First time I've written a Destiel AU, and oh God, this made me cry. I'm going to have to write something funny next because I can hardly believe I wrote this WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF. But anyway, it's inspired by the song Art Smock by the Pains of Being Pure At Heart (and that song is awesome, even if it's heartbreaking.)

There's some Supernatural quotes in here, too. I've always liked the idea of an AU Cas as an artist. No idea why.

Hope you...enjoy it, I guess. (Sorry for Destiel angst.)

I want to know what happened to you

I liked you better in your art smock, mocking art rock

Without intention, without design-The Pains of Being Pure At Heart.

The first time Dean Winchester speaks to Castiel Novak, they are sitting in kindergarten together and they've been given paints and an easel.

Castiel Novak-it was the weirdest name Dean had ever heard when he first said it on that introduction day-does not talk to the other kids. He simply sits there, with dark hair and those big blue eyes-big blue eyes that keep drawing Dean's gaze from across the classroom, with his eyes fixed on his easel and that odd, too-big coat hanging off his arms, his hands reaching out as if begging for air.

And Dean Winchester makes up his mind that he's going to be the one to get the weird Novak kid to talk.

So, he makes a beeline across the room, gently brushing off Lisa Braeden, who was pouting at him to sit next to her and sits down next to Castiel. "Hey" he says, after a moment.

It seems to take Castiel Novak a moment to understand that Dean is speaking to him. He looks up, frowning, and his gaze flickers around the classroom. "Hey" he says, very cautiously, after a moment, as though feeling his way through the word.

Dean rolls his eyes impatiently. He knows Castiel Novak is smart-he's the only one who can make his way through the whole reader without any help whatsoever-so he can't understand why the other boy is acting like a complete moron.

"What are you painting?" he says, jerking his head towards Castiel's easel.

Castiel swallows and his gaze flickers between Dean and the easel again, as if he thinks Dean might be tricking him. "A picture" he says, after a second, and Dean rolls his eyes. "No, what are you really painting?"

Castiel blinks. "I just told you" he says and Dean's about to walk away, thinking this is a waste of time because at least Lisa lets him nick her paints, and backs him up if he's caught, when he catches sight of the look in Castiel Novak's eyes-a wide-eyed stare fixed on Dean's. For some reason, he's rooted to the spot, and he doesn't want to move away.

"No, I meant-" and it strikes him for the first time that Castiel really didn't know what he meant. That Castiel doesn't seem to know what a lot of things mean.

"Look" and he turns to face the other kid head on. "I meant, what are you painting a picture of?"

"Oh" and Castiel's brow furrows as he turns back to the easel. "I'm not sure yet."

Dean nods. "Right." A short silence falls between them until Castiel says "I've been watching you."

Dean glances over. "What?"

"Who did you make your clay for yesterday?" and Castiel is staring at him again now. "I've been watching you" he says again, as if it wasn't creepy enough the first time.

"OK." Dean holds up his hand. "Rule number one; you don't watch people."

Castiel blinks. "I'm watching you right now."

Dean shakes his head. He tries to force his mind to register what a bad idea this was-but for some reason, his mind won't. In fact, it's telling him to keep going, keep talking, and he sighs and turns to the boy next to him.

"OK, but you don't watch them-and find things out-and then tell them you found things out-" The words are trailing off out of his mouth and he's starting to think this might have been a bad idea after all.

But then Castiel tips his head to the side and stares at him again. "Why?" And he looks honestly confused.

Dean shakes his head. "It was for my little brother" he says, figuring it's best to be honest. "Sammy. He's two. And it was an ashtray. Not that he smokes, he just likes to put things in them." Sammy is going through a toddling about phase, where he likes to drop things and pick them up again.

"That sounds pleasant" says Castiel. "I have.." And his voice trails off. "I have a lot of brothers" he says quietly, and he swallows as he turns back to the easel.

"Only one" says Dean. "You the youngest?"

Castiel swallows and nods. "Yes. And I have one sister."

"How many brothers?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I lose track. But a lot."

Dean blinks. "What are some of their names?"

Castiel leans back. "Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Uriel-"

"Woh" and Dean holds up a hand. "They're all your brothers?"

Castiel shrugs and looks back at the easel. Dean thinks it makes his complaints about Sammy look pretty small.

"Wow" he says, for lack of anything else to say. "What about your mom?"

"My mother is dead" says Castiel and it's the tone of voice he says it in, that calm, accepting tone that makes Dean look up as much as the words.

"So's mine" he says, forgetting to say sorry. But Castiel doesn't, either, and somehow, that helps.

"What's your dad like?" Dean says, and a small shudder passes through the other boy's shoulders. Dimly, Dean realises Castiel is painting next to him but he doesn't bother to look at either of their easels.

"He is..." Castiel swallows. "He is strict" he says, after another moment. "But he is fair. We don't-he's busy a lot."

Dean nods. "My dad's cool" he says. "He knows how to mend cars. That's what he does with my Uncle Bobby."

Castiel nods. "That sounds useful."

It's several minutes later that the teacher comes over and Dean smiles up at her. He's learned that if you smile, they generally do what you want.

"Good effort, Dean" she says, with a thumbs up-Dean's barely scribbled anything on his canvas. Then, she leans over to look at Castiel's and her jaw drops.

"Castiel, this is brilliant!"

Dean turns to look over the other boy's shoulder and his own mouth falls open.

Castiel is good at painting. Really good at painting. He's painted himself, eyes blue, and somehow with a downcast expression in his eyes. He's even got the coat in.

And next to him, he's painted Dean.

It's not perfect, but it's quite obviously Dean, right down to the jacket his dad got for him that he said had been his when he was Dean's age. And he's smiling at Castiel in the picture, smiling with, Dean's suddenly pretty sure, the same smile he wore in real life.

Castiel is staring at the floor, the blood having risen to his cheeks. But he simply shakes his head and says very quietly, "It's nothing."

Dean looks at him. "What are you talking about?" He stares at the picture again. "That's really cool."

"It's...impressive." The teacher shakes her head again. She stares at Castiel, as if unsure what to say. "Very impressive."

"He's good at it" argues Dean, despite the fact that today is the first day he's spoken to Castiel. "Cas is good at art."

At that, Castiel's head lifts and a small smile blossoms at his mouth.

It's when the teacher walks away, still shaking her head that Castiel turns to Dean and says "You called me Cas."

"Oh." Dean stares at the other boy for a second, wondering if he's managed to wind him up. "Yeah."

Castiel's smile grows until it lights his whole face. Dean stares at him, wondering if anyone's ever told Cas how blue his eyes are.

"I like it" says Castiel, and when Dean Winchester gets up at the end of the day to walk for the bus, Castiel Novak walks with him. As they do every day from then on.

It's the first day of sixth grade and Castiel is sitting on the rock outside Dean's house, waiting for the school bus. Sammy left earlier with a wave to Castiel and a shove in the ribs to Dean, heading off for his first day of third grade and John Winchester had given Castiel a quick grin and a wave on his way out. It's just Dean and Cas now, waiting for the day to start.

"Dude" says Dean, pulling his baseball cap off. "Middle school is going to suck."

"That is not a positive attitude, Dean." Castiel is sketching in his rough book. His pencil moves across the notebook paper, his eyes glancing to Dean every now and then.

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, it's not a positive experience."

"I am sure my brothers' reports are greatly exaggerated."

Dean looks at his friend. Cas is bent over his sketch book and Dean reaches out, lifting his hair back from his eyes. "What are you drawing?"

This has been a common question ever since that first day in kindergarten. Cas is always drawing something, his pencil moving lightning fast across the pages, and his eyes utterly absorbed, a quick smile twitching at his lips every now and again, when Dean tries to interrupt him.

"I am drawing you" says Cas, those eyes focusing on Dean's again and his hand brushing the other boy's as he leans over to manoeuvre Dean back into place.

Dean blinks. "Me?"

"Yes." Castiel tilts his head to the side. "I'm trying to get the lighting right."

Dean knows Cas has drawn him before but he's rarely so open about it. "Getting it right?" he says, after a second.

"Almost" says Cas and he shoots Dean a quick smile. A quick, distracted smile. Dean wants to reach over and smooth the smile over Castiel's lips, make him smile harder.

He stops dead. Dude, how very gay was that thought?

But he doesn't have time to think about it because the next thing they know, the bus is pulling up and Castiel is ripping the page out of the notebook and standing up. "Hey" says Dean, his hand stretched out. "Don't do that."

Castiel shakes his head. "I'm not getting rid of it" he says, and he gives that smile again, the one with his head tilted to the side. "I'm giving it away."

And he holds it out to Dean.

Dean stares for a second, and then slips it into his pocket after a quick look. "Thanks, Cas" he says and for a second, wishes there was more to say-but he doesn't need to. Never has done, somehow, not with Cas. Dean doesn't know if it's because they've known each other so long or if it's just Cas's way.

They take seats near the front and Castiel swallows and stares out the window. His brother Gabriel whistles from the back of the bus and Dean turns to glare at him. "Kiss my ass, Gabe."

"That's my brother's job."

Castiel rolls his eyes but doesn't bother to look back. They're both used to Gabriel and at least, he leaps to their defence if anyone else decides to get involved.

"Hey" says Dean, spotting his friend's gaze resting on the window. "You OK?"

Castiel swallows and turns to stare at him. "Middle school" he says, those big blue eyes fixed on Dean's again. "I don't-I don't think it will turn out well for me."

Dean opens his mouth to argue but is struck by Cas's words. He has to admit, he doesn't know if middle school will turn out well for Cas. Cas is pretty-well, Cas. There aren't really words for it. He hangs out with Dean and sometimes with Dean's friends-Lisa and Cassie always let him sit at their table, and of course, Sammy always said hi back in elementary. Even Gabriel, one of the less dickish of Cas's brothers and Balthazar, an older cousin of Cas's, who gets on Dean's nerves, but at least always gives him and Cas a pat on the back, would pay attention to him. And Jo, who's a year younger than Sammy and always tags after him and stares at Dean with those big blue eyes, would always dance up to Cas and blink at him until he gave her an awkward smile back. Them, Castiel dealt pretty well with. But everyone else-Cas wasn't so good with everyone else.

"It's going to be OK" Dean tries to argue but fails. He hates when people say that.

"Cas" he says instead, and after a long second, the other boy turns to look at him. "I'll be there."

And he doesn't know why but he slides his hand into the other boy's for a second.

Castiel's eyes widen and Dean feels his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of the other boy's hand gripping his back, Castiel's fingers intertwined with his own. But as the bus starts to move off, they stay like that for another moment, fingers entwined and it starts a strange fizzing feeling in Dean's chest, his heart suddenly hammering faster.

Of course, they both pull back a second later because the last way they want to start middle school is being known as the homos on the bus. But the whole way there and right until they disembark, Dean can feel the ghost of Cas's hand on his, as if somewhere in time, their fingers are still interlinked, gripping together, as if they can hold each other up.

By the time they're in high school, Dean's discovered girls like him, which is cool. He also discovers that they like Cas, which isn't as cool, but it's OK because Cas doesn't seem to think so, either.

And Dean's got to admit, whenever he's making out with some girl behind the bowling alley or the cinema with the girl's hand creeping down his pants, it doesn't feel entirely right. It feels good-feels great, in fact-but there's often something missing, and he doesn't quite know what it is.

Then again, Dean's not one to spoil the moment so he never brings it up, or at least not right then, anyway. He waits until the date's over and then a few weeks later, he'll bring up the fact that they're not right for each other or some crap.

But Cas never gets involved in this stuff, no matter how many times Meg Masters sits next to him and lets her hand brush his arm. Castiel always stares in the opposite direction-often with his pencil moving fast over the paper.

Somehow, Dean's kind of glad about that but after a while, he starts thinking that it isn't that fair for Cas to be the only guy to not get any action in high school when there's clear interest, so despite the niggling feeling in his chest at the thought of Cas making out with some chick in a car, he brings it up to him.

"Dude." He elbows Castiel in the chest one day in the cafeteria. "Meg Masters is checking you out."

Castiel glances up rather uninterestedly across the table to see Meg Masters staring at him, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I am aware" he says, before returning his gaze to the sketchbook.

Dean rolls his eyes. "So" he says, elbowing Cas in the ribs. "You going to ask her out?"

"No." Castiel doesn't even hesitate and Dean fights down the sudden spike of pleasure in his chest. Still, that wasn't what the original aim was so he elbows Cas again. "Dude, seriously? Just no?"

Castiel's brow furrows. "Yes" he says, after a moment of staring at Dean with a politely confused expression. "Just no."

Dean nods. "OK" he says. "Any reason? She just not your type?"

Castiel raises his head and takes her in slowly. "She is attractive" he says. "But I do not particularly wish to pursue a relationship with her."

"Dude." Dean knows he's pushing it but that spike of pleasure's sharper this time and he's pushing that away because he doesn't want to think about that means. "Dude. What's your thing about going out with girls?"

Castiel stares at Dean again, his brows contracted. "I-don't understand" he says slowly.

Dean sighs. "Look, dude. Why don't you ever go out with anyone?"

Castiel looks remarkably uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his seat. "I-I have never considered-"

Dean feels a momentary stab of something-pleasure? glee?-that Cas hasn't wanted to go out with anyone. But at the same time, he kind of considers it his duty to step in and help the guy out. Cas cannot be the only guy who graduates high school a virgin.

