Sam walked away from the motel room, head bowed, hands pushed deep within the confines of his brown jacket. His brows were pulled down low over his eyes, mouth pressed down in a tight line, still feeling a little sore from being first killed by Anna, then brought back to life by the Archangel Michael before being transported without warning by Michael back to the motel room. He knew he needed sleep more than anything else, yet needed the fresh air of a midnight walk to clear his head before he even thought about climbing back into bed once more.

He still needed to think over his meeting with the younger versions of his parents as well, a liberty previously denied him when Dean had been sent to the past by Castiel some months before. He could now understand Dean's quietness with regards to how their parents had been, both now regretful it had turned out the way it had for them all. He put his head down and continued walking, tried to clear his mind of all troubling thoughts in the hopes of becoming tired enough to sleep without dreaming, of not seeing Anna's face, or his mom's, his dad's, with his dreaming mind's eye.

Dean sat upon his motel room bed, fully clothed, tired but unable to sleep. He was worried about Castiel, still unconscious from using up too much of the power remaining to him when travelling through time to return to his side. Dean hoped that the angel, his lover, would be fine. He shifted uncomfortably against the hard mattress beneath his butt, and rested his head against the wall behind him with a determined thump.

"C'mon, Cas, wake up," Dean all but pleaded, glad that Sam, at least, wasn't in the room to hear his moment of weakness, of pleading with the angel to regain consciousness.

Sam, no doubt, would have ribbed him for that, of making a fuss of him, showing how much he loved and cared for the angel and would not have let him hear the last of it, if he'd been there. Dean hadn't known what to do, hadn't known of a way to wake Castiel up, either at that moment in time or when they'd been in the past and he'd laid Castiel down upon the bed in a honeymoon suite of a 1978 motel room. His lips quirked at the irony of that, despite the worry taking over his mind and wrenching at his heart.

"Too bad we didn't get to use that honeymoon suite, Cas," he murmured, turning his gaze to the angel's too still face, closed eyes fragile above waxen cheeks. "Maybe another time, huh? When you're awake."

He moved from his bed to Castiel's, suddenly unable to bear not being by Castiel's side while he lay unconscious. Although Dean knew deep down that it looked likely Castiel would wake up - after all, he'd woken from unconsciousness once already - it still worried Dean that maybe Castiel wouldn't wake. In that case, Dean really didn't know what he'd do without him by his side. Castiel was the first person he'd ever truly loved since Cassie, and knew he would be the last if he went. He settled gently beside the angel, lifted Castiel's floppy body gently and cradled him against his own body, rocking him slightly and pressing his lips against Castiel's hair line, mouth lingering against soft skin and inhaling the scent of Castiel's hair.

"Wake up, Cas. I don't know what I'd do without you here, you know," the hunter murmured, pain tightening his voice into fresh wounds.

He settled his lover against his body in a more comfortable position, head resting against Dean's shoulder, with the hunter's arms wrapped securely about Castiel's slender body to keep him still, to support him, to comfort him and maybe pull him back from wherever he was right now, trapped within his own vessel someplace where Dean couldn't reach him.

Dean rested his head against the wall behind him once more, eyes closed, mouth parted and open, drawing in breath after painful breath as he thought over the past few hours. He remembered once more of meeting John and Mary when they were younger, seeing how his parents were before everything happened, everything went wrong. Mary had been beautiful, full of life and love while John had been much kinder, unblemished by revenge, knowing only love instead.

Dean remembered once again begging Mary to not go into the nursery, to take the babies and run, even to leave John himself, leave him behind so that she could save herself from the fate Dean knew was ahead of her. She'd refused, as Dean suspected she might, revealing that she was already pregnant and couldn't leave John. Dean smiled bitterly when he knew that it was he himself she was pregnant with.

