"Dean?"

At the sound of the voice behind him, the elder Winchester yanked his plaid sleeve down so hard it nearly ripped. When he turned around, Cas was staring at him quizzically, with his head tilted in confusion. Dean's heart rate sped as he self-consciously rubbed a scar through his shirtsleeve. Did Cas know? Had he seen? Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Cas recovered, apparently clueless. He gave a crooked smile in response to Cas's shimmering eyes, wishing he knew if they were merely sparkling or wet with tears.

What he didn't know was that Cas knew. He knew and he was in pain. Because he loved Dean, he did. That's why he made himself visible. From his silent and invisible post he had seen Dean roll up his sleeve with shaking fingers, he had seen the array of scars in varying shades of pink that littered Dean's arms and wrists. And he had seen the glint of the blade lying next to Dean on the bed. He hadn't planned to make himself known, but after seeing what he had… it just happened. He didn't have a choice. He only hoped Dean wouldn't see his eyes filling with tears.
"What's up, Cas?" Dean's voice cracked as he shifted to block the blade from the angel's view.

"Nothing…" Cas's head tilted again and his eyes bore through Dean, "Are you okay, Dean?"

"Fine and dandy. Where's Sammy?" Dean rose and Castiel noted the blade's disappearance, probably to Dean's back pocket. Cas thought he would grab that later; maybe Sam would understand it. He frowned, but didn't speak up, figuring it would be one of those 'chick-flick moments' Dean despised. It would have to wait until later. Cas cleared his throat, "I believe he's at the library… doing research."

He heard Dean mutter 'nerd' under his breath and felt a small smile creep across his lips at the brothers' antics. He watched Dean pour a drink and his smile faded. He wished Dean would take care of himself. Dean turned around and flashed Cas a quick smile, and Cas felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle. What did that mean? He made a mental note to ask Sam about it later and with a flutter of wings, he was gone.

Sam sat in the library, barely able to concentrate on the article in front of him that lay on top of his Dad's journal. He realized he had read the same line five times and rubbed his eyes hard trying to get himself to focus. When his vision came back into focus and he looked up, a certain angel in a trench coat was sitting across from him, simply gazing into the distance. Sam visibly jumped, "Cas?"

"Hello, Sam."

"You okay, dude?" Sam noticed Cas still hadn't made eye contact.

"Yes. I am what your brother would say as 'fine and dandy.' Although I am not sure I understand the connotations of that phrase."

Sam rolled his eyes at the clueless angel. He didn't understand a lot, but that was a problem for another day. Cas didn't seem eager to talk – he was still staring at something behind Sam – and Sam didn't push. He had research anyways. He buried himself in the article again, only vaguely aware of the concerned angel across from him.

Cas was torn. What did he say to Sam? He was new to all of these 'human' situations and he didn't know the right thing to do. He felt his eyes shift back and forth as he struggled with his thoughts, and this time Sam noticed. He glanced up from the scattered pages and saw Cas's blank expression – never good. "Cas? C'mon man, something's bothering you. Is it about Dean? You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yes, I know. I am just not sure how to proceed in this situation. I believe it is what Dean refers to as a 'chick-flick moment."

Sam was noticeably confused, so Cas continued, "He does not like to talk about his feelings."

The younger Winchester chuckled at the clarification, "You got that right. But you look concerned. Is Dean okay?"

Sammy was only half paying attention, but when Cas hesitated he snapped up, "Cas, he's okay, right?"

Cas felt his eyes getting sparkly again and Sam noticed too. Cas was crying? That couldn't be good. "Look at me, Cas. What's going on? Don't make me trap you in holy oil."

He leaned forward to whisper the last bit, and Cas took advantage of the close proximity to reach out to Sam's forehead and transport them to the motel. Right outside of their room, to be precise. "I think Dean is hurt."

Those words definitely held Sam's attention, his brother was the world to him, "What do you mean, Cas? Like from that last hunt? Because you know they said it could take a while for him to heal…" Sam trailed off as Cas's face told him it was something different.

"No Sam. Not from the hunt," Cas was unsure of how to approach such an obviously sensitive topic, so he decided to act naïve, "I think his arm is hurt."

Now Sam looked confused, "His arm?"

"Yes. He has a lot of scars on his arm," Cas paused and looked at Sam, trying to gauge his reaction. It didn't look like he had caught on yet, "There are a lot of lines. He looked like he was in pain when I watched him this morning. He didn't know I was there."