"Look, dude-" He claps Castiel on the shoulder. "Just take her out for a night. She's hot. You don't have to marry her. You don't even have to-" He hesitates over the words, because come on, this is Cas, and Cas has this weird expression when he talks about sex, his eyes flickering from side to side, his teeth digging into his lip. Dean would call it adorable, except he thinks that might be taking the close friends thing way too far. "Do anything" he finishes lamely, instead. "Just take her out. To a movie or something. She'll say yes." And you might get some action is what he leaves unspoken.

Castiel still doesn't look convinced but he takes another glance at Dean's face and then back down at his sketchbook. "I suppose I could ask her."

"Cool." Dean jerks his head over at the table. "Just head over. She'll say yes."

Castiel bites his lip and Dean leans closer. "Dude, she's been checking you out for weeks. Of course she'll say yes."

Castiel swallows and then looks up at Dean, his eyes narrowed. "OK."

Dean watches as his friend heads over to the girls' table and gives him a double thumbs up when Cas looks back, those eyes flickering again. Freaking adorable. Dean blinks. What the hell? Why does he keep thinking of freaking Cas as adorable?

He doesn't watch while Cas does the actual asking out. Instead, just for something to do, he leans over and picks up Castiel's sketchbook, idly flicking through the pages.

His eyes come to rest on a drawing of him.

He knows Cas draws him of course-he's kind of used to it, after all these years, in fact-but it still sends a thrill of something through him to see the pencil lines on the page. Dean hasn't picked up a pencil since those days in kindergarten but it's still kind of cool to see himself as Cas sees him.

"I did it." Dean lets the sketchbook fall from his fingers, as Cas walks back to the table, sinking down next to him.

"Great. Where are you going?"

"To a movie." Castiel eyes him nervously, and then glances back over his shoulder to where Meg is whispering with her friends. Dean hears the occasional high-pitched giggle from that table as he looks back to Cas.

"That's great" and he tries to force himself to smile, given that this was his idea to begin with. His idea. Fantastic.

"I hope you know what you're doing" says Sammy that night, when Dean tells him where Cas is going.

"Course I know what I'm doing." Dean looks at his little brother, who's sitting staring at his homework, with that crease between his eyes that says he's thinking about something.

"It's just...it's Cas" says Sam, glancing up at Dean with a nervous expression, as if Dean might bite his head off.

"Yeah? So?" But Dean knows what Sam means. The idea of Cas out on a date-in that coat he always wears and with those nervous big blue eyes-something about it makes something twist painfully in Dean's chest and he's starting to regret bringing up the whole freaking idea.

Sam looks up from his homework and his eyes rest on Dean's. "You know what I mean."

Dean rolls his eyes and is about to respond when he notices the knowing look in Sam's eyes, and wonders if he really does know what Sam means. He spots that look other times, too-when he and Cas are leaning against each other watching a movie or whenever Sam catches Dean watching Cas while he draws. "What?" he demands, heading for the door, before Sam has a chance to answer and before Dean has a chance to remember describing Cas's eyes as adorable.

"Just hope you know-" Sammy's voice floats after him before Dean slams the door shut, heading out the door to borrow the Impala, drive for a while and get all these weird thoughts out of his head.

He can't concentrate all through his date with Lisa-even when they're making out in the back seat, thoughts keep creeping into Dean's head of Cas in his trench coat, hand in hand with Meg Masters at the movies. Maybe Dean could have chosen someone better for him. Meg Masters might be hot but her tongue's like a freaking flint. She could take Castiel to pieces.

Or what if it goes well? Dean had kind of been banking on the fact Cas would get a bit of action out of it, a few dates-the same way he'd set something up for Sammy if his little brother wasn't head over heels for this Sarah girl. But what if it's more serious? What if the two of them end up inseparable? What if Meg Masters ends up slumped all over Cas's freaking shoulders, yanking at his coat and making out with him-

Dean yanks his head back from Lisa, and he shakes his head, turning to stare out of the window. "Not in the mood" he mutters and when she asks why, even sliding her arms around his shoulders, he can't tell her. He reckons telling her he's distracted imagining his best friend making out with someone wouldn't go down well and eventually he just suggests they call it a night.

He's still mulling over the whole thing when he pulls into the driveway and his mood isn't helped by Sammy appearing the second he steps into the hallway.

"Dean-"

"Something else you think I should know?" mutters Dean, as he takes a step towards the stairs. Maybe he can go up there and collapse and avoid his father's questions and listen to Metallica and get all these stupid thoughts about Cas out of his mind.

"Dean, Cas called."

Dean whirls around. "What did he say?"

Sammy swallows. "He said could you go and pick him up?"

"What?" Dean feels something grip his insides, something cold and icy that makes his stomach turn over. "Where is he? How long ago?"

Sammy closes his eyes. "He said somewhere out in the movie theatre parking lot-about fifteen minutes ago? Dean, I'm pretty sure he's-"

But Dean's already out the door.

It takes him nearly twenty minutes to get to the movie theatre, cursing every driver who gets in his way and skipping several red lights. He tries to push away the image of Cas waiting for him, scared and alone, wondering where Dean is, why he isn't coming. He tries to push away the fact that Cas is pretty much the only person in the world, apart from his father, Bobby or maybe Sammy, that he would have left a date early for.

He almost falls out the car when he pulls into the parking lot and his eyes scan the area. "Cas?" he calls, praying for his friend's voice to sound out of the near-darkness that's fallen. "Cas!"

There's no answer. Dean spins around, hands flying to his head, as he feels his brain come alive in a whirl of panic. That image is back behind his eyes-Cas alone, curled up in that stupid coat-did he wear that? Did Dean even give him advice on what to wear on a date, what the hell, how could he have forgotten-and he yells again "CAS!"

It takes a second of silence and he calls again-"CAS!"

And then a second later, a thin voice coming out of the shadows, small, hesitant. "Dean?"

Dean feels his stomach plunge in relief, relief so great it leaves his limbs shaking and he has to hold onto the back of the car for a moment, almost unable to stand. "Cas?" he calls again. "Where are you?"

"I'm over here, Dean."

Dean makes his way towards the voice, occasionally calling out again to ascertain the correct direction. It doesn't take long before he makes his way into the shadows and he sees Cas sitting on the bonnet of his own car, sketchbook in hand, head bent over a drawing.

"Cas." Dean's never felt this relieved, never, apart from that time Sammy fell out of the tree and the doctor came out to tell him that he'd woken up. Cas had been with him then, too, and had slipped his hand into Dean's, as they waited in those hard backed chairs, with the smell of disinfectant all around them, his fingers closing around Dean's, a silent whisper of comfort between the two.

"Cas-man, what happened?" Dean's already taking a seat next to Cas, his hand stretching out to touch Cas's arm. Castiel looks down at Dean's fingers and Dean's about to pull away when Cas covers his hand with his own and attempts a small smile.

"I wanted your company on the way home" he says simply. "I felt rather out of sorts."

Dean blinks. "OK, what happened?"

"The movie was fine" says Cas quietly-he is draped in the coat and somehow Dean's kind of relieved to see that. "She tried holding my hand halfway through."

Hell. Dean exhales slowly. Cas looks up at him. "No, that was fine" he says, after a moment. "I didn't mind that."

"Oh." Dean wonders why he doesn't feel more relieved by this. "Well-"

He's spared finishing the sentence by Castiel's explanation. "She tried to kiss me" he says, with a sigh. "And it wasn't right."

Dean blinks, ignoring the sudden flame of happiness inside his chest. "What do you mean, it wasn't right?"

Castiel shrugs. "I didn't want her to kiss me" he says, still focused intently on his drawing. "I knew it just didn't feel right. So I stepped back. And she slapped me." He turns his face towards Dean. "I believe she left a small mark" he says, as if that's in any way normal.

"What? Let me see." Dean leans round to see a tiny scratch on Cas's cheek where Meg Master's finger has obviously caught him. He feels a sudden wave of anger and when Castiel looks away, his shoulders hunched meekly inside his trench coat, he has to sit on his hands to stop himself from sliding his arms around Cas's shoulders.

"I suppose I did it wrong" says Castiel, turning back to his sketchbook. "Evidently, my dating skills are rusty."

Dean shakes his head. "No, Cas. You didn't-" He has to grit his teeth and look in the opposite direction. "It wasn't your fault." And he means it. It's not Cas's fault if Meg Masters can't stop herself punching people. Or slapping them when they don't kiss her back. Freaking bitch. Dean kind of wants to murder her but he's distracted by the puppy-dog look Cas is giving him. That kind of look should be illegal.

"Cas-" and one of his arms has somehow got free and is slipping around the other boy's shoulder. "She's a waste of freaking time. It's my fault" and it was. "I shouldn't have made you do it. It was stupid. It was a waste of time. I messed you up-"

"You didn't" says Cas and he shoots Dean another smile. "I know you were trying to help me. And it was going well up until the moment when she slapped me. I presume that doesn't usually occur halfway through a date."

Dean looks at Cas and breaks into laughter. Part of him wants to just hug Cas, grab him and hug him close for hours, and tell him how freaking adorably sweet he can be at times, and another part wants to just lean his head against his and ask what he's drawing. He goes with the second part.

"What are you drawing?" he asks and he nestles his head against the other boy's. He's glad Cas wore that coat now-it smells like Cas, that sweet smell Dean's always associated with his friend. He lets his hand brush Cas's and the next thing he knows, his fingers are being gripped hard.

"What were you doing when I called?" Cas asks instead of answering, and Dean swallows. "Just got in from a date" he says. "Call came while I was out."

Castiel stiffens beside him. "My apologies. I didn't intend to ruin your evening."

"You didn't." Dean resists the temptation to tell him that he wasn't having much of an evening anyway. "I wanted to see how you were." He figures it might be safe to ask the question again. "So what are you drawing?"

Castiel squirms for a second inside his jacket. "Here. I was just-" It takes a moment for Castiel to hand the sketchbook over.

Dean takes the book and lets his eyes skim over the pages. "Wow" he mutters, after a few seconds of silent looking. He takes a glance at Cas who is staring determinedly in the opposite direction. "Cas, this is...awesome." Dean kind of wishes he could think of a better descriptive word than awesome, but what the hell, it's just Cas.

The picture's of him, slumped against the bonnet of the Impala. He's leaning back, staring up at the sky. But he's not smiling. There's a certain solemnity to the expression, a compressed line at his lips and Dean realises Cas has captured him, the way only he, Castiel, sees him.

"Jeez, Cas" he says and turns to look at his friend who is staring steadfastly in the opposite direction.

"It's freaking brilliant" and he hands the book back. Cas takes a moment to look up, his own eyes narrowing, head tilting to the side. "You really think so?"

Dean inhales sharply. "Think so? It's freaking amazing."

A smile twitches at Castiel's mouth. "I'm thinking of going to art school" he says and he stares in the opposite direction again, the way he always does when he's telling Dean something he's afraid his friend might not want to hear.

"That's great, Cas" and Dean means it. He doesn't care what it does to him if Cas goes away, doesn't care if he stays here his whole life-Cas should have what he wants. This is freaking Cas.

"You mean that?" Castiel looks at him again, those eyes brightening a little and God, Dean knows this is weird and everything else but it really is adorably cute.

Cute. Did Dean Winchester really just think the word cute?

"Yeah." Dean leans his head against Castiel's before he can think twice. He's already thinking the whole "cute" thing, might as well go the whole way. He blinks. Not like that.

He definitely shouldn't be thinking like that.

Castiel leans his head against Dean's. "Dean."

"Yeah?"

"It may sound strange to you but I am pleased things went wrong tonight." Castiel has a smile in his voice.

Dean glances at him, amused. "Why's that, Cas?"

Castiel looks at him and that smile is back. "I enjoy spending time with you."

Dean has no answer, so he slides a hand across and tugs on the sleeve of Castiel's coat. The other boy slides nearer until their foreheads are touching and for a second Dean's gaze flickers to Castiel's lips. Those big blue eyes widen a little and for a second, Dean's short of breath.

Then, they both look away. They don't move. Instead, they simply lean against each other and for a moment, Dean stares up at the sky, with Castiel nestled against him and neither of them say anything when Castiel's head falls onto Dean's shoulder.

They don't try setting Cas up on any more dates and Dean breaks up with Lisa pretty soon afterwards. Just can't concentrate for some reason. He tries other girls but it's not working properly. He can be in there, making all the right moves, saying all the right things, but somehow, it just doesn't work out right. Well, it does for them, but not for him. Something's just not there.

He even tries it with Cassie-going out-and he likes her-like, really likes her, aside from when he's got his hands under her shirt, or they're lying back in the Impala. They can hang out and chat, and she's the first girl he ends up in bed with and when they're lying there afterwards, he thinks for a while that maybe he's figured it out, maybe this is it, he just had to meet the right girl. Maybe this is what he needed.

But then it isn't. He can't explain how. It just isn't and after a few months, they break it off, not least because Cassie's planning to go to college on the other side of the country. "I'm a realist" she says, but she has a hand on Dean's arm as she says it. And they're still friends, like with Lisa, which is good, because Dean could do without wrecking the whole group while he's at it.

And then there's Cas. Cas is still drawing girls' eyes. Still not looking back. Still scribbling away. And he's with Dean, a lot.