He sighed, kissed the top of Castiel's head once more and rubbed the angel's arm through the sleeve of his tan coat, feeling how warm he was beneath his clothes. Dean caressed Castiel's cheek, smiled when he saw the first faint stirrings of life within his lover's too still expression, felt his heart leap when he knew that Castiel was trying to come back to him. He leant in, pressed his lips against Castiel's ripe, slack mouth, mouth lingering and wishing for Castiel's usual responsiveness when he was kissed.

"Come back to me, baby," Dean whispered against Castiel's soft mouth gently.

Dean settled the angel's body against his own more firmly, returned his gaze blindly to the ceiling as his thoughts meandered over the memories of the past day once more. He remembered searching for Anna, of cursing her very existence quietly to himself when she'd threatened the safety of his parents, remembered the sheer panic he'd felt but not shown of wondering if both he and Sam would be able to save them from her.

He remembered the show-down between Anna and Mary, of fighting Anna himself, of witnessing Sam being stabbed through the chest by Anna, of seeing Uriel again in a younger vessel and feeling that same old hatred he always did when faced with the smirking angel. He felt a savage stab of twisted relief over the memory of seeing Uriel sent packing by the snap of an archangel's fingers.

Dean thought once more of finally meeting Michael, albeit in his father's younger body, an archangel that was determined to ride his own body hard in the fight against Lucifer. A dark cloud descended upon Dean's mind once more at the memories called up over Michael's proclamations that there was no free will, only not quite random acts of chance that set the end of the world in lurid motion, small baby steps at first that meant so much in the end. Mary, John, even Dean and Sam themselves were pawns in a much larger game and none of them were expected to argue or to question why. They had little to no choice in anything and could only echo what their ancestors, Cain and Abel, once did, many moons ago.

Dean groaned, mind skimming past the troubling conversation with the Archangel, decided they were thoughts best left to another time, when he wasn't so tired, so weary, wondering if there was ever going to be another time when he wasn't tired and weary. To him, then, it didn't seem likely.

He returned his attention to the angel held in his arms when he felt Castiel finally beginning to properly stir, gentle movements at first, shifting of slender fingers against the t shirt covering Dean's stomach, lifting the fabric and exposing scraps of skin to the air. Dean watched him closely, mouth pouting out into a gentle shape, arousal stirring his dick into life when the angel instinctively slipped his hand beneath Dean's t shirt, rested against the well toned abdomen of the hunter. Castiel's hand was hot and heavy against Dean's skin, a welcome weight as Castiel's eyes fluttered open, large and blue and so close to Dean's. They were strikingly beautiful, the first thing Dean always noticed about his lover, apart from his mouth, always ready to be kissed.

"Dean," Castiel murmured, voice gruffer than usual due to hours of disuse while unconscious and Dean smiled, slightly amused that Castiel's first word upon waking was the hunter's own name.

Castiel repeated Dean's name again, the flicker of a smile pushing his ripe mouth out into gentle lines before Dean kissed him tenderly, mouth lingering against Castiel's when he felt the responsiveness of their silken surfaces against his own. The hunter became lost in the kiss, gave himself wholly to Castiel, fingers stroking through the angel's soft, dark hair as Castiel leant in closer still, tongue sliding eagerly into Dean's mouth when the hunter opened willingly for him.

Castiel felt a rush of aroused pleasure race through him, glad that his first sight upon regaining consciousness was his lover, and the first thing he felt was Dean's arms around him, holding him safe and steady and the feel of Dean's mouth pressing gentle, tender kisses against his head. It was moments like that when Dean was at his ease, let his guard down and showed how much he truly loved Castiel and each moment was there to be gathered in Castiel's expansive memory and treasured for the gems they were. He responded to each and every last one of Dean's lazy kisses, lost in feel of his lover's mouth locked tight with his own, his lover's body pressed in close against his.

"I thought you weren't coming back for a while, there, Cas," Dean said, with a lazy smile that didn't quite cover his previous alarm, his fear that Castiel would leave him.

