him. “If you kiss me, I don’t think I can control myself.”

Dean’s response was simple, blunt.

“So don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Dean smiled gently, almost amused that Cas didn’t entirely seem to grasp what he was offering. He closed the gap once again, fingers gently digging into Cas’ face as he kissed him deeply. There was no denying what Dean was offering with that kiss, no denying the way his body rose up to meet Cas’.

Cas’ brain nearly short circuited when he felt Dean’s lips on his. The fire was impossible to ignore and he didn’t want to ignore it. Ever since he’d trapped Asmodeus, Cas had been exploring his own desires in an attempt to keep them under control. He’d done it alone, in the comfort of his isolated room, and it’d kept the desire at bay until Dean had showed up but that wouldn’t cut it. Not anymore.

 “I missed you.” Cas murmured, lips seeking out Dean’s with a stronger intensity. “God I missed you so much.”

Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat before he kissed Cas harder, fire flooding his own veins. He didn’t want to wait, didn’t want his mind or Cas’ to change though he knew they wouldn’t. Cas’ hair was silky as Dean wound his fingers in it and tugged, leading Cas’ upper half back down as he himself lay down. His other hand slid down Cas’ chest and torso, resting at the sharp jut of his hip.

Kissing Dean seemed to flood Cas with new life and the fire became more manageable as he felt his teeth graze Dean’s lip. His lips trailed to Dean’s jaw, determined to trace it all the way down. He shifted down Dean’s body, hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie and yanking it off when Dean partially sat up. Cas was right back to kissing Dean after, lips working at the soft junction of his jaw and ear as his hands slid up and down Dean’s bare chest.

“Not fair you don’t have your shirt off too.” Dean groaned softly, eyes fluttering closed. He wasn’t sure if it was the demon or just Cas turning him on but he was half hard already and he would’ve been embarrassed if Cas hadn’t pulled his shirt off and thrown it onto the floor.

Cas drank Dean in with his eyes before kissing him again. It started at that same junction before it trailed down his neck, staying on the side at first. There were faint raised outlines of scars as Cas kissed down Dean’s neck but they didn’t seem to be painful because Dean was groaning softly, pressing his throat up against Cas’ lips. It changed when Cas kissed directly on the hollow of Dean’s throat and Dean flinched, jerking back as if he’d been burned.

Cas stopped immediately, practically rolling off of Dean. Something wasn’t right, not with Dean’s reaction and certainly not with the way he looked now. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

“M’fine, don’t worry. Just um, maybe don’t touch my neck.”

Cas nodded his head, rolling onto his side so he could face Dean. “Anything else I should know?”

“You’re the one who’s like a succubus now, pretty sure you’re supposed to have like all of the world’s sexual knowledge at your disposal.”

“I’m a succubus who is also a 21 year old virgin so uh no, I definitely do not have all the world’s sexual knowledge at my disposal. It took me three years to get the courage to talk to you for fuck’s sake.”

Dean laughed softly, surprisingly relaxed despite how awkward the situation was. He kicked his pants off before scooting closer to Cas, still smiling a little bit. Cas being so unsure, even if he probably knew more than he thought, was incredibly endearing. It told Dean that Cas was still his Cas.

“So, I think with what’s going on that you’d probably be fine if I got off. Doesn’t say much about you getting off but I am a people pleaser so you’ll get off too. Just wanna know how far we’re gonna go because there is no way in hell I have the energy to top and I doubt you want to bottom for your first time.”

“Once again, still a virgin so not gonna be helpful here.” Cas mumbled, leaning in to kiss Dean. The short conversation interrupting their touching was enough to leave Cas hungry and he needed to fill that gap.

“Get to it when we get to it.” Dean replied, turning his attention back to Cas.

Their kisses were hungrier now, quicker and shallower before deepening as they sought more of each other out. Dean was the first to make any kind of other move, arm snaking around to grab Cas’ ass and pull him flush against his body. He could feel how hard Cas was from their exploratory activities and grinned against his lips, sliding a hand between them. Palming at Cas rewarded him with a groan and he deepened the kiss, easing back into his comfort zone.