As in, a lot. At night, when he's not actually there, but he might as well be, how much Dean thinks about him. As in, dreams about him. About the eyes and the coat and Dean's really starting to regret those locker rooms where he's seen more of Cas than he ever wanted to.

Or maybe he did want to.

And he can't do anything about the other dreams, where his mind's taking him to places his mind should definitely not be taking him, involving his best friend. And he might keep those thoughts out of his head when he's awake-OK, most of the time when he's awake-but he keeps waking up with sheets that he has to stuff into the washer before Sammy or his father sees, and blue eyes dancing before his.

Basically, it's screwed up.

And it's Sammy who mentions it of course, and doesn't that just send everything to hell.

"Where are you going?" asks Sammy, still bent over homework. (Does the kid ever do anything else?)

"Cas" says Dean because he can't seem to stay away from the guy and he prefers not to think about why that is.

A small sound comes from Sam's throat-a titter or a snort or something and Dean turns back, marching over until he's standing over him. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"What?" Sammy looks up with that innocent expression. Dean's not making the sound for him.

"Oh, come on" says his younger brother after a moment of silence. "It's you and Cas."

"What about me and Cas?" Dean's choosing to ignore the strange thrill that goes through him when Sam says their names together like that.

Sam shrugs and glances back at his work. "Nothing, just-" A smirk twitches at his mouth. "Sometimes-"

"What, Sammy?" says Dean, that growl low in his throat. One more word and he'll start giving his little brother a hard time about the way he sometimes catches Sammy staring at Gabriel whenever Cas's brother winks at him or ruffles his hair.

Sammy just shakes his head and turns back to his work. Another time, Dean would push the point but right now, he's going to be late. And he doesn't want to freak Cas out.

He's almost at the door when he hears Sammy's voice again. "You say his name in your sleep."

Dean freezes where he is. No freaking way does Sammy hear what Dean says in his sleep. No freaking way.

He's not about to turn and argue the point, though. Instead, he makes sure to slam the door shut as loudly as possible to drown out the sound of Sam's laughter.

When he finds Cas sitting at the bottom of his garden, staring into the trees with that damn pencil moving again, Dean takes a moment to watch him before he sits down beside him. He tries to push away the image of Gabriel's face-"Cassy's in the back" and a punch in Dean's arm, with "Shall I tell him his boyfriend's here?"-and of the pinched lips and rolled eyes of Michael, who had stepped aside to let Dean pass into the garden.

But Cas is staring off into the distance, and Dean's eyes rest on the other boy's coat, the long sleeves dangling, and his hand clenched around that pen, until Dean touches his arm. "Hey."

Castiel jumps and then turns around to stare at him. "Dean." He inclines his head and then turns back to his sketchbook, that smile playing around his lips, the one that's always there when he sees Dean.

"What're you drawing?" Dean tries to lean closer but Castiel covers the page with one hand and Dean's hand covers that, so for a minute they're kind of holding hands if you want to get technical.

Castiel's lips part and Dean takes them in, soft and open in the moonlight. He takes in Castiel's skin under his, which is still there-why isn't he moving away, anyway-and those big blue eyes. Big blue eyes that are fixed on his right now.

Slowly, tremulously, Castiel slides his hand away and shows Dean his picture. It's of him, again-and from anyone else, Dean would find that freaky as hell, but not with Cas-and it's just Dean, sitting on the car again. But he's staring up into the sky and Dean recognizes it as that night in the movie theatre parking lot.

"I haven't finished it yet" says Castiel and he pulls it back-carefully, though and his fingers brush Dean's as he does so.

"Well, it's good." Dean can't think of anything else to say.

How the hell can he not think of anything else to say? This is Cas. And yet he can't say anything.

But he can hear and so when he hears Gabriel's wolf whistle from the back of the house and then Anna's hushed reproval, he turns and glowers over his shoulder. Castiel shakes his head. "Just ignore it, Dean."

Dean looks at Cas, and wonders if he even knows what his brother's implying.

"I don't care" says Castiel quietly and Dean blinks, because holy shit, did Cas just read his mind?

No. Nah, no way, just a coincidence, it has to be.

This would be the moment, though. In movies, this would be the moment when Dean reaches across and pulls Castiel into him, pulls their mouths together. In movies, this is where the curtain falls.

But this isn't a movie and Dean doesn't have a damn clue what to do and this is Cas, his best friend, and so he just leaves it there. Though he keeps his hand over Cas's for another second before he lets go.

And then he just sits and watches him draw.

It's six months later that Cas comes to Dean and Sam's front door and tells them he's been accepted to art college.

Dean's jaw drops open-seriously, he thought that only happened on TV-and it takes him a second to even grin. Sammy reacts better, clapping Cas on the back and telling him he always knew he'd do well, it'll be great, and everything else and Dean tries to force a smile back to his lips but all he can think is that Cas won't be here. Cas. Not here. For the first time since they were five and they'd walk home from kindergarten together, Dean always running ahead, nearly getting hit by car after car, and Castiel remaining quietly behind him with his low "I'm not sure this is wise, Dean" and his hand grabbing in Dean's sleeve whenever Dean's about to go too far.

"Dean?" and then Cas is looking at him, smile wavering slightly, that head-tilt of confusion making a reappearance as he stares, as if Dean might be about to tell him that no, he can't go, or ask him not to go.

Dean takes a deep breath-because he should not be feeling this shaky, dammit-and forces a smile. It feels like he's forcing a tightrope walker to stay on the rope when, deep down, they just want to fall.

"Cool, Cas" he says. "Really cool." And he claps Cas on the shoulder, wrapping his arms around him and tries to ignore the feeling of Cas leaning against him and imagining his mouth buried in the crook of Cas's neck. And tries not to imagine what the next years are going to be like without him.

Graduation passes and it's seriously too fast, with Sammy and Sarah standing hand in hand, with big matching grins and Jo grinning and cuffing them both on the arm and even Cassie and Lisa giving Dean and Cas hugs and telling them how proud they are-Uncle Bobby turning up and giving Dean a clap on the shoulder- and there's photos and prom and Dean and Cas both go stag and spend most of the night whirling each other around while Cas does the awkward foot shuffle that counts as dancing for him, with that weird kid Chuck from the year below, dancing around them with a camera, getting photos for the yearbook-and then there's the summer and each day is a chance to tell him. And each day is a chance that slips away and Dean tries to push away the feeling that this is something dark moving under his skin, that each day he doesn't ask is a day he's going to regret. He tries to ignore that idea.

But there are times when he's sitting there with Cas under the trees, watching the sun sink out of sight in the distance when Cas leans against him or gives him that smile with those big blue eyes, that he thinks maybe now's the time. Maybe now's the moment that he'll turn and tell Cas and Cas will be shocked for a moment with his mouth falling open and the words getting fumbled the way they always do when Cas freaks out and then there'll be "I do not understand that" and explanations but eventually-eventually-it'll be Cas's mouth on his and Cas kissing him back. Of course it will. If he just tells Cas now. Now.

But then Cas turns away and mentions something else and even though he could reach out and grab the moment back, he never does. Never quite reaches for it. There's always more time, he tells himself, even as he feels it slipping away.

And then Cas is leaving and he still hasn't told him.

Cas is looking at him and about to get into the car and suddenly Dean wants the summer back. He wonders how the hell he didn't realise how good those times were when he still had them, those summers with the trees at their backs and the sunset filtering through the leaves and Cas just leaning against him and the way things were. The last summer of the way things were.

Cas watches him and stands an inch away. "I suppose I'll see you, Dean" and the whole thing is oddly formal, and Dean remembers way back in seventh grade, Cas standing an inch away from him and him turning round with a roll of the eyes. "Come on, Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?" And the other boy blinking for a moment before stepping back with a muted "My apologies."

And now Dean and Cas are standing there, staring at each other and it takes a second before Dean thinks Personal space, dammit and steps forward, throwing his arms around Cas's shoulders. It's only a second of holding him but it's enough to make Dean's head spin and feel Cas's heart beating against his and why the hell didn't he say it?

And then they're apart and Cas is saying "I expect I'll see you soon, Dean. Do not worry about me." And Dean is shaking his head and saying "Look after yourself, Cas" and Sammy's talking about phone numbers and Gabriel's bellowing over from the car for Cassy to get his ass over here now and Anna's smacking her brother in the arm-

And then Castiel is getting into the car and Dean opens his mouth to say one last thing, one last moment for Cas to take with him but the words won't rise to his lips. And then the car's driving away and Castiel's raising his hand with that sketchbook in and it dawns on Dean he didn't even ask about what he'd been drawing recently. And he opens his mouth but with Cas waving from the back window, the car is already moving away, reaching the end of the road-

And then it's round the corner and it's gone, and Cas is gone.

Dean stands there for a moment in silence, barely aware of Sammy's hand clapping him on the arm, offering him a beer. He reaches out and takes the cold bottle in silence, barely blinking at the drips of condensation falling onto his hands. He lifts the beer to his mouth and takes a gulp and tells himself that everything's just fine.

The next few months go by slower than school ever did.

Cas calls every other day and Dean's always sitting by the phone for the first few weeks. Time seems to drag slowly the closer he gets and by the time the phone finally rings, Dean's usually already diving for it.

Cas seems to be doing well. He seems to be happy. The second Dean hears that voice like gravel in his ears, he seems to go limp for a second and his mind's always filled with relief, bright and sharp, so that it's a few seconds before he can even focus on what Cas is saying.

And Cas is usually excited, chattering about the studio Anna's had built for him outside the house at home so that he can focus on his art when he's back for vacation, asking how Dean is-Dean tells him it's going fine, and it is, he's learning to be a mechanic, which is all he's ever thought about doing, he can't complain, and he thinks of Cas all the time. Which he doesn't tell his friend.

"I...miss you, Dean" says Castiel awkwardly a few times and Dean always mutters "Yeah, miss you too" back without ever telling Cas how much.

Or about the dreams. They're still there. He's getting tired of washing those sheets.

"You should just tell him" says Sam one night and Dean pretends not to hear.

He and Anna keep hanging out-he calls her sometimes. She's always got time to welcome someone in, to give them cookies, to talk about Cas. Dean starts stopping by more and more often and she's always waiting, sometimes working on community college work while he eats. And it feels right, him sitting there at the table while she works nearby. Feels like this could be a thing and one day he leans over and kisses her. And he tries not to think of big blue eyes while he does it.

And it goes on like that for a bit. And sure, it's kind of empty. He's not in love with Anna. She's not in love with him. But they both know it. And Cas is still there at night, and Dean's starting to see those blue eyes all the time.

And then it's nearly Christmas and things are getting kind of out of hand. One day, when Dean's lying on Anna's bed, she sits up and she looks at him.

"You're not here, are you?" she says and Dean stares at her, wondering if she's flipped.

He's about to say so when she says "No, that was stupid. I mean, it's not me you want, is it?"

He opens and closes his mouth but all that comes out is "Anna-"

"I'm not blind, Dean" she says, pushing him gently back down, one hand over his heart. "And neither is anyone else."

Dean's already opening his mouth again to launch into his what the hell are you talking about speech but Anna shakes her head and places her hand on his chest. "Don't talk" she says and she presses her lips to his cheek too gently. "Just think about it, OK?"

They stop doing whatever the hell they're doing and Dean wonders just what the hell he's meant to do now. He's not mentioning it to anyone, let alone Sammy. No freaking way is he looking at that smug expression that'll curl over his younger brother's face, the same way it does whenever Sammy spots Dean staring at Cas's sketches or holding a slice of pie to Cas's mouth. He still remembers the crumbs at the edge of Cas's lips, the way Dean's thumb had lingered at the edge of his mouth wiping away a smear of jam.

And then Castiel phones and asks Dean to come and pick him up from college. And Dean, with the phone to his ear and those eyes spinning in his brain, says yes.

It's weird, driving up there. He tries humming to Metallica but nothing, freaking nothing, can take his mind off the idea that this is the first time he's spoken to Cas since September. Cas was busy over Thanksgiving-in the past, he always came over to theirs, sat in front of the fire with Dean and Sammy and John carving meat onto all their plates with Bobby laughing because all of them hated sitting at the dining table...

And this is the first year they haven't done any of that.

So, Dean's kind of nervous when he pulls up to the college campus, partly because he knows there was never any hope of him going somewhere like this.

It takes him a few tries to find where Cas might be; he'd kind of expected him to be waiting. He asks around a bit and it takes a few tries before someone points him toward one of the art rooms that Castiel is known to frequent. He notices people grin when he mentions Cas's name and not the way they did back in high school; these grins are people who seem to know him, mention something he does, never takes off that coat, does he or seem to hold him in some kind of awe brilliant, isn't he. And they all call him Cas, too and Dean isn't sure whether that makes him more or less comfortable here.

It takes him a few glances into rooms before he finds the right one and eventually he leans on a door automatically, not really expecting to find Cas inside. And of course, the first thing he sees is the trench coat.

He opens his mouth but Cas hasn't turned round. At all. He's staring at an easel, daubing something in paint and Dean steps into the room as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his friend and lead to the thing being ruined. Instead, he stands there, still as the dead, and just lets himself watch his friend for the first time in four months.

