Sweets approached cautiously, for once glad to have Sam Winchester looming behind him. Dean was leaning inside the hood of his car, pretending to work on something. Daisy was chattering away cheerfully, oblivious to his expression of barely contained fury and his knuckles turning white around the wrench. Sweets didn't think Dean would actually hurt her, but he thought her car might be in trouble.

"Hi guys," Sweets said, putting on his calmest therapist voice, "is everything okay here?"

"Oh, we're fine. I was just telling Dean about how the lab is nearly back to working order. Dr Brennan's going to be so happy when she sees the new examination table. Probably not as happy as she would have been if Dean hadn't burnt that evidence in the first place, but still... I thought he might like a tour."

Dean glared at the hood of his car, and looked like he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less than go on a tour of the lab with Daisy.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dean?" Sam asked, breaking in over Daisy. "You're kind of rocking the crazy eyes."

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to bring Sam after all. Sweets would have to talk to him about tact in one of his sessions. He knew Sam could be tactful when he wanted. Apparently he hadn't learnt to employ it where his brother was concerned.

Dean looked at his brother. "What crazy eyes?"

"You know, like before you smashed up the impala with the crowbar."

Dean looked away again. "You saw that, huh?"

Daisy finally noticed Dean's grip on the wrench and took a step back, and then another. Sweets thought she might be trying to escape without Dean noticing.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to smash anything."

"Maybe you should," Sam suggested.

Much as Sweets hated to admit it, it was kind of a good idea. "You know what? Why don't you guys stay here, and Daisy and I will go find something for you to smash." He pulled Daisy away.

"There's always your car," Sam said to him, "It's already been on fire."

It took Sweets a moment to realised Sam was joking. Probably.

They enlisted the help of the others to find things to smash.

"I've got an old car at home," Hodgins said. "Is this just for Dean or can I join in?"

Actually, Sweets wouldn't mind smashing something himself. "Maybe if we wait until after Dean's finished," he said.

They drove to Hodgins' mansion in convoy. It took far longer than usual because of all the broken traffic lights, remnants of accidents, and general disorder, but they made it at last. Hodgins led Dean around the back of the gigantic garage and left him there with a crowbar. Soon the sound of metal smashing violently on metal rang across the grounds. It kept going for a surprisingly long time.

Sweets decided it was probably a good time to talk to Cas again.

Castiel glared at him as he approached, but Sweets tried not to let it bother him. Usually it was the people who wanted help the least who needed it the most.

"How are you doing?" Sweets asked.

"I would like the next turn with the crowbar."

"Is your wound hurting? Do you need anything for it?"

"No."

Sweets dug for something else to say. A way to ease into discussion Castiel's obvious control issues. Direct discussion of Castiel's feelings for Dean had obviously been a disaster, but there were many, many other related issues they could work on.

And then Cas said, "Thank you. This is helping him."

"Smashing things doesn't resolve the underlying issues, but it will serve as a stress-release mechanism."

"Much in the way that involvement in the heavy metal scene helped you."

Castiel was looking at him with a gaze he'd only seen levelled at Dean. It was more than just a stare; it was like Cas was looking inside him. It made him very uncomfortable knowing that the angel had only to look at him to know his innermost secrets. Sweets felt very small all of a sudden, rather like a small child who'd just found out that the pretty coloured ball he'd just been rolling around the room was actually a dragon egg.

"You have good intentions, Dr Sweets. It is a pity you misinterpret so much."

Sam came over then. "Sweets? I think Dean's finished. Maybe you should go talk to him. See if you can get him to talk to you now he's let some of it out."

Sweets listened. Sure enough, the smashing from behind the garage had stopped. As he walked towards the now silent site of the old car, he couldn't shake the feeling that Sam was trying to get rid of him. He looked back just before he turned the corner, and saw Sam and Cas with their heads together, quietly discussing something.

Dean was sitting on the ground with his knees up, leaning against one wheel of an old VW, now significantly more battered than it had been. He was drenched in sweat, and the crowbar lay on the ground beside his hand.

He looked up. "Hey Sweets."

"Feeling better?"

"You should have a go."

"Maybe later. Are you ready to talk?"

Dean sighed. "Look, I know you're only trying to help, and I appreciate it, but this whole talking about your feelings thing has just never worked for me. It pretty much just makes stuff worse."

"I know you feel that way now, but these things take time. A lot of it's about working out why you are feeling the way you are."

"I'm pretty sure it's because nothing good ever happens to me. Or if it does it doesn't last."

"This is good, you're talking about it."

"You're a good kid Sweets. And that's why I can't tell you about most of this stuff. You'll never see the world the same. You think this past week has been bad? That's nothing. There are things you can't even imagine, and I'm not going to put them on you."

"Can you talk to someone about it? Maybe Sam or Cas?"

Dean nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

"And I'll give you some behavioural exercises to help you sleep."

"That would be good. So who's next for car smashing?"

"Cas," Sweets told him, and that brought a smile to Dean's face.

"There'll be nothing left."

When everyone had had their turn, and the car was a pile of crumpled, ripped metal, they went up to the house for coffee.

The coffee was fantastic. Hodgins could afford the good stuff. Brennan and Booth made their official announcement that they were a couple, even though everyone knew already. There was a round of congratulations and some suspiciously flirtatious looks between Hodgins and Angela. Dean and Cas avoided each other's eyes.

Finally, Angela said, "Okay, that's it. You guys need to talk. You are so cute together and obviously have feelings for each other. Come with me."

To Sweets' surprise, they followed her. He supposed they'd figured out there was no stopping Angela once she decided something.

Angela flounced back a moment later. "I shut them in the spare room. They aren't allowed out until they talk. Or..."

From the corner of his eye, Sweets thought he saw Sam smirking.

A moment later, raised voices came from the room.

They all huddled closer, not even pretending not to be listening at the door.

"You just disappear –"

"You never want me here except to help – "

"How do you know, you never stay to find out – "

"I have a job to do!"

"So do I!"

"That's not what you said to that woman in Alabama!"

"Seriously, Cas? Are you jealous? That was a year and a half ago!"

"I am not jealous!"

"You're acting jealous."

The room was suddenly silent.

"Oh wow," whispered Angela.

"How did I miss this? I thought they were just friends?" Daisy put in.

Sam was definitely smirking.

The room was still silent.

They waited.

Silence.

More silence.

"Oh, crap," said Sweets.

Hodgins opened the door a crack. No sound came out. He opened it further. The room was empty. The curtain fluttered in the breeze from the open window. A note sat in the centre of the bed. It was in blue ballpoint on a sheet torn from a notebook, and it said:

GONE TO GRAND CANYON. SEE YOU NEXT TIME.

When they walked out the front, the Impala was gone, and Booth and Bones were arguing about whether they had used angel transport or simply climbed out the window.

"I think we should arrange a new time for the two of you to meet with me," Sweets said.

The End

Well, there's a year of my life gone. What should the next crossover be? I'm considering White Collar or Castle.