Cas could see the wheels spinning in Sam's head so he sighed and reached into his pocket. He wrapped his fist around the small blade and held it out to Sam. The razor was still enveloped in his wrist so Sam couldn't see it. Cas's heart began to pound in his chest as Sam reached out tentatively. It looked like Sam was catching on. "I took this from his pocket."

Cas opened his fist and let the small sliver of silver fall into Sam's open palm. Sam's face went white and a range of emotions passed over. First confusion, then anger, and finally a look of the most heartbreaking anguish Cas had ever seen on a human. He was confused, "What does it mean, Sam?"

Sam's voice was a whisper, "It means Dean did it to himself."

Cas finally understood what it meant when people said their hearts dropped. He felt sick because this is what he had hoped Sam would deny. He felt more strange feelings, but he saw Sam's face and figured those questions were for later. Sam pushed past him into the motel room and Cas followed.

"Dean!" Cas could tell Sam was trying very hard not to yell, but his voice cracked as he called for his brother. Dean appeared from the bedroom, "Can't a guy get some sleep around here?"

"Can I see your shirt for a sec?"

Dean froze for a second before glancing down at the long sleeve plaid shirt that covered only a T-shirt, "Why?"

"Just give me your shirt, Dean!"

"Why, Sammy?!"

"This is why, Dean!" Sam slammed the blade on the table between them, no longer holding back and playing dumb. Dean's face went blank and his stomach clenched. His eyes flicked to Cas and he saw his eyes sparkling again, the same sparkle from that morning – and they were definitely tears. He had seen. Dean's jaw clenched, "Cas?"

"No, Dean. Don't put this on him. Tell me what's going on."

Dean's eyes filled with pain as he looked back to his baby brother, "Please, Sammy. Don't do this…"

Sam's voice came out as a broken whisper, "Dean… I don't have a choice."

Dean could see that the damage was already done, he had already destroyed his brother, so he pulled off the button-up, tears burning in his eyes. He turned to toss the shirt on his bed and then slowly he faced his brother. Sam maintained eye contact and held out his shaking hand. Dean's eyes moved away, anywhere but his brother, and they locked on Cas as he put his arm into Sam's waiting hand. He heard Sam gasp in shock and a tear spilled out, and he watched in shock as one fell from Cas's eye as well. "Dean…"

It took every ounce of strength he had to tear his eyes from Cas and look to Sam, who was obviously trying not to cry. Dean looked for his brother's comforting gaze, but saw Sam's eyes locked onto his arm and felt the tears drip onto his scars. Somehow, it hurt more than any look his brother could give him. Sam looked up and met his eyes. No, that look was definitely worse. "Why, Dean?"

"Sammy, I'm sorry. I am. I don't know… it's just hard. I screwed up so bad. I had too much to deal with… I needed a way out. That's all it was supposed to be… just a way out. But then it kept happening and I just don't know what to do. I'm scared, Sammy."

The sudden rush of emotion left Sam speechless and he found his anger leaving him. Pulling Dean close, he wrapped his arms around his older brother and tried to comfort him, but his mind was swimming. Cas disappeared.

Since all of Dean's scars had for the most part healed, the only bandaging Sam could do was talking it out. He forced Dean over to his bed and sat on his own, looking to his brother. Dean appeared deep in thought, "Cas!"

Sam looked up, the angels name being the last thing he was expecting Dean to lead with, "Excuse me?" His voice was lined with pain and confusion.

"You got it from Cas. I had that blade this morning and you had it when you came back… with Cas."

Sam looked down, confirming it to Dean, "Damn it, Cas!"

"He was just trying to help!"

"He had no right –"

"He had every right! He cares about you, Dean. You may not see it, you may be playing dumb, but he cares about you."

"He… what?!"

"He only wants to help you because he cares. And I know you care about him too or you wouldn't be this upset."

Dean was confused and speechless. What did this have to do with him cutting? Besides, he might care for Cas, but not like Sam was implying. He was straight, damn it!

"Earth to Dean?"

"Sorry Sammy… thinking."

"Dean look, I know this job is rough, but you don't always need to be the tough one. I'm not a little kid you need to protect anymore. I can protect you too."

"Sammy –"

"Listen. You obviously need help, and I'm the only person with you practically all day every day. You need help and I want to help. You're my brother and I love you… you can't be doing this to yourself, man. You need to talk to me!"

This visibly took Dean aback, but he couldn't disagree. Sam was right about, well, everything. But Sam was his little brother; he didn't need Dean's problems. Dean was torn. As if Sam could read his mind, he piped up at that moment, "You know, you could talk to Cas instead."