Dean waited until he could feel Cas pushing against his hand, lips moving like he was asking for more, before he shifted gears. He pulled away slightly, just enough to push Cas’ sweats and boxers past his knees and spit onto his hand before he was wrapping his hand around Cas, lips back on his neck.

“Let me show you how it’s supposed to go, what it’s supposed to feel like.” Dean murmured, lips scraping down Cas’ neck. “I can’t do it all but I can make you feel good.”

Cas’ breathy groan was all the answer Dean needed.

He started slow at first, a gentle up and down of his hand in time with the lips moving on Cas’ neck as he got Cas used to the feeling of another hand on him. Cas was reactive, much to Dean’s surprise, and he took great pleasure when he twisted his hand and Cas audibly moaned. It was only when Cas began to move a little too much that Dean still his hand, lips brushing the shell of Cas’ ear as he spoke.

“Let me blow you?” he whispered, “Please, angel.”

Cas, who was barely hanging on at that point, groaned in response. The fire in his belly he’d bene so afraid of was nothing in comparison to feeling Dean’s hand and lips on, nothing compared to the heady feeling of knowing Dean wanted him and was showing it. He let Dean manhandle him onto his back, eyes closed and lips parted as his chest heaved. One hand found his bedsheets and the other found Dean’s hair, gripping the shaggy locks tightly.

Dean thought about easing into it slowly but decided against it, much more into the thought of getting Cas off before he ran out of steam. He licked a stripe from base to tip before he took Cas into his mouth, fighting the tension in his jaw. He’d seen bigger than Cas but not thicker and Dean felt his lips stretch almost uncomfortably but he kept going, breathing through his nose.

“Dean, jesus..”

There was a moment of silence before Dean turned his attention back to Cas, head bobbing as he moved. He gripped Cas’ thigh with one hand and the base of him with the other, inching ever closer to a satisfying ending for the both of them. Cas’ hand was tight in his hair as it tugged and his hips began to twitch, a telltale sign he was either about to move or was closer than expected.

All Dean could hear, aside from Cas’ moans which weren’t all that quiet, were the wet squelching noises echoing inside his own skull. He had enough sense to reach out and clap a hand over Cas’ mouth but the angle changed and he choked, pulling off with a sputter. His face was wet before he fully registered what was happening and then he was staring at Cas with cum dripping down his face and onto his lips.

“Been a while since I’ve had that happen.” Dean chuckled, voice raspy. He wiped his face with his hand, wiping the remains on his boxers.

Cas, red-faced and chest heaving, propped himself to stare at Dean. Months ago he would’ve been embarrassed and ashamed of what had just happened, of what he’d just done with Dean, but he didn’t feel either of those emotions. He was elated, riding a high of endorphins and pleasure he’d never experienced before. Dean wanted him, despite everything that happened, and it meant the world.

Cas shifted, planning to surge forward and kiss Dean breathless, but he misjudged the distanced and had forgotten he still had his pants around his ankles. He missed Dean and the momentum threw him just past the edge of the bed. The floor was hard when he fell on it but Cas laughed, unable to help himself. It was a laugh repressed by months and months of traumatic dreams and he couldn’t seem to stop it once it started.

“Please tell me you’re not having a psychotic break.” Dean mumbled as he shifted on the bed to peer over the edge, perturbed by the sudden outburst.

There was a glimmer of mischief in Cas’ eyes as he reached out to grab Dean, pulling him onto the floor with a thud. He rolled on top of Dean when Dean landed on his back, lips pressing short sweet kisses to his face.

“No psychotic break, just happy.” Cas murmured in between kisses. “Well still terrified about whatever the hell my body is doing but so glad you’re still around.”

“Well I don’t suck just anyone’s dick.”

“Guess I’m just lucky.”