Castiel looks like Castiel-kind of weirdly obvious, but somehow Dean had expected him to look different, thinner, older. But he can catch a glimpse of Castiel's face in profile here, and it's the same as it always was-maybe a little thinner but not much. The same dark hair, those lips in that pout that always forms when Cas is concentrating, forming something out of nothing. Dean's fingers want to be running over those lips. He tries to tell them they can't but they don't want to listen and they're tingling with how badly they want to be lifted and stroked over skin.

And of course, there's the eyes. He's only getting a glimpse of them under the lashes but the big blue eyes. Dean hasn't seen those eyes in four months. And suddenly, there's that rush of heat in his groin and fuck, this can't happen here, Cas-

He shakes his head and waits until Cas has moved his hand far away from the easel, stepping back to admire his work, and then says quietly "Cas."

Cas spins round but the paint doesn't fly everywhere. His mouth falls open and he stares, and those eyes are big enough for Dean to fall into. The other boy carefully puts the paintbrushes down and then takes a step forward.

"Dean" and his voice is barely a whisper. Dean means to keep his distance because the whole tented jeans thing is going to be hard as hell-hilarious-to keep hidden when he's near Cas but then the other boy's coming near and Dean couldn't turn and run the other way if Cas was a burning flame.

His arms go around Cas's shoulders first and then all he knows is the trench coat and Cas's hair and his skin and he presses his face into his neck because seriously, how the hell did he go without Cas for this long?

"Dean" and Cas pulls his face back. "Dean, I-" And then he runs his thumb from Dean's eyebrow to his chin in one touch.

The feeling's like fire and Dean lets his eyes fall closed. "Cas" he says when he can speak again and this can't be happening right now, Cas, Cas, we've got to-Cas-

Castiel is still staring at him and his head is tilted to the side again. "Dean" he says, and Dean's eyes skim over his shoulder and catches the portrait again. He stares. Just stares.

It's him and Cas.

It's them sitting on the car again-he remembers the day Cas has painted, when Sammy had run off from bothering them and Gabriel had dropped Cas off with a "See you later, Cassy" and a ruffle to the hair-and Dean and Cas had just sat there and laughed. It hadn't been anything particularly extraordinary that day and maybe that was what had made Cas remember it.

"Holy shit, Cas" and Dean looks back at his friend. "Forgotten how good you were."

Castiel nods. "I will take that as a compliment" he says, voice as low as ever, and the tip of Dean's finger strokes Castiel's mouth before he can stop himself. For the first time, his eyes flicker down and he realises that under the trench coat, Castiel is wearing an art smock. It's stained with paint and it smells good, like Cas and God, Dean wants to drag him closer-

"Dean" says Castiel and when Dean raises his gaze to Cas's, the other boy's eyes are burning. Bright, burning blue.

And Dean's hands slide into Castiel's hair and he tilts his head and he realises a second before it happens that it's too late to stop and then his mouth is against Castiel's and his lips are hot and soft and Dean can feel the faint bristle against his skin and Castiel's hands are brushing his neck and his thumb strokes quickly under Dean's ear and God, Cas-

They break apart and Dean's gasping for breath and Castiel's eyes are inches from his and they're blazing now, and Castiel's staring at him and Dean can't read his expression at all.

"Cas?" he says because that's all he can think of and he's still holding him, his hands on his shoulders and Cas blinks, as if Dean's words have brought him back to earth.

"Cas?" and Dean's never sounded this uncertain with a girl. "What are you thinking?"

Castiel lowers his gaze to the ground and appears to be genuinely considering the question. "I-" And he clears his throat, tracing a pattern with his shoe on the ground. "I think-" and Dean closes his eyes and braces himself, his hands curling into fists around the material of Cas's coat-

Castiel raises his eyes to Dean's. "I think I would like to do that again."

Dean blinks for a second, sure he's misheard. But there's a small smile tugging at the corner of Castiel's mouth and Dean mutters something he's not sure about like Thank God or Cas and then he steps forward and somehow their mouths crash together and it's even better this time, his tongue finding Castiel's more easily than he expected and the little gasp that the other boy lets out might be the best thing Dean's ever felt in his life.

His fingers are grinding themselves back into Castiel's hair and he drags Cas against him for a moment and his teeth nibble at Castiel's lips and Castiel makes a wild sound in the back of his throat and Dean just kisses him harder and he doesn't pull away until he's light-headed from lack of air.

This time, Cas's lips are enticingly swollen and tinged red and the sight just makes Dean want to kiss him all over again but he holds back and just stares at him instead. Those big blue eyes, blinking at Dean now, uncertainly.

"Merry Christmas" is what comes out of Dean's mouth and seriously, what the hell, but Cas's mouth twitches in a smile and he pulls Dean back into another kiss, a quick gentle kiss, their lips softening against one another, as if they're getting used to each other's mouths.

They stay like that for a while, their arms around each other's shoulders, Cas's head nestled against Dean's shoulder and the room is full of the sound of their breaths and the heat of Cas's arms around him and Cas's skin around his lips and the faint scent of paint in both of their hair.

They don't make it more than halfway home before Dean pulls the car over to the side of the road, and grabs Cas, dragging their mouths together.

He expects Cas to pull away after a moment, to move backwards, to say they have to wait until they get home, but Cas's mouth opens, hot and hungry against his, his hands tightening in Dean's hair and then half-clambers into Dean's lap. He presses against him and God, this is going to kill him, and his hands braid themselves into Castiel's hair, his tongue dancing across the other boy's lips.

A whimper breaks from Castiel's throat, high and desperate, and he presses himself against Dean, his fingers tight on the seat. Dean's teeth nip at Castiel's skin and that strangled sound comes again and Dean's eyes close, bursts of light behind his eyelids as his body shudders. He can feel the heat building and twisting in his body and his fingers grind into Castiel's shirt as his name becomes a moan in his throat.

"Cas-"

Castiel's moaning and gasping and God, it's getting Dean closer and closer, and his eyes open to focus on Castiel's. Cas has his eyes shut and his lips are moving silently, as if he's beyond words, desperate sounds coming from his throat.

And then Cas's eyes open, locking with Dean's in a gaze that takes away Dean's breath and sends an electric current through his body. He feels his body suddenly tense, shudder and keeps his eyes on Cas's as he feels the other boy's body spasm in his arms.

Cas's name spills in a low moan from Dean's lips as he crumbles, gasping as he falls. His hips keep moving, bruising Castiel's, and Castiel's eyes grow wider and wider, his face flushing scarlet, his knuckles becoming whiter, a soft whimper breaking from his throat.

Dean's hand slides down Cas's jeans and his fingers curl gently-even as he feels the aftermath of the heat soaking through his body, he lets his eyes find Cas's and keeps moving his hand, feels the sharp twitch as he takes him closer.

It's a second of held breath and eyes watching before Cas breaks. His body gives one spasm and then he crumples, his head pushed into Dean's shoulder, gasping with pleasure, a series of squeaks coming from his throat, his whole body trembling, Dean's hands moving until Castiel collapses into him, his head nestling against Dean's.

It takes a long moment before Castiel lifts his head to speak. "Dean-" The word breaks on his lips. He's staring at Dean, his eyes wide, his skin damp to the touch.

Dean presses his lips to his forehead. "Don't speak" he says, and they're the only words he can summon.

Cas nestles his head against Dean's chest. "Dean" he says again, as if it doesn't matter because that's all he wanted to say.

Christmas break is interesting, to say the least.

They spend half of it lying in bed, curled up around one another when Dean can keep everyone else out of his room and make up an excuse that he and Cas are just making up for lost time, which explains why they're lying on the couch with Cas's head against his shoulder and why Cas's hand slips into his in the movie theater. Sometimes, they spot Meg Masters around town and she always just arches an eyebrow and then turns away whenever Cas slides his fingers more firmly into Dean's.

No-one really seems that surprised, now Dean comes to think of it.

When Dean finally tells Sammy and Dad, they're all sitting around the table two days after Christmas and Cas is next to him. He laces his fingers in between Cas's under the table, takes a deep breath, then tells them.

He keeps his eyes on his father-he knows Sammy will be all right with it, knows Sammy has been basically rooting for it since he was eleven in the first place-but it's his father he's worried about. John Winchester's the first to say he treats everyone the same, regardless of whether they're gay, straight, or something in between but Dean's always wondered if that would really apply when it came to his own sons.

John Winchester leans back from the table and stares at them both for a moment. Dean can't read the expression on his face.

Then he sighs, shrugs and says "Was wondering how long it'd take for you two to realise."

Sammy's face breaks into a broad grin and Dean glares at him. "Shut up" he mutters before he notices the smile dancing at Castiel's lips and the small smirk tugging at his father's own mouth and he slides his arm around Cas's shoulders and pulls him closer.

Telling Cas's family is a little more complicated.

His dad stays in his study most of the time-Dean barely even has a clue what the guy looks like after all these years-but apparently he's fine with it. Anna shakes her head and tells them both that she knew all along. Gabriel just cackles and asks them to send him pictures and Castiel gives him a look that Dean's pretty sure would burn holes in the wall. Even Michael shakes his head and rolls his eyes but basically ignores the whole thing. Uriel nods and gives them a very formal "Congratualtions" and Raphael just nods before taking Dean aside and warning him that should he harm Castiel then Raphael may have to undertake actions he would regret. Dean's still registering this when Lucifer raises his eyebrow and wishes them a vague "Good luck with that." Zachariah just sort of curls his lip and gives Dean this look and Dean suspects it's not so much the whole gay thing as it is the fact that old Zach doesn't think Dean's good enough for his baby brother.

Dean figures he's never realised quite how annoying Castiel's extremely large family are before.

But Dean just takes Cas's hand in his and squeezes.

It's a while before they try it-they've got pretty close to it before, but something's always stopped them, generally the excuse that they're only one wall away from Sam-but one night Sam's out with Sarah and Castiel can stay over and John's going out and everything just seems to be lined up right.

And he and Cas drag each other into Dean's bedroom and fall down and they're pressed so tight Dean can't tell where he ends and Cas begins and that's more than fine with him.

It's not like it is in movies-it's messy and awkward and they both burst out laughing a few times-but when they're into it and Cas is moaning his name and Dean's got his mouth pressed on his skin and God, Cas tastes so desperate and hot and good, Dean thinks he wouldn't exchange it for anything.

And when they're both done, and they're lying curled around one another, Castiel's head pillowed on Dean's arm, with those eyes staring at him, still dazed, Dean feels the words crawl over his lips. "Love you, Cas."

Castiel blinks at him with those big blue eyes and then whispers "I love you, Dean."

And it's as close to perfect as it could have been or at least that's what Dean thinks at the time.

The next few months are mainly frantic attempts to see each other, with Dean driving up to Cas's college every weekend either to drive him home or to spend the night there, with their hands on each other's skin and their eyes closed. It gets better each time.

When it gets near summer, Dean lies against Cas and tells him how great it'll be to be together every night. Castiel opens his mouth and then closes it again.

Dean props himself up on one elbow and keeps his eyes on Castiel's because he's always known when Cas is hiding something, always and that's one thing that can't change.

"What is it, Cas?" He traces his fingers up Cas's arm.

Castiel's mouth opens and closes. "Dean-"

Dean forces himself to smile, even as his heart sinks. "You don't have to stay every night" he says, even as he feels a crushing wave of disappointment at the thought of wasting twelve hours with Cas. "I was kidding."

"No, Dean-" Castiel's eyes blaze brighter at that. "I want to. It's just that-I had an idea."

"What kind of idea?" Dean traces Castiel's arm again, intrigued by the way Castiel's eyes are flickering away, his teeth digging into his lip.

"There is an apartment nearby" Castiel says haltingly, his eyes glancing to Dean's and then away again. "It's good, one-bedroom, it's clean-I was just wondering-I mean, if you don't want to-"

Dean frowns, because his brain's already working two steps ahead and he can see where Cas is going with this suggestion. "You mean-live together, right?"

Castiel bites his lip and looks away. "I mean, it's understandable if you don't want to-"

Dean gives Cas his answer by seizing his hands in his hair and dragging him in for another kiss.

They move in together a few weeks into the summer vacation, with John, Bobby and Sammy helping them move the furniture in and a couple of Castiel's brothers popping up every now and again to help, Michael giving Castiel instructions on how to reach him if he ever needs help and Anna sending them food and telling them to always, always come by if there's a problem while Gabriel stands by the bed, arches an eyebrow and remarks, with a swagger, "Good luck with not breaking it." Castiel glares at him, his cheeks crimson, while Sam also, surprisingly, flushes and stares in the opposite direction. Dean takes a long look at his little brother but decides to say nothing-he knows Sam and Sarah broke up recently, with Sam giving him the excuse that "it was just the right time."

And when everyone goes home at the end of the day and they're left alone, Dean and Cas are together in their own apartment. Their apartment.

Of course, they barely make it five seconds before they start checking out the bedroom but they appreciate the rest of it.

The next few months are great. Obviously, they're not perfect-Dean still comes home tired from a job at the mechanic's and Castiel hates relying on his family for financial assistance but Dean won't hear of him getting a job-"You need to focus on your art" he says, playing with Cas's hair. "Otherwise, who's going to be getting me into all the fancy New York galleries, huh?"-but they're happy. And sometimes, Cas comes back from school tired, his eyes drained from the hours he's spent working on a painting and he likes to just huddle against Dean, his head nestled against his chest, but Dean doesn't mind. And most of the time, it's good.