Dean's eyes flicked up, wondering if there was some ulterior motive behind the suggestion, but Sam's tear-filled eyes showed nothing but genuine concern. Of course they would, there was nothing between Dean and Cas to suggest. And yet there that thought was…

"Dean?"

"Yeah… I guess I can talk to Cas. If you think he'd understand this kinda thing."

Sam looked a little hurt that Dean didn't want to talk to him, but his face soon flooded with relief that Dean was going to talk to somebody. As if on cue, Cas made himself visible in the far corner, having already listened to their entire conversation. He understood Dean's doubts, but his stomach got a weird feeling when Dean said he would rather talk to Cas. Another question for Sam. By now they had both noticed him, and they decided to work on the case for the moment, though it was obvious that Sam was in pain and neither brother was mentally present.

Sam sat on the hood of the Impala with a plastic gas station carton of salad when Cas appeared next to him.

"You have got to stop doing that!" Sam choked out when he finally managed to remove the crouton from his windpipe, "Especially when I'm eating."

"My apologies. I just had a question."

"Shoot."

"Where is Dean?"

"He's in the motel room. Sleeping. That's your question?"

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprised and Cas sighed, "No. I was wondering about feelings."

Cas could feel Sam's smile on him and he refused to make eye contact, but he could feel his cheeks turning pink. Still refusing to look at the younger brother he quickly got out, "The hairs on my neck tingled when Dean looked at me and when he said he wanted to talk to me about his problems my stomach felt sick. I do not know what these feelings mean."

"Cas, that means you have a crush!"

"I do not understand that reference."

"Not a reference – it means you like Dean. In a more than friends way," he made sure to clarify when he saw Cas move to counter. With the further explanation, Cas froze. He couldn't really deny it. When Sam put it like that, Cas realized it must be true. He was feeling these human emotions and he didn't understand. When he looked up, Sam was giving him a strange look that made him uncomfortable, "What?"

"Cas… Dean likes girls. At least he thinks he does. I've known since we were little that he likes boys too, but he refuses to get his head out of his ass. I don't know if you can change that."

"Oh."

"Look, I know Dean feels something towards you. I just don't know if Dean knows."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Dean is a little… behind with these things. Next time he needs to talk to you, see what happens, okay?"

Sam was being pretty vague, but Cas agreed and waited for Dean to call.

The call came only another week later, just three weeks after Cas and Sam had confronted Dean. Dean was lying on his bed in the newest motel while Sam went hunting for their usual groceries, namely salad and pie. He traced one of his scars with his fingers and thought about the razor in the cramped bathroom, but he thought better about it, "Cas! Get your feathery ass down here, buddy! I need you!"

Dean turned around and there Cas was. And then Cas was closer – much closer. And then Cas's lips were against his lips. And then Cas was gone. Dean looked around, wondering if it had all been a dream, before he noticed his heart was pounding in his chest and his lips felt slightly more chapped. What the hell happened?

"Uh… Cas, man. Come back. We gotta talk about that." Talking was the last thing Dean wanted to do, but there wasn't really much choice. He saw Cas appear – across the room this time – and reluctantly bring his eyes to Dean's. Dean stared back, wondering how he never realized how blue Cas's eyes were before he snapped out of it, "What was that?"

"Sam said to see what happens."

"Sam said what now?"

"I told him about my feelings and he said it meant I like you and I should see what happens."

"…What?"

"I felt sad when Sam told me the razor meant you gave yourself those scars. My neck felt prickly when you smiled at me. My stomach felt tingly when you said you wanted to talk to me when you feel sad."

Dean could only look at Cas in shock.

"Dean please don't hurt yourself more. It makes me… sad. Yes, that's the word. I want you to be happy, Dean."

Dean just continued to stare at Cas. Then his entire expression shifted as if he had an epiphany. Before he even knew what he was doing, Dean was pressing himself against Cas and his lips were sliding perfectly over the angel's, his tongue swiping over Cas's bottom lip asking for access. Neither of them heard the door open.

"Fucking finally!"

Dean jumped back from Cas, but refused to look at his brother. He saw Cas turn scarlet and he knew his was a very similar tint when he felt his ears burning.

"No, don't mind me. I'm leaving."

They heard the door close, but Dean and Cas still didn't break eye contact. "Bitch!" Dean yelled at the door.

"Jerk!" the door responded immediately.

Dean smiled hesitantly with his heart pounding and he stepped closer to Cas lightly pressing his lips to his angel's, feeling for the first time that everything would be okay.