Dean shrugged in agreement but found himself preoccupied with kissing Cas before he could respond in any certain terms. It was different now, the fiery desire still there but tempered somehow. The biting edge was gone and it was entirely pleasant now as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, hands gliding down his back. There was a hand tugging his boxers off and then sliding back up his leg, a slow exploration of his bare thighs. Cas pulled away again, taking another look at Dean.

“God you’re beautiful.”

Dean flushed a deep crimson, unused to compliments when he was as exposed as he was.

“If I knew what I was doing, Dean,” Cas said as he dropped his head and began a series of wet mouthed kisses up Dean’s inner thigh, “best believe I’d fuck you until all you knew was my name.”

Dean groaned shakily, glad the light from the lamp didn’t quite reach the floor. He knew he was red, could feel his face burning with embarrassment and desire. Cas’ words, while forward, were entirely his. They didn’t sound like the demon or a succubus or anything that wasn’t what Cas wanted. And that, that was enough to pull another groan from Dean.

“Next time.”

Cas glanced up from where he’d just pressed a kiss to the just of Deans hips, pupils so large his eyes looked almost black. It was disconcerting but Dean found it endlessly attractive, swallowing thickly. The look told Dean that Cas would devour him whole and Dean was going to let him.

Cas wrapped a hand around Dean, a firm but curious grip as he got accustomed to the weight and feel. He’d touched himself a million times but this was different because it was Dean, because it someone he wanted. There was a cursory swipe of his tongue across the tip of Dean’s cock and Cas found it warmer than he was expected. Knowing he wouldn’t be able do what Dean did, Cas settled for exploring everything with his tongue.

Dean knew there was going to a lull in how quickly things went but ten minutes passed and he was losing his mind, pent up desire with no way to release it. The sensation wasn’t enough and he was shifting uncomfortably, fingers gripping the carpet tight enough they were almost white.

“Cas, please, you gotta do something.” He groaned, hips bucking when he felt another tongue swipe. “It’s not enough.”

Cas glanced up after an eternity of waiting, eyes widening when he saw what he was doing to Dean. They scanned the grip of his hands, the red flush to his body, even the intoxicating aroma of arousal. He could feel it in his body, could feel the strength returning the more he realized how Dean was feeling, and it was enough to spur him on.

With a deep breath, Cas wrapped his lips around Dean and got to work. It was a strange feeling but it felt good too and he put his hands on Dean’s thighs for purchase, fingers digging into the flesh as he began to bob his head. His jaw ached as Dean’s cock stretched his lips and he forced himself to breathe through his nose, wanting to make Dean feel as good as he’d made him feel.

The only thing on Dean’s mind as he felt Cas’ lips and hands on him was how good it felt. He wasn’t worried about his health or Cas’ changing body or the million other things going on in his life. It was just him and Cas and that’s all he really needed. When Dean dared to crack an eye open to take a look at Cas, it was all over. His eyes slid over Cas’ mussed hair, his flushed face, his lips stretched taut, and then he felt the accidental scrape of Cas’ teeth.

Dean came in Cas’ mouth, sharp moan of his name echoing around the room.

Shocked by his sudden success, Cas stilled his head. He stayed that way until he couldn’t breathe and then he pulled off, chest heaving as he swallowed without thinking. It wasn’t salty, not like he’d been told, but it was musky.

“I take it I did alright?” Cas asked, sitting back on his knees before wiping his mouth with his hand. He could feel the fire of desire tampering down as if it had been put out, the insistent gnawing hunger finally sated.

Dean needed a moment to collect himself before he sat up, body still flushed and chest still heaving. He thought about leaning forward and kissing Cas but he was dizzy so he didn’t, choosing instead to drag himself off of the floor and onto the bed.

“More than alright. Gotta lay down though, fuck I’m tired.”

Cas picked up their clothing and set it to the side before he climbed into bed with Dean, curling up to his side. Despite the sudden confidence and the new experience, he still wanted the reassurance that came with being in Dean’s arms.

“So you’re really okay with everything that’s happened? You really have no problems with whatever’s happening to me?”