Castiel buys an art smock at Dean's insistence-"You can't mess up the coat, Cas, it's part of you"-and one of Dean's favourite sights is Castiel wearing that thing in the corner of their living room or in one of the college art studios when Dean walks in to get him, paint smeared down the front of it and a paint brush clutched between those fingers. Whenever Cas turns to face him in that art smock, those wide eyes, sometimes wearing some torn sweater the two of them will have dragged out of the lost and found so Cas won't mess up his clothes, Dean sometimes likes to just stand still and take him in. Because there's no way, sometimes, he thinks, that Cas can be his, actually his.

Not everything's great, though.

"There's something weird about her" Dean mutters as he drives the Impala-John handed it over on Dean's twentieth birthday, with a wink and a "It's been waiting for you"- back to their apartment, Cas in the passenger seat watching him with that confused tilt of the head, eyes on Dean's face.

"What is weird about her, Dean?" Castiel glances back as though Sam might be sitting in the backseat, eavesdropping on their opinion of his new girlfriend.

"That Ruby chick's got something up with her-" Dean shakes his head, taking another glance at Cas. "Didn't you get it?"

Castiel raises and drops his shoulders in a shrug. "Perhaps Sam sees something we don't" he suggests, after a moment.

Dean snorts and glares at the road. Just something about that chick, the way her eyes had hesitated on Dean's, that curl to her lip as she took his hand, had got right under Dean's skin. He could tell his father wasn't overly-impressed either-he was polite enough but John and Dean's eyes had flickered to each other and away, each reading the same expression in the other's eyes.

Castiel sighs and glances out of the window and Dean rolls his eyes. "What is it, Cas?"

Castiel glances at him and swallows. "Is it possible that this is merely your protectiveness of Sam displaying itself?"

Dean turns to stare at him and narrowly misses swerving off the road. "What?"

Castiel shrugs and turns to look at him. "Isn't it possible that you're simply being protective of Sam?"

Dean shrugs himself. "Maybe. There's still something weird about her. And Sam's weird around her too." He couldn't get rid of the way his little brother's eyes had followed Ruby around the room, that weird connection between them. At first, he'd thought that Sam would be pulling the whole "in-love" stuff but he wasn't, it wasn't that. It was something else, and it niggled at Dean's brain.

"Maybe you should give it a while" suggests Castiel and Dean rolls his eyes because how can no one be getting that this could mess Sammy up and it's Dean's job to-

Castiel's hand covers Dean's wrist. "Dean" and it's the sound of his voice, low and serious in his throat that brings Dean's eyes up to meet his. Castiel's watching him, head tilted to the side, eyes big and blue and very serious. "Just relax."

Dean hasn't realised up until now how tense he is, his shoulders tight over the wheel but when Cas starts rubbing his arm, his fingers probing gently at Dean's wrists, he feels the tension drain out of him. He'd say Cas has some freaky magic power or something but he knows better and he leans against Cas for a minute, going against everything his father ever taught him about road safety.

"Just give them some time" says Cas and Dean tries to believe him.

It's three months later when the phone goes in the middle of the night and it's Dean who rolls over after a minute to pick it up and mumble "You know what time it is, right?" down the line. He takes a second to glance at the Caller ID-Ruby's-and freezes before he brings the phone back to his ear.

"D-de-dean-"

Dean sits bolt upright because he knows his brother's voice, he knows it, and he knows when Sammy's in trouble. "Sammy?" He's already sliding out of bed, Cas stirring beside him, his ears straining for the sound of his brother's breathing, already thinking of ambulances and phones and then he's remembering their mother's coffin being carried down the aisle and please, please God, no.

"Dean-too much-took too much-going dark-gone-"

"Sammy?" and Dean shakes the phone as if that can keep Sammy awake. "Sammy, stay with me, I'm coming-"

"Dean?" Castiel is already sitting up, leaning forward to hear Sam's voice. "What's happening to him?"

"Dean-too-" The phone cuts off and Dean throws it across the room. It falls short of the wall and Cas scrambles for it. "Dean-"

"It's Sam" and he's already yanking at his jeans. "It's Sam, we need an ambulance, God, we need someone, I need to go-" and that's all in his head right at that second. "I need to go, I need to go to him" and it's all he can say and it keeps babbling out of his mouth. "I need to go to him."

Castiel's hand covers his mouth and Dean stops dead, his eyes staring into Cas's blue ones. "Go to him" says Cas and his voice is level and calm. "I'll ring an ambulance. Go to him."

Cas's hand drops away and Dean stares at him for another second. He wants to say so much to Cas right then but all that comes out is "Thanks" and he turns around and runs out the door.

The entire drive there, he's praying that he'll turn up and find the ambulance leaving with Sammy waving them off at the door with Ruby with one hand on her hip next to him, telling them it's fine, it was just a temporary thing, a lapse or something, everything's fine and Dean, I was about to call you, you didn't have to come all the way out here and then he'll get pissed and I was trying to help you, Sammy, what the hell did you think, you call me like that in the middle of the night and I'm just going to sit there-and then they'll argue and yell for a bit and then Sammy will put his head in his hands and say that he's sorry, he's sorry, he didn't think and Ruby will roll her eyes and Sammy will nudge her and say does Dean want to come in and call Cas and have a beer and Dean will stay pissed for a bit but it's his brother, his little brother and he'll walk in and Sammy'll hand him a beer and after a few minutes, one of them'll start talking and they'll go on talking with Ruby rolling her eyes in the corner and next thing you know it'll be morning and everything'll be fine. Sammy'll be just fine.

Dean tells himself this story over and over the entire fifteen-minute drive but the second he pulls up Ruby's driveway and sees the sirens flashing and the figure lying on a stretcher being lifted in, he knows none of it's true.

He doesn't remember braking, he doesn't remember running up the drive-all he knows is that suddenly he's there, being held back by medics who hold him still even when he's screaming that he's his brother and they're telling him it's all right, he can come to the hospital, they're going to do the best they can, and all Dean knows then is that he's saying his brother's name even as the ambulance doors close behind them.

And then he turns and sees Ruby being led down the drive by two cops and the next thing he knows, he's charging at her and he's got her by the shoulders and he's shrieking "What the fuck did you do to him" and it takes three of them to pull him off. And he shrieks and hits out before he crumples into one of their shoulders, sobbing and they don't slap the cuffs on him, they just hold him. And in the brief glimpse of Ruby's eyes he gets as she glances over her shoulder at him, he sees they're wet, wet with tears spilling down her cheeks and a vague part of Dean's brain registers that this is the first time he's ever seen her cry.

Cas is at the hospital when they get there and it's his arms that Dean walks into and his lap that Dean lays his head on, even when their father spills into the room, his face crumpled in a way Dean hasn't seen it be for years with Bobby behind him, both of their mouths wreathed with what happened, what happened, and Dean tells them it was Ruby, it was Ruby and John Winchester sinks into a chair, burying his face in his hands and mutters "I fucking knew it."

It's ages before they can see him and by that time, half the people they know have shown up, including Sarah with her new boyfriend Andy-some layabout punk that magically straightened up once Sarah got on the scene-with her face pale and Dean manages to get up from Cas's lap to wordlessly hug her-and Lisa shows up at one point and stares at Dean and Cas, throwing her arms around both of their necks and demanding to know what happened, what happened to Sammy, and Cassie's calling from across the country and it seems like the whole world's crowded into a hospital waiting room with them.

Then, some of Castiel's brothers show up and that might be the biggest surprise of the night; Gabriel, Uriel and Lucifer all standing there, in varying degrees of fluster, which Dean doesn't think he's ever seen before. Uriel tells him that Michael is sorry he couldn't come but that he "will attempt to visit, if that is possible" and Lucifer looks off to the side with a quick "What happened?" aimed at one of the others. Gabriel is holding a bunch of flowers and gives Dean a strained smile-Dean's never seen Gabriel's smile appear strained before.

"So-" he says, apparently looking for a sarcastic comment, a quick, witty line, his eyes lingering on Castiel for a moment before he turns to look at Dean. "So-" he says, and then something in his face seems to crumple. "Is he OK?" he says, his voice lower than Dean has ever heard it.

And Dean opens his mouth and closes it again and it's Cas who starts to tell the story until the doctors come in and say that Dean and John can see him now.

They try to tell Cas to wait outside but Dean says "He's family, too" and John backs him up.

The doctors tells him they've restarted Sammy's heart, he's breathing fine, he's going to be OK-but that he'll need to go to therapy, he'll need to go to rehab, he'll need, he'll need, he'll need-and Dean's just staring at the bed shaking his head back and forth and his heart pounding, seeing Sammy sitting at that table bent over his homework each night, and knowing that there's no way, no way, would his baby brother touch drugs.

And then they say that Ruby's fine too and she's been let off with a caution and Dean almost explodes because of course the bitch has been freaking let off, her father knows everyone in town, and it's Cas who takes hold of him and lets him bury his head in his trench coat and sob because Sammy's still here but he nearly wasn't.

It takes a while for Sammy to wake up, a while of people trekking in and out and his father sitting there with Bobby and Rufus at his side, both of them shaking their heads whenever John says "Why?" and saying "You can ask him when he wakes up". Uriel and Lucifer both nod and Gabriel awkwardly hands John the flowers and says "Give them to him when he wakes up" and then brushes Sam's forehead with a quick "Jesus, Sammy" before he leaves the room. Another time, Dean would be watching the whole interaction with narrowed eyes, but now he doesn't care. He just lies with his head in Cas's lap, watching Lisa and Sarah bend over Sammy with concerned eyes and closes his own, wishing they were all anywhere but here.

And when Sammy wakes up, why's the first question out of his father's mouth. And the cops. And Dean's.

Castiel doesn't say anything. He just squints at Sam in his own confused way, with his head tilted to the side and keeps his hand over Dean's the whole time.

And Sammy gives them the bullshit of "It's not Ruby's fault, she wasn't trying to get me hooked, I can handle it, it's fine, I've got a handle on it-" He gives the same spiel to every single person in the room and he doesn't get that absolutely no one is buying it.

It's Gabriel who sits down halfway through one of Sam's spiels and closes his eyes. "Jeez, Sammy, what are you doing" he says, and that pretty much sums it up for Dean.

"I told you" he can't stop saying to Castiel and everyone else. "I said there was something weird about that Ruby chick" because dammnit why didn't Sammy just listen for a change?

Castiel raises and drops his shoulders in a shrug. "I know you did, Dean" he says and then suddenly, he wraps his arms around him. "I know."

Dean shakes his head and buries himself in Castiel's shoulders, because why the fuck won't people see what's right in front of them?

Sammy doesn't go to jail. He doesn't die. He does go to rehab.

And he does get kept away from Ruby.

"You can't do that" he argues with John, while Dean sits in the next room with Cas and wonders how the hell this got to be their lives. "You can't do that."

"He just did, son" says Bobby, who's sitting in there with them, eyes flickering between the two of them and Castiel's fingers thread in between Dean's.

"You can't tell me how to live my life" goes Sammy and blah freaking blah, Dean burrows his head in Castiel's shoulder because the last time they tried letting Sammy live his life on his own terms, he ended up in the ICU.

He ignores the whole stupid freaking row, ignores Sammy slamming the door and yelling about how he's not a child and about how they just don't like Ruby and he threads his fingers through Cas's and squeezes back.

Weeks pass, weeks of Sammy not speaking to them and sitting in his room and sulking away and weeks of Castiel winding himself around Dean at night and Dean taking more and more comfort in Castiel's pictures and the feeling of that art smock in his hands when he twists Castiel around to kiss him.

And then Gabriel starts stopping by.

At first, Dean just lets him go up to Sam's room-it's not his house anymore, and hey, how much worse can the problem get?-and goes back into the living room with Cas and then they wait for Gabriel to come back down, having given up.

Instead, there's silence. A long silence. And then the sound is broken by something Dean hasn't heard in what feels like years-Sam laughing.

He couldn't have been more shocked if the ceiling had fallen in.

But after that, Gabriel and Sam are spending more time together. Even going out some places. And Sam always comes back in with a grin. He's being half-civil to everyone again. And Dean's glancing between him and Gabriel and he's starting to wonder and it's just wondering, just thinking about it and he's just about plucking up the courage to ask Sam when Sam comes bounding in one night and tells them he met this amazing girl named Jess at the bar and Gabriel got them in and said go for it-

And Dean nods and grins and when Jess comes around she's a sweet girl and nothing like Ruby and Dean pushes away those thoughts he was having for a while there about Sam maybe, Sam and-

It doesn't matter.

Time passes and their apartment gets more and more furniture. And Cas's paintings start getting picked up and it's a good time. Dean doesn't care that he works in a mechanic's, he doesn't care that Cas is going to be a famous artist while he'll probably never be anything special. It's him and Cas and so that'll never matter.

When Cas graduates art school, they're all there, Dean hand in hand with him, and the others all grouped in various poses, Sam and Jess laughing, Gabriel nudging his baby brother in the side-the same way they're all grouped together at Sam's graduation a few months later. And both nights when they're lying in bed, Dean holding Cas so close he feels as though he's trying to climb inside him, Cas whispers things against his mouth that make Dean grip him tighter and his fingers fasten into Castiel's hair and the thought of it not being like this, always being like this, is freaking unbearable.