"I will always come back to you, Dean. You know that," Castiel replied immediately, never dropping his gaze from Dean's for an instant.

Dean smiled, dipped his head in a slow nod, before he said - "I know. I'd always come back to you as well."

Before he could speak further, Castiel pressed his fingers against Dean's mouth, forestalling further talk from the hunter, before he gave the hunter a level look.

"No more talking, Dean," he said, voice taking on a familiar note of command that Dean never failed to listen to, at least when they were alone in bed together. "I want you to make love to me."

Dean's eyebrows lifted in a sudden surprise, but he grinned behind Castiel's long fingers still pressed against his mouth. Dean nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Castiel's face, drinking in every last plane and facet of his expression, lingering on his eyes, his lips, the way his tongue peeked from between them to moisten their surfaces.

"Make love to me, now," Castiel commanded, hands pawing at Dean's clothing insistently, eyes hungry and deep.

Dean drew away from Castiel's hands, before undressing himself slowly, easing his jeans away from sturdy hips, boxers following suit and freeing his erection to spring free and curl up towards the scrap of skin exposed by his lifted t shirt. Castiel watched him hungrily, gaze heavy upon Dean's body as the hunter continued to undress, fingers now fumbling and unsteady beneath the weight of his lover's scrutiny.

Castiel licked his lips, loved seeing Dean dissemble and undress before him, loved to see Dean getting naked and all for him. An air of expectancy held sway over him and he laid back, still gathering strength from recent weary unconsciousness to even undress himself yet. He was too content in watching Dean for the moment.

Finally Dean had finished undressing, every part of his body exposed to the air around them, flushed, ready, eager and already covered in a thin sheen of expectant sweat. Dean was panting, breath rasping harshly in his throat as he climbed onto the bed beside his lover once more, fumbling with Castiel's clothes and undressing him hastily, until Castiel was as naked as he was. Dean once again left the angel's side, bare ass catching the light and attracting the full weight of Castiel's gaze. Dean turned slightly in his search for lube, and couldn't help himself from grinning.

"Dude, you're totally checking out my ass," he said, in a laughing aside to the angel stretched out naked upon the bed.

Castiel turned his too innocent gaze up to Dean's, tongue sweeping out to moisten his lips but he didn't deny a thing, when he knew as well as Dean did that he really was checking out Dean's ass.

"It's alright, Cas, I like your ass, too, among other things," Dean murmured, lust heavy in his tone as it was in his gaze, already returning his attention back the search for lube. "Son of a bitch, where's that lube?"

Castiel's voice cut through the air and he said - "Try the left hand pocket. I think that's where you put it last night."

"Right, thanks, Cas," Dean murmured, pulling the lube free from where Castiel had said it was.

He padded across the room, shivering slightly with the sudden chill of moving air against exposed skin. He climbed upon the bed beside his lover, smiled when Castiel watched his every move, eyes dark and shot through with lust. Castiel's lips were parted, plump surfaces wet from where his tongue had swept out over their dry surfaces and Dean unconsciously licked his own lips as he stared at Castiel.

"Get on your hands and knees, Cas," he said, after clearing his throat first, finding it difficult to speak initially.

Castiel nodded his long, slow nod at him, before doing as Dean had requested, whimpering in sudden expectant need at the first feel of Dean's hand sweeping over his ass gently. Dean's eyes travelled over Castiel's eager body, shaking slightly from holding his position, and smiled. He quickly spread shining strands of lube over his fingers, wanted, needed to be inside Castiel as soon as possible.

His wet fingertips skimmed over the surface of Castiel's ass once more, stroked against the tight ring of muscles surrounding his hole, before easing one finger inside his lover gently. He winced at Castiel's first hiss of pain, waited until the tension left the angel's body, leaving him open for Dean. The hunter stretched his lover eagerly, widened, loosened him, soon adding another finger to stretch him still further.