“I had a problem with it at first, I think. When I was first getting sick, I mean.” Dean began, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. “But I don’t have problems with it anymore. None of what happened is your fault and it isn’t my fault either, we’re both kind of victims here. Just hope you’re okay with whatever’s happening with me.”

“Of course I’m okay with everything happening to you. Be kind of a double standard if I wasn’t. Just wish I hadn’t been such an idiot and isolated myself for so long.”

“You were scared, I don’t really blame you for doing it. I probably would’ve done the same. Speaking of you, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, I think. Not so sick or burny so maybe you were right about what’s gotta happen.”

Dean grinned, pulling Cas a bit closer before reaching for the covers so they’d be safe if someone decided to walk in at any point. He felt better than he had when he’d first shown up, not totally secure, but in a good enough place to feel solid.

“So lots of sex, that’s what I’m hearing.”

“Think you can handle that?” Cas teased, putting his head on Dean’s chest to listen to his heart. The beat was steady, comforting.

“I think I can make that work, may just have to pencil you in in between bouts of tiredness.”

Cas snorted quietly but felt content enough to just lay there with Dean, eyes closing. He’d been dead set against seeing Dean, dead set against hurting him again, but Dean hadn’t been having it. Dean had been nothing but caring and sweet and Cas was left wondering about it until he drifted off to sleep.

Dean lay there with Cas in his arms for quite a while, mulling over his own thoughts. He’d expected a fight ending in bloody screaming tears, a fight where the person he loved told him they didn’t want him but Cas hadn’t done that at all. They’d argued, of course they had because they’d been so scared, but it had all ended well. Of course they’d have their spats but at the end of the day, Cas had almost died trying to save him and that meant more to dean than he’d ever admit out loud.

As Dean drifted off, he came to peace with the thought that he and Cas would be intrinsically linked for the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

Dean was no stranger to Cas’ bed, not since the events of the day after his birthday some five months prior. He’d spent many a night in it cuddled up under the sheets watching movies and talking but they’d done more than that too. Cas had been taken apart and built back up on that bad and Dean had too, something he found he was incredibly okay with.

When he woke up on this particular morning, something felt different. He woke up in Cas’ arms, face buried in the junction of his neck and shoulder, and smiled happily knowing the rare occurrence had become slightly more common. Dean pressed a tired kiss to Cas’ neck and settled down to enjoy the intimate moment.

Cas shifted when he felt the kiss, cracking an eye open. “Morning, Dean.”

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Dean mumbled back, face still buried in Cas’ neck.

“You feeling alright after last night? Didn’t mean to get so excited.”

“I’ll live but you’ve got to be extra nice to me today.”

“Coffee and breakfast level nice?”

Dean pulled away slightly, still tired but grinning at Cas. “Spoil me level nice.”

“We’ll start with breakfast and coffee and go from there.”

Dean shrugged but didn’t argue though he did complain under his breath when Cas rolled out of bed and away from him. He watched Cas fish around for some pants, eyes lingering on the red scratches still visible on his back. It would’ve been the polite thing to do to say something but Dean decided against it, rather pleased with his handiwork. Payback was back scratches it seemed.

Cas made his way downstairs with a yawn, padding into the kitchen where Grace was in the middle of making breakfast. She turned when she heard footsteps, unsurprised to find Cas in the kitchen. “There’s coffee in a couple mugs for you two and I’m almost done with breakfast. Made sure Dean’s got extra bacon, we both know how he is.”

“That’ll win me some brownie points.”

Grace nodded, stifling a small laugh when Cas turned and she saw the red scratches. She had no doubt they’d been busy the night prior and that just confirmed it.

Cas raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Your back, sweetheart. I’d put on a shirt if I were you.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Cas muttered, face flushed beet red. “Well, I’ll wait till after the ceremony and then I’ll kill him.”

Grace chuckled again but didn’t say anything else, letting Cas put everything on a tray and bring it upstairs. They’d both be down eventually and the day would continue on like it usually did.