It's half a year later when Cas tells him his art's being shown in a gallery and Dean wraps him in a bear hug and after the customary trailing his fingers through Cas' hair and the you're-a-genius kissing and then the this-is-the-best-thing-ever bout of sex that follows, Cas says "You will require a suit, Dean."

Dean lifts his head and presses his mouth to Cas's. "Sammy'll lend me something."

Castiel nods, tilting his head to the side. "Just make sure it's...suitable."

Something about Cas's tone is off and his eyes flicker quickly away and Dean's hand slides under Cas's chin. "Cas." He lets his eyes linger on the blue depths, lets his mouth tease at the edge of Cas's-all tried and tested methods of coaxing the truth out of Castiel. "Talk to me."

Cas twists for a moment and then sighs, turning to face Dean, but his mouth doesn't meet Dean's. "Dean" and his eyes linger on Dean's chest for a moment before he inhales sharply and lifts his gaze to meet Dean's once again. "Dean, some of these people that I'm expected to socialize with...they are rather prestigious."

Dean nods slowly. "So?" He tries for a grin, lets his fingers trace under Castiel's mouth. "You think I'm going to embarrass you?" He tries to make the words sound light but something else seems to crawl out with them, some sudden doubt that makes them sound far heavier.

Castiel's eyes widen. "How could you even think that?"

Dean remembers Cas doesn't always pick up on teasing, even now and brushes another kiss to his lips. "I was joking, Cas."

Castiel relaxed beneath him, his shoulders slumping beneath Dean's touch. "You know I would never think that."

"I know, Cas."

Castiel's eyes meet Dean's and there's a niggle of worry still there so Dean grabs his chin and kisses him again, more forcefully this time. "I said I was kidding, Cas."

Castiel sighs and looks away. "It's just...this is a-" His eyes meet Dean's and they're suddenly blazing bright. "This is a big thing, Dean. This is-this is a chance to-"

"I know" says Dean, and he kisses him. "Cas, it's OK, I get it-"

"This will show that I'm not just a hammer" says Cas and his tone is suddenly fierce. "I'm not just the same as my brothers. I am someone who is-someone who can count-"

Dean slides on top of Castiel in one sudden move, his hand tilting Cas's chin, letting Cas's eyes meet his. "Hey" he says and Castiel looks at him slowly. "You are someone. You count. You count to me" and there's another kiss there. "You count, and anyone who says you don't, well, they're talking bull, Cas."

Castiel swallows and glances away and then says "Thank you, Dean."

Dean's used to this, the odd formality that glides over Castiel's features on occasion and he knows the way to tease it out of him. He brings Castiel's mouth back to his and their legs wrap around each other, effectively ending the discussion for a time.

The night of the opening, Dean is feeling like some trophy wife that's wheeled out to say the right things and give a big grin to douchebags who could not get further up their own asses if they tried, but he's damned if he's going to let Cas down. Castiel's pretty tense but every time Dean slides their fingers together, he seems to relax.

Sammy and Jess have shown up together, too, and they both give Castiel a hug and a kiss. Cas is in a suit-Dean can't remember the last time he saw Cas out of a sweater, art smock or that trench coat. It suits him but Dean misses the coat. A couple of Cas's brothers have shown up, also in suits, though Dean has to admire Gabriel's nerve as he pops up with a "Congrats, Cassy" and a kiss on the cheek for both of them. Dean doesn't think Gabriel's ever kissed Cas in front of him before and Cas gives him a glower that fades pretty quickly when Dean does the same thing.

"Castiel" and Dean's brow furrows at the British accent, refined and with something underneath-almost a sneer though Dean can't even see the speaker.

Castiel's eyes widen for a moment before he turns and his eyes meet the speaker's. "Crowley" he says and Dean realises a second too late that Cas has been expecting this all evening, perhaps waiting for it, and that he didn't tell Dean, and that there's a reason for that.

Crowley takes in Castiel from head to toe, and there's a smirk at his mouth that makes Dean clench his teeth together, particularly when Crowley's eyes linger on Castiel's crotch. "Congratulations on the opening" says Crowley and there's a hint of a sneer again in the voice, even though he's eyeing Castiel with something that borders on avid interest. "You have quite a talent."

Castiel flushes and there's a certain brightness to his eyes. Dean lets his gaze flicker between them slowly and his hand tightens on Castiel's, feeling like a dog marking its' owner.

"You're too kind" says Castiel and there's something different in his voice too-something brighter than there is when Castiel is relaxed, almost something fake.

Crowley tilt his own head to the side. "Don't be coy, Castiel" he says and then he leans forward so that his mouth is almost brushing Castiel's ear and Dean has to fight the urge to sink his fist into the guy's face. "Everyone's expecting rather-" His gaze flickers down and Dean seriously has to clench his fist to keep it still at his side as Crowley's gaze lingers again on Castiel's trousers. "Impressive things from you" he finally finishes.

"Then I hope I won't disappoint you" says Castiel and Dean has to turn and stare at him because seriously, who the hell is this speaking?

Crowley's eyebrow arches and he leans forward, letting his lips brush the edge of Castiel's ear. "Dark little horse, aren't you?" he says and he lets himself linger there for a moment before he turns to look at Dean. "Going to introduce me to your friend?" he says and Castiel turns to Dean, blinking rather fast as if he's forgotten where he is.

"This is my partner, Dean" he says firmly and Crowley lets that eyebrow arch again. Dean imagines his hand slamming into Crowley's teeth.

"Pleasure to meet you" says Crowley, and he manages to make it sound anything but. His eyes flicker up and down, taking Dean in, as if he's trying to guess the weight of a sack of potatoes.

"Likewise" says Dean and his fingers grasp Crowley's wrist as he imagines breaking it. He's surprised he can say anything at all, his teeth are clenched so tightly.

He turns away, sliding his hand out of Castiel's and staring at the nearest painting to distract himself from fantasies of smashing Crowley against a wall. He finds himself staring at one of Castiel's paintings, one Castiel did of someone staring at the sky. Even though you can't see the guy's eyes, you can tell he's watching the clouds, staring up, with his back to everything else. And Dean can see what Castiel's titled the picture: Wish You Weren't There.

Dean manages to hold it in until they've said goodbye to Castiel's brothers, to Jess, to Sammy, until they're in the Impala driving home-and then he turns to Cas and says "What the hell was that?"

Castiel's smiling and that alone's wrong, because any other time, he'd have noticed there was a freaking problem, he'd have known something wasn't right, and this is just something else different about Cas tonight.

Now, Castiel blinks, coming slowly out of his own world, his eyes resting on Dean's as his brow furrows. "What?"

Dean looks at him. "That. In there. You weren't-" He shakes his head. "You weren't the same so don't tell me you were the same. You're freaking different with them, Cas."

Castiel is staring at him as if Dean's the idiot here, when Cas has been the one acting like he's had a freaking personality transplant. "Of course I'm different, Dean. They're different from you." Something about the tone makes Dean grip the wheel tighter.

"Yeah? Well, you know what, Cas, some of those people-" He stops short and tries to remind himself how it'd feel if Cas told Dean to stop talking to Adam, the kid who helps out at the mechanic's, because Dean sounded different around him to the way he did around Castiel. And then Dean thinks of Crowley nibbling at Cas's ear tonight and that's enough to make him launch back in.

"And what was up with the dark horse dick?"

"The what?" Castiel blinks at Dean, clearly trying to recollect any mention of a dark horse dick.

Dean snorts. "You know who I mean, the guy with the British accent, the one practically humping you right there in the freaking-" He's suddenly very aware of how loud his voice is.

"Stop the car, Dean." Castiel's voice is calm and level. But his jaw's rigid and his eyes are bright and Dean knows he's managed to piss Cas off royally.

He pulls the car over and by the time he's got to the side of the road, he's starting to wonder if he was too hard on Cas. But he pulls the car to a halt and then turns to look at him.

"Look, Cas-" but Cas presses a hand over Dean's mouth and another time, this would be hot as all hell, even with that look on Cas's face. Perhaps especially with that look on Cas's face, with those pursed lips and the eyes, glittering, bright.

"Dean-" and Cas's voice is low and rough in his throat. "I have to-" And Dean looks away because of course turning up tonight, of course it wasn't freaking enough.

And then Cas stops and stares at him, and then his hand travels out and strokes Dean's chin slowly. "Dean" says Castiel and his voice is much softer now. "I understand that that was not ideal for you."

"Cas-" and Dean looks the other way. "Maybe we're both just-"

Castiel shakes his head. "I should have stopped Crowley" he says softly and his thumb lingers under Dean's lip. "I just-" He shakes his head again slowly. "I wanted to be something" he says again and Dean's hand covers his mouth this time.

"Look, Cas" he says. "I'm sorry. I was a dick." He tries to push away the idea that Castiel is pretty much the only person he's ever said this to.

"So was I" says Castiel and Dean can't stop himself snorting with laughter at the idea of Cas saying the word. Cas cursing is always bizarre-Dean feels a rush of heat to his groin at the thought of the first time he and Cas were in bed and he found that spot and he heard Cas's voice beneath him, groaning something incoherent before he whispered "Fuck, Dean" and Dean had basically passed out right there because Cas that out of control was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

He reaches out and tilts Castiel's mouth to his own. "Guess we were both a couple of dumbasses, huh?" he says and Castiel smiles against him.

"I prefer the term "uncommunicative"" he says before he wraps his arms around Dean's shoulders, bringing their mouths back together, and Dean can kiss him back and shoves the niggling thought out of his mind that says that they haven't discussed what's going to happen next time.

The next few months go by much the same-though Cas is spending more and more time at the art studio that all the local "artists" go to, or painting at the easel in the corner of the room rather than spending his evenings nestled up with his head on Dean's shoulder, staring at the TV screen.

"I have duties" he reminds Dean, whenever Dean rolls his eyes at Cas's refusal to climb into bed with him, those blue eyes staring so intently at the easel. "I am not allowed to just abandon them."

Dean shakes his head and Castiel turns to stare at him. "I don't serve you, Dean" he says in a tone that carries just enough of a warning edge that Dean backs off. But there's something about the tension in Cas's shoulders, the intense focus of those eyes that makes Dean wonder if Castiel serves anything but whatever he's painting at that moment.

"Don't piss off the art nerd" he warns Sam. "Seriously, look in his eyes, thought he was going to smite me."

Sam's watching him with his head tilted to the side, and Dean steals a look at his younger brother. It's been nearly two years since the whole Ruby issue and Sam's clean-Dean knows that. But he can't stop checking his brother's face for dark circles under the eyes, because hell, last time he was meant to be looking after Sammy, he didn't do such a great job.

Sam swallows and then lifts his eyes slowly to Dean. "It doesn't sound that unreasonable, asking Cas to spend some time with you" he says slowly and Dean rolls his eyes because that wasn't what he freaking meant at all.

"Dude's busy, not his fault. He's just-stressed" he says and wishes he felt as convinced as the tone suggests.

"Yeah, but still" says Sam, taking a bite of salad-Dean's got a burger and of course Sammy's got a salad, typically freaking Sammy. "Doesn't mean he should totally ignore you."

OK, now Dean's starting to feel as if he's being pushed into the role of neglected wife. "Dude" he says, holding his hands up. "Cas is not ignoring me. We're fine. It's good" because the last thing he needs is Sammy worrying and mentioning it to Gabriel and the next thing he knows he'll have half of Castiel's brothers turning up at the door, telling him how Cas needs time to focus on his art, and Dean'll have to tell them all to piss off, that's his and Cas's business and he and Cas don't need more problems.

Sammy nods. "OK" he says, going for another bite of the salad. "But dude, you have to tell me if something's up. Like if Cas is acting sketchy." A grin spreads over his face. "Get it? Art? Sketchy? Cas-"

Dean just gives him a long look and Sam shuts up.

He might have told Sammy there's no problems but then again, Cas is still spending plenty of time with that easel and it's seriously starting to eat into time that could be spent doing things that are a hell of a lot more enjoyable. And Dean might even have said something to Cas except for the phone call that comes one night, when Michael's voice asks very formally if he could please speak to Castiel.

Cas comes and takes the phone with a puzzled glance at Dean. "Michael?" he says, and Dean leaves the room, giving Cas space in case he needs to yell at his brother in private.

It's several minutes later when he hears a thud from inside and stops dead on his way past, before he turns back to the door. "Cas?" he calls and when there's no answer, opens the door. "Cas?"

Castiel is standing, staring straight ahead, the phone lying on the floor where he's clearly dropped it. There's no voice buzzing out of the receiver-Cas must have ended the call before he went into silent meltdown mode. But Dean's ignoring the phone because he's already stepped over, his hands closing on Castiel's shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Cas?" He can hear his voice building, even as he tries to bring it down, tries not to freak Cas out. "Cas, talk to me."

"Dean-" and Castiel's voice is low and far away. His eyes wander around the room for a minute as if he isn't even sure where he is before they settle on Dean's face and he stares at him as if he's never seen him before. "Dean-"

"Cas?" One hand cups Castiel's cheek and Dean leans closer, his forehead pressing against Castiel's. "Cas, what the hell happened?"

"Dean-" Castiel looks at him and those eyes are wide and huge and look as if Cas is about to break. "Dean, he's dead." Castiel swallows and the words tremble in the air as if he doesn't quite believe them, even as Dean's thumb brushes under his eyes as the world seems to slow down around them. "My father's dead."