Castiel's eyes were closed, body rocking back onto Dean's fingers eagerly, mewls leaking from his lips as shudder after expectant shudder worked through him. His dick was hard, begging attention but he refused to give in, refused to touch himself until Dean was inside him. As if sensing Castiel's growing aroused discomfort, Dean withdrew, before planting a gentle kiss at the small of Castiel's back, making the angel whine with need once more.

Dean smiled, before he positioned himself behind Castiel, hands clutching at the angel's hips gently to steady him before slowly easing into his lover, inch by slow, painful inch. He moaned, a thick, heavy note rasping in his throat at the first feel of Castiel wrapping around him, dry warmth snug against his taut skin. He waited until Castiel's pain filled whimpers faded, the tension had left his body, replaced by expectation and pleading whimpers for Dean to do something.

Castiel cried out when Dean finally sheathed himself fully inside him, filling him completely, dick a tight fit inside his tight channel. He felt so good inside him, felt even better when he started to move and thrust into him, hips jarring against hips with gentle strokes. Castiel spread his legs wider still, inviting Dean in still further and the hunter moaned at Castiel's responsiveness beneath him. Dean leant in closer still, adjusted the angle and lengthened his strokes, thrusting his dick deeper inside his lover and striking his prostate with eager thrusts.

Castiel's body jerked beneath the onslaught, head bobbing with the force of Dean's thrusts, as he rocked forwards on hands and knees every time that Dean thrust into him. Wordless cries of aroused pleasure dropped from his open mouth, encouraging Dean on to still further efforts, rolling his hips and grunting with effort.

Castiel moaned when he finally allowed himself to touch his own dick, felt the tension straining within the circle of his fingers and his wrist snapped against taut flesh eagerly. He imagined Dean's face slack with ecstasy, concentrated on the feel of Dean's dick inside him, his confident thrusts, the scent of shared arousal hanging thick between them. He cried out, wordlessly, as he continued pleasuring himself beneath his lover until finally he came with a shout of Dean's name. He filled his palm with the evidence of his love, spurting forth in thick strands, come spilling from his fingers and dripping down onto the sheets beneath him.

Dean felt the shudders and tremors of Castiel's orgasm rocking his lover's deceptively fragile body, tightening his channel still further against Dean's dick and pulling his orgasm full force from his body unexpectedly. Dean screamed Castiel's name to the ceiling, body shuddering and jerking against Castiel's as he filled the angel with thick spurts of his come. Dean pulled away, softening member sliding easily from his ass, as they both collapsed down upon the bed in an untidy, sweaty jumble of arms and legs.

Castiel claimed a sloppy kiss from Dean's mouth, tongues meeting in mid air as their lips parted, playing against each other in wet stripes as their lips clashed together once more, turning the kiss quickly dirty and perfect. Dean slowly pulled the sheets over their naked bodies, covering themselves against the possible arrival of Sam, without ever breaking into the kiss with his lover. Dean didn't mind his brother witnessing them kiss, as he'd seen them kissing plenty of times before, but he didn't want Sam to see them both naked.

Dean didn't have to worry, as Sam returned some time later, cold from the rain outside, to see Castiel awake, yet weary, held in the tight, possessive circle of Dean's arms while Dean himself slept. Sam smiled, eased the door shut behind him, before going to the bathroom to change for bed. He was glad to see Castiel conscious and seemingly well enough to want Dean, by the state of undress and the messed sheets surrounding him and Sam's brother.

Sam sighed, stared at his own reflection momentarily in the motel room mirror, before thinking to himself that at least something good had come out of the too long day. He turned away, wondered what their shared futures would hold and whether Dean and himself would have to give in, say yes to Michael and Lucifer both. He forced himself not to think about it with a struggle, telling himself instead, that at least Castiel would be there to help them, no matter what happened to them all. That provided a unexpected surge of comfort for Sam, where he didn't expect comfort at all ...

-fini-