Dean was sitting up in bed when Cas shuffled in and he grinned when he noticed Cas’ irritated expression. “Did your mom tell on me?”

“Yeah she did. Made you extra bacon too cuz I’m pretty sure she loves you more than me.”

“Loves me more than you do.” Dean said, mulling over the words as he scooted over to make room for Cas. They sat pressed against each other like they so often did and Dean dropped his head onto Cas’ shoulder. “You do realize that you just implied that you love me.”

“Don’t tell me you need me to say it out loud.” Cas teased, still smiling. He hadn’t really considered what it meant but he was alright with the implication. More than okay, really.

“I did say you were supposed to be spoil me level nice today.”

Cas sighed, a pretend sigh as if he were being horrifically inconvenienced, before he took the tray off of his lap and set it at the foot of his bed. He turned then, just enough to be able to press a soft kiss to the top of Dean’s head.

“I do love you, Dean.”

Dean blushed, glad his face was partially buried in Cas’ chest.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to say those words to you but I’m glad I can. I’m glad you stuck around and worked with what was happening with me and I’m glad you put up with my family and all the crazy shit.”

Dean smiled again, face still buried and words still muffled. “Wasn’t gonna let a little near death and permanent changes scare me off, not from you.”

“That’s sweet.” Cas smiled, pulling away to grab the tray so that they could eat. “You’re sweet.”

“A little stupid too, kind of like an orange cat, but that’s why you love me.”

“Pretty sure the me at the beginning of September would be having a heart attack right now if he could see us. No way in Hell he would’ve imagined us actually getting together, let alone us actually sleeping together, and definitely not the whole like sex demonification of the ex-catholic with religious trauma.”

“Well I don’t think September me would believe that we finally got together, that demons not only exist but that his boyfriend is kind of sort of one, and that he’d be kind of permanently disabled.”

Cas frowned slightly, wrapping an arm around Dean. “I’m still really sorry that you kind of got the short end of the stick.”

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it. I mean my leg really doesn’t like the permanent nerve damage and the brain fog and fatigue suck ass but at least I get a cool ass cane. Still can’t believe Thea made it either.”

Cas shrugged, turning back to his breakfast. They sat there in comfortable silence as they ate, neither too worried about what was being said or what was being left unsaid. It had been like this for months as they adjusted to their new routine and beat down the hiccups until everything was well again. The process wasn’t easy but neither seemed to mind.

“My mom wants me to get ready at home so I’m gonna have to get going soon.” Dean said as he slid off the bed, setting his empty plate and mug back on the tray. “Are you still coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world, of course I’ll be there.”

Dean smiled softly before reaching for his clothing on the floor, spending a few minutes hunting for a sock which he eventually found under the bed. As he searched, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

They’d been through s much together and somehow made it out on the other side mostly intact. Of course Cas had his weird biology and Dean had his fucked up nerves and brain fog but he didn’t mind, not really. He didn’t enjoy the nightmares that they still had either but at least they could be honest and share them with each other.

They spent most nights together, crammed into Dean’s twin bed or Cas’ single bed but neither of them seemed to mind. Their parents didn’t seem to mind either, almost always prepared to make an extra breakfast or lunch if need be.

“Yours is still on Friday at 10, right?” Dean asked as he pulled his t-shirt on. “Just want to make sure I don’t show up on the wrong day for some rando.”

“Yeah it is. Not sure why they decided all the English kids need to be on Friday but I guess that’s just how it worked out.”

With his clothes back on and his bag slung over his shoulder, Dean shuffled back over to the bed. He leaned down to kiss Cas softly, smiling when he pulled away.

“Hey Cas,” he murmured, their foreheads pressed together. “I got something to tell you.”

Cas tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, staring up at Dean with a good natured curiosity. Dean seemed to be in one of his good moods and Cas was more than alright with that. “What?”

“I love you too.”

Cas beamed, winding his arms around Dean’s neck before kissing him breathless.

The Devil may have made them do it the first time but the Devil was dead and this was their choice.

It would always be their choice.