Dean's the one holding Cas's hand at the funeral-Michael makes most of the arrangements, helped by Uriel and Raphael. Zachariah oversees a lot of it too, his lips occasionally puckering as he looks at Dean and Cas hand in hand but honestly, right now, Dean couldn't care less.

Lucifer and Gabriel look shell-shocked and so does Anna who holds onto Cas when he puts his arms around her as if she'll never let him go and then does the same to Dean. Sam and Jess turn up hand in hand but Dean notices something different in Sam-something different in the looks he's exchanging with Gabriel. Another time, he wouldn't lose the opportunity to laugh his ass off at the looks the two of them are exchanging but today, that's the furthest thing from his mind. John and Bobby turn up too, and each of them clap Cas on the shoulder with a "You'll get through this, son" that makes Dean roll his eyes because he knows they mean well but seriously, could they not have come up with anything else? Even Jo and her mom show up to put their arms around Castiel's shoulders and lay flowers on the coffin and Dean lets Jo lean against his chest for a second, and this time she just looks at him like a little sister, which is one less weight on his mind.

Castiel doesn't cry. He just leans against Dean's shoulder, with this strange, wide-eyed look, almost as if it hasn't sunk in yet. Privately, Dean considers that the funeral might just be one more pressure on Cas's shoulders, but he doesn't say anything aloud. He just squeezes Cas's arm as Michael does the eulogy and Castiel leans his head against Dean's shoulder, as if it's too much effort to say anything out loud. Even Meg Masters turns up at the wake to give Cas a hug that lasts too long for Dean's liking and a "Sorry for your loss" that coincides with her eyes lingering on Cas's suit, and his hand linked tightly in Dean's. A few cousins turn up like Samandreel, who gives Cas a quick, seemingly genuine hug and a sweet smile and Balthazar who wraps Castiel in a hug with a sigh and a "Cassy, Cassy, Cassy" which makes Castiel roll his eyes over Balthazar's shoulder.

It's hours before they all leave, before Castiel returns to John's old house with Dean, where they go upstairs to Dean's old bedroom and Castiel falls out of his suit and into a pair of pyjamas with that old trench coat wrapped around him.

"I didn't think it would happen" he says finally, the most Dean has heard him say all day. "I-" He rolls over onto his back and Dean's hands braid through his hair. "I wanted him to be proud of me" he finally says and the little crack in his voice makes Dean close his own eyes, and it takes an effort to keep his voice steady.

"He was" he says and Castiel shakes his head.

"No. I wanted him to be proud of me. Not just-not just all of us." He turns to face Dean, those blue eyes blazing, and whispers "Proud of me."

Dean gets it-he gets it instantly. And he remembers all those times that Castiel's father sat in a study, the door firmly closed, and the longing looks Castiel would sometimes give that door, as if his gaze could reach all the way inside and touch his father. Dean thinks of the times John Winchester would stay late at the mechanic's, leaving him and Sammy to have their tea cooked by Bobby, turning up hours after Sammy was crashed out asleep and Dean was supposed to be, but lying awake, listening for his father's return.

"I believed he'd be here to see it" Cas whispers and there's something raw and torn in his voice. "Me do something."

"Cas-" and Dean's hands grip his shoulders because what the hell can he say to make any of this better?

"I thought he'd be here" and Cas is trembling in Dean's arms. "I thought if I just waited-I thought I had time-"

"Cas-"

Castiel shakes his head, his gaze upturned to the ceiling. "You son of a bitch" he whispers and Dean can't take the way the words break in Cas's throat. "I believed in you."

Dean presses wordless kisses to Cas's forehead and then Cas breaks down, turning into Dean's chest, his face ragged and raw with tears in a way Dean's never seen before. His face is pressed into Dean's shirt, his shoulders heaving and his hands seize great fistfuls of the material as he twists it back and forth, as if by holding on tight enough he can bring his father back, bring him back and say all the words to him he wants to. And he sobs and whispers and all Dean can do is hold him and whisper and hold on and promise that he's not going to let go.

The next few months are hard, but they get through it somehow-they get through it with Cas crawling onto Dean's chest and curling up and closing his eyes while tears run silently down his cheeks and Dean's hands move slowly through his hair, whispering reassuring words. They see Gabriel more often too, whenever they hang out with Sam and Dean notices that it's Sam who gets Gabriel laughing, sometimes even leaning into Sam, calling him Moose which Sam rolls his eyes at-and Dean bites his lip and says nothing but when Sam tells him that he and Jessica broke up, it's not exactly a huge surprise.

For a while, Cas's art is full of storms and skulls and fire and Dean nods at each one and doesn't say anything about how much time Cas is spending painting, just lets him paint, paint until it seems to be out of his system, until he comes to bed with his eyes drooping and falls into a dreamless sleep against Dean's chest almost immediately, which is better than the nights when he has nightmares and wakes up shaking and whimpering in Dean's arms.

But slowly, the art grows more peaceful, quieter and Castiel's nightmares diminish and for a while, Dean thinks that things are going to be OK again.

A few more art shows pass and Cas is starting to get reviews-good ones, thank God, which always make his cheeks flush with pleasure and Dean wraps his arms around his shoulders, while his brothers react variously from "Congratulations, Castiel" (Michael) to "Better than I expected from you, Castiel" (Zachariah) to "Nice one, Cassy" (Gabriel). And it's at another one of these shows that Crowley shows up again.

It's just Dean and Cas out of their circle that's shown up tonight, and Crowley makes his way over with a "Looks like you might have exceeded my expectations, Castiel."

Cas blinks and Crowley indicates the walls. "You've got a good pair of hands, haven't you?" The way he lets his eyes linger on Castiel's hands tells Dean there's no way in hell this guy means just artistically.

Dean slings his arm around Castiel's shoulder and lets his eyes rest on his face. "Yeah, he does" he says, letting his eyes narrow, keeping his gaze on Crowley.

Castiel stiffens under his arm but nods with a quick smile at Crowley. Crowley lets an eyebrow arch and his gaze runs up and down Castiel's body. "Well, if you ever need any assistance" he says, and his voice lingers almost lovingly over the last word. "Let me know, little dark horse."

Enough's enough and Dean's about to punch this guy-he doesn't care if he runs every freaking art studio in the country, the way he's looking at Cas is enough to make Dean want to see him fly through a wall-when Crowley says "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Castiel blinks and when Dean exchanges a glance with him, shrugs-evidently, this is as much of a surprise to Castiel as it is to him. Crowley gestures behind him, where a woman steps out of the crowd as if Crowley had summoned her via telepathy.

"Cas-" and Dean really has to grit his teeth to stop his fist flying forward at the sound of that nickname on Crowley's lips. "This is Naomi."

The woman extends her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Castiel." She's got a pleasant smile but something's off about the eyes. Something colder than the smile.

"Likewise" says Castiel, taking the hand slowly. He gives Dean a quick glance and Dean shrugs, as lost in the situation as Cas, if not more.

"I've been watching your art for a while" says Naomi, as Crowley turns his head, vanishing into the crowd with a nod at Dean. "You know, I have some contacts you might be interested in."

Dean looks at Castiel, whose eyes are narrowed, his lips pursed-Dean can tell he's torn in between wanting to stick with Dean and whatever Naomi's suggesting. And Dean can tell that whatever he feels about Naomi, she can offer Cas more in art than Dean can.

"Go and talk, dude" he suggests, letting his arm slide away from Castiel's shoulder. "I'll wait for you outside."

Castiel gives him a look, a look that Dean can't begin to unravel and then says "Thank you, Dean." Something in his voice is off and Dean watches, feeling his brow furrow, as Castiel takes a step towards Naomi, who takes his arm in a way that makes Dean fantasize about throwing something after the pair of them before he remembers that he's the one who suggested Cas go off with her in the first place.

Still, he doesn't need to watch Cas being art-brainwashed by these two so he turns and heads for the door, with the idea of waiting by the car. He's barely reached the steps when he closes his eyes and tries to push away the image of Crowley's eyes lingering on Castiel's lower half.

"You look pissed off."

Dean's eyes open at the voice and he turns his head to see a boy sitting on the steps. He's young, with black hair to his chin, his head tilted to the side, as he takes in Dean.

"Anyone ever tell you you could be a detective?" says Dean, before turning to stare in the opposite direction because, man, he does not need to get into it with some kid on the steps while he waits for Cas to get back from Crowley's clutches.

"Take it you met Crowley" and at that, Dean spins round.

"You know him?" he asks and the kid grimaces with a roll of the eyes.

"Barely. But most people have that face after they speak to him" he says, indicating Dean's facial expression. "He's a dick."

Dean feels a grin spread across his own face and he sinks down on the steps, letting his head lean back against the next one up. "How'd you know him?"

"My mom works here" says the boy, who's slumped against the steps. "She's a curator. I'm just waiting for her to finish up." He indicates the door with his head. "She can't stand him, either."

"What's your name?"

"Kevin." The boy takes a look at him. "What's yours?"

"Dean."

"How do you know him?"

"My boyfriend. He's in there, getting art brainwashed right now."

"That guy with the trench coat?"

Dean frowns. "He's not wearing-"

"No, but usually. Usually, he wears a trench coat."

"Oh. Yeah, that's him."

Kevin shakes his head. "Crowley's always talking about him."

Dean frowns. "What do you mean?"

Kevin shrugs. "Crowley's always after new artists. He's an art dealer. More for him, you see." He brushes his hair out of his eyes. "But he's always got an eye for pretty guys." He rolls his eyes. "His words, not mine."

Dean can barely listen. He's gritting his teeth so hard they hurt and he turns to stare inside, wishing he could see through walls or even better, that he'd never let Cas go off with Naomi and Crowley in the first place.

"You OK?" Kevin's watching him with his head tilted to the side and Dean shakes his head.

"Fine" he says while he tells himself that he's overreacting. While Crowley might be interested, there's no freaking way Cas would ever respond. No freaking way.

But he keeps remembering all the time Cas has been spending at the studio recently, the way he stares at the easel and Cas's words. I want to be something.

Dean grits his teeth. The end of the night can't come fast enough.

He doesn't bother to ask Cas about it-he gets the sense that telling his boyfriend he thinks some art dealer with a dodgy beard and a British accent's trying to get into his pants won't help the situation but when Cas has drifted off to sleep that night, Dean turns over and watches him for a few moments and watches him as his lips twitch while he sleeps. Cas murmurs something and Dean rolls over and tries not to imagine Cas dreaming about Crowley. Which he knows is just freaking stupid, obviously.

Over the next few weeks, Cas is spending more and more time at the stupid art studio and all Dean can think of is that look Crowley gave him and Kevin's words are still echoing in his ears. And every time Cas comes home late, with that look in his eyes, that intense absorbed look, Dean has to grit his teeth and try not to punch a hole through the freaking wall. Dean loves that look, when it's focused on him.

And OK, the first few nights he doesn't say anything. It's not like he's cooked Cas's dinner or anything and left it to warm in the stove-he's not like the abandoned wife or something. Instead, he just shrugs when Cas tells him about some new piece of art he's working on and hopes Cas will pick up via stony silence that he should come home early more often-but then again, this is Cas who didn't even know how to kiss a girl so maybe Dean's expecting way too much here.

And then it gets to Friday night and Cas gets home two hours late and that's when Dean decides things are coming to a freaking head.

"Hello, Dean" says Cas calmly, standing in front of him the way he always does when he comes home and Dean gets up.

"Hello?" he says, and he can already hear his voice rising and knows the whole night is going to hell. "Hello? You're two hours late, Cas. Two freaking hours."

Cas blinks, that confusion spreading over his face for a moment but there's something else too-that firm set of the lips that tells Dean Cas isn't going to give in here, and that just makes him feel like throwing something.

"I was occupied, Dean" says Castiel with that determined levelness to his voice and Dean turns away from him because he doesn't need to hear this. "I have duties-"

"Yeah, you know what, Cas? The rest of us have duties too, and we manage them a damn sight better than you do." The words come out without him even thinking them.

Castiel's eyes narrow and for a second, something like a flinch passes over his face, his eyes flickering and Dean thinks for a moment that this is it, Cas will back down now, he'll back down and he'll say sorry and Dean'll have to say sorry, too, but then they'll just spend the night in really great make-up sex and they'll forget about it. But then Cas's head tilts to the side and Dean can tell that's not going to happen.

"Forgive me if your duties-" and Dean might be imagining the lingering stress Cas puts on the word there, "Seem less important than mine."

Something about the tone has Dean staring and then he takes a step forward. "Dude, are you saying that your job is more important?"

Castiel's lips purse. "No, Dean." He takes a step forward. "But I have responsibilities."

Whatever Castiel says, it doesn't sound too convincing and Dean takes a step forward and stares at him. "Yeah?" he says. "Well, you know what, Cas. Go and spend more freaking time with your responsibilities."

He knows it's one lame-ass remark but he sees Cas's eyes widen and realises the words have hit home somehow. And he feels good about that for a split second before he realises how screwed-up that is-that he feels good about something that was basically the verbal equivalent of shoving Cas in the gut.

He can't finish this, he just can't, and he turns to head for the door, thinking about climbing behind the Impala's wheel. Get to Sammy's, hang out, have a drink. Just push this out of his head, all these weird problems with Cas out of his head, just get to Sammy's.

Cas's voice stops him as he reaches the door. "Dean."

He stops and turns round, waiting for a "Where are you going?" or a "I do not understand" from Castiel. Either one of them would be better than this. Freaking annoying but better than this.

But instead, Castiel just stands very still and watches him. "For what it's worth" he says and his voice is low, lower than usual, and rough in his throat. "I'd give anything not to have to do all this."

The voice is so freaking raw and something about it tears at Dean's skin and he can't stop himself standing there, staring back for a moment because usually, he holds onto these moments, these moments when Cas is so suddenly open and vulnerable and trusting, as though he's become more human for a few minutes. But tonight, Dean stares at him and then remembers that voice coming out of his throat that night with Crowley and the sound of it in his head makes him turn and walk out the door, leaving Cas standing alone in the middle of the room.

What you wanted, I never knew

I was a mess but you turned so cruel-The Pains of Being Pure At Heart.

He doesn't slow down the whole way to Sammy's and when his brother opens the door, he just says "Can I come in?" without anything else because if Sammy tries to get him to go over it all now, Dean thinks he might explode.

Luckily, Sammy lets him get a beer and sit down rather than asking why the hell Dean's here.

It takes a while before Dean speaks. "Sammy" he says, and he stares down at the beer because he'd rather see that than his little brother's face right now. "You remember when you were with Ruby?"

Sam nods slowly, keeping his eyes on Dean's face, even when Dean doesn't meet his gaze. "Yeah?"

"When did you work out we were right?" Dean doesn't look up, keeps his gaze on his table. "About her?"

Sammy sighs and stares down at the table, lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Took a while. With Gabriel hanging around and stuff-I just started-not thinking about her as much." He pushes a hand through his hair. "It wasn't even her-it was just-I don't know-" He looks up at Dean and his eyes are wide. "Is this about you and Cas?"

"What do you mean, me and Cas?" Dean keeps his gaze on the table, his eyes on the amber surface of the beer. He wishes he could drink the whole thing down and then another and another to make him forget that look on Cas's face, that curl of the lip that didn't belong there, but he's got to drive home.

Sam looks at him. "Well, you know-" He keeps his gaze on the table. "You two have seemed-kind of distant, lately."

Dean shakes his head, and Sam sighs. "Look-" He meets Dean's gaze. "Whatever's going on with you two-you-you know-you'll get through it if you want to." He keeps his eyes on Dean even when he doesn't look up. "When I first started getting over Ruby, it was when I was hanging around with Gabriel and-then I met Jess, obviously-but I don't know-" His cheeks are suddenly flushed and he keeps his eyes on the table. "Just helped, hanging out with him" he finishes, his words more muffled than usual.

Dean knows his brother's trying to help but he's not sure if he can honestly take advice from someone so willingly freaking blind. Then again, he doesn't feel like having a row with Sammy, so he just takes another sip of beer and shuts up.

When he gets home, he finds the apartment dark and when he steps into the bedroom, he finds Cas curled up on the bedcovers. His head's burrowed into the pillow and his arms are wrapped around himself in what looks almost like a fetal position. His eyes are closed but they flicker occasionally, and Dean wonders what he's dreaming about.

It takes a moment but then Dean sits down and stretches out a hand. "Don't wake up" he whispers and his hand moves over Cas's hair gently. "Don't wake up" and he lies down next to him, lets his arm slide around Castiel's shoulders. Cas shudders in his sleep and Dean feels the tension drain out of him, as he moves back against Dean's chest.

It takes a while but he falls asleep like that, with his arm still around Cas's shoulders and Cas curled up, facing away from him.

They don't speak about it and they both try to forget the fact that Cas is spending almost all of his time out of the house. Dean tries to ignore the fact that Cas spends all his time in front of that freaking easel.

One day, he goes to pick Cas up at the art studio. And then he just stands there outside and wonders how the hell it got to this stage, a stage where he can't even talk to Cas about anything beyond "What do you want to eat?" when they had sitting on a car outside a movie theatre at night and Cas's hands in his hair and lying in the back seat of a car together and Cas's eyes on his since they were five years old.

"Cheer up, it might never happen."

Dean turns to see a geeky-looking guy clearing out a shed. He offers Dean a smile and then raises a hand. "Name's Garth" he says, even though Dean never asked. He gives a grin and then turns back to the task.

Dean shakes his head and turns back to the building, wondering what the hell he did to deserve all this.

And it's then that Castiel appears in the doorway, those eyes darting from side to side, and Dean feels the tension drain out of his shoulders. "Hey" he says, taking a step forward and letting his hands rest on Castiel's shoulders. He lets his head dip forward, brushes his lips across Castiel's cheek.

"Dean." Castiel raises his head to meet Dean's gaze. "I'm sorry, I have to stay longer." Despite the regretful tone, there's a brightness to Castiel's eyes, a brightness that Dean half-remembers from somewhere.

"What for?" he says and OK, maybe he should sound a bit happier for Cas, but seriously, he's been waiting for freaking ages.

"Crowley and I are just discussing a showing" and the second Dean hears Crowley's name, he knows that there's no point listening anymore.

"Yeah, fantastic" he says and Cas's eyes narrow and Dean remembers that Cas doesn't get sarcasm.

"It is" he says, clearly bewildered by Dean's tone and despite everything, Dean feels a stab of regret. He looks into Cas's big blue eyes and suddenly realises that Cas is desperate to go back inside and that probably the last place he wants to be right now is standing here with Dean.

And something about that seems to grab onto Dean's heart and drag it right down so he just turns away with a "No problem, see you later."

He's already taken a couple of steps when Cas calls after him. "Dean."

It takes a moment for him to turn. "What?"

Castiel is staring at the floor and then he looks up. "I will see you later" he says and Dean wishes he could believe him.

Instead, he just turns away. He's halfway to the car when another voice stops him. "Tough, dude" and he looks up to see Garth and seriously, did this guy have to show up now?

"Dude" says Garth and he's still pulling stuff out of the stupid shed. "Take my advice. Just talk to him" and he indicates the building where Cas has disappeared back inside with his head.

Dean rolls his eyes because seriously, he's known Garth for all of five minutes, why would he take his advice on freaking anything? He gives him a look and then gets back in the car, feeling Garth watch him as he drives off.

Dean doesn't really accompany Cas to art openings, anymore. Cas doesn't seem to need the support. He grins on his own now, goes up to Crowley himself. Even dresses in a suit. Cas in a freaking suit.

He has proper equipment now, for painting, proper clothes to wear. He's kind of abandoned the old sweaters he used to wear, the art smocks he used to wear. It lies over a chair in their room, stained with paint, looking kind of abandoned. And he only wears the trench coat that he basically grew up wearing-because, seriously, he's been wearing it since they were teenagers-when he's not working. Which is less and less often.

And when Cas comes home, it's later and later and sometimes, Dean's passed out asleep, and they don't even say goodnight.

It freaking sucks.

When he's talking to Sammy, he knows his little brother can tell something's wrong. Sammy just watches him and when Dean makes some off hand comment about hardly seeing Cas these days, Sam gives this long sigh and says "Have you tried talking to him?"

Dean settles for a shrug. To talk to Cas, Cas would have to be there-or at least be there in a way that doesn't feel as though there's some giant freaking wall between them. Even when they're sitting on the couch, with their fingers loosely joined, something feels wrong, off, as if they're a jigsaw puzzle and someone's come along and rearranged the pieces and nothing fits where it's meant to anymore.

"Try, dude" Sam persists. "I know Cas is important to you."

"Important?" Dean stares at Sam because seriously, Cas is freaking everything. He always has been, Dean just didn't see it for ages.

"Look" says Sam and Dean hates the moments it feels like his little brother can read his mind. "I guess-for you and Cas, it's harder, because-you know-you've known each other longer-"

Dean stares at him. "How the hell does that make it harder?" he demands, without bothering to inquire what it means.

Sam doesn't blink at the tone. "Well" he says slowly. "I guess I could figure out my life without Ruby because she hadn't always been there. But if something happened between you and Cas-"

"Wait, wait-" Dean holds up a hand. "Nothing's going to happen between me and Cas. We're fine. We'll figure it out."

Sam's face is inscrutable. "OK" he says, finally. "Hope so."

"How are you and Gabriel, anyway?" Dean retorts and has the satisfaction of seeing his brother's face flush scarlet.

But the words stick in his head, niggling and wondering.

Cas has been out more and more often lately and at first, Dean tells himself that it's just work, it's just business, and Cas is just working hard, but when he starts coming home with his clothes rumpled and his hair messed up, Dean decides enough is enough, and that's the start of another row.

"I've been at the studio" he says, with that confused tilt and the narrowed eyes and Dean snorts. "Yeah, Cas" he says, turning away. "Sure, you have-"

"I have, Dean" and Cas is staring even harder at him. "Where else would I have been?"

"I don't know" says Dean, drawing the words out. "With Crowley?" Because Crowley is where Castiel seems to be spending the majority of his time and every time Dean thinks of Crowley's eyes inching down over Castiel's body, he almost chucks something out the window.

"I have been with Crowley" says Castiel, and something seems to burn under Dean's skin. "Examining art" and Dean wants to shake him.

"Cas" and he lets his head fall into his hands. "That dude is trying to get into your pants. Why the hell can't you freaking see that?"

Castiel purses his lips together and stares in the other direction. "Crowley is necessary" he says and his voice is lower than usual. "I have to have other loyalties, Dean."

Dean blinks. "And what the hell does that mean?"

Castiel lets his gaze meet Dean's. "I have to have other priorities" and his jaw is tight, his fists clenched. "I have to put other things first. Besides you."

"Besides me?" Dean's about to point out that Cas never puts him first, but then he realises that he'll sound like the whiny chick who gets left at home.

Castiel stares at him and then says "You know, Dean, some of my life is more important than you." The words are cold, and they seem to stab into Dean's skin. And Castiel stares and says "I do not have any obligation to stay here."

Dean stares at him and wonders where the hell the Cas he knew has gone. The Cas who wore art smocks and trench coats and drew Dean for hours on end. The Cas who stared at Dean with those big blue eyes whenever he spoke, who had his pencil always moving in a sketchbook. His Cas is gone, replaced by this one in front of him who stares with those huge eyes that seem blank and empty.

Dean takes a step back. "What the hell have they done to you?" he says and the words seem to crumble away. "You were like our family."

The word hangs in the air between them and Castiel blinks and stares at him. He stares for a long moment, as if he's forgotten the whole thing and he's trying to work out where exactly he is. Then, he says slowly "I didn't mean it like that, Dean."

Another time, Dean would guess Cas probably didn't-this is Cas, after all. But right then, with Cas standing in front of him, he's not feeling so generous.

"Yeah?" he says, and he knows even as the words come out that a part of him might regret this later. "Well, maybe I do."

And he walks out of the apartment.

When he comes back later, after sitting in a bar for three hours alone, and wondering if this is the future, Cas isn't there. But Dean's sufficiently drunk to ignore that and crawl into bed, passing out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

And when he wakes up at six to Cas getting into bed, he doesn't even think to wonder why it's this early, he just feels a momentary stab of relief that Cas didn't sleep on the sofa.

And they don't talk about it. In fact, Dean's starting to notice they don't talk about a lot of things.

He thinks more and more over the next few weeks. He starts noticing, when they're with his family or Cas's, that Cas only seems to slide his hand into Dean's as a matter of course. That they never seem to lean their heads on each other's shoulders anymore, the way they used to. He starts noticing things and they won't get the hell out of his head, no matter how much he wants them to.

And he keeps remembering Sam's words, over and over, round his head. You've known each other longer.

And he realises one night, looking around at Sam, Castiel, Anna and Gabriel, all grouped together, that he's got no childhood memory that doesn't include at least one of them, often more-all of them together, often with others of Cas's brothers in the background-and even when he's with girls in those memories, Cas's face is always in the background somewhere-

He can't remember a life before he sat down next to Cas in front of that easel when they were five years old. He can't remember what he'd be going back to.

And that scares the hell out of him.

But whenever he and Cas are together these days, there seems to be a knot in his chest, a constant weight on his shoulders and whenever they go to some art gallery and he sees Crowley, with that stupid aftershave he wears and that smug grin every time he looks at Dean-as if he knows exactly what's going on, goddamnit-and that cold approving look on Naomi's face every time she looks at Cas-and whenever he sees that, Dean feels that crushing weight in his stomach and he never looks at Castiel because he can't bear to see the smile that rises to his face at the sight of them.

And the worst part is he knows sometimes, when he looks up and catches Cas looking at him, staring as if he's trying to see through Dean's skin, that Cas is feeling exactly the same thing.

He's always been able to tell what Castiel's thinking.

And the hardest bit is that when Castiel's art gets noticed, it makes him grin. He reads the reviews in the papers. He likes it when Cas does interviews. He's proud when Cas's art gets shown in a gallery.

And a part of him knows that none of that would have happened if Cas hadn't started hanging around with Crowley and Naomi.

And that's the other worst bit. Because he sees the brightness in Cas's eyes when he gets noticed, the smile at his lips when he gets a good review. He sees the grin on Cas's face when he thinks he matters, and then he starts to see why Cas hangs around Crowley and Naomi, why he spends so much time at the studio, because it gets him somewhere. And Cas wants to get somewhere.

And Dean didn't see it until now, and the words too late are echoing around his brain.

He ignores it and ignores it and ignores it until it explodes.

It's another night when Cas comes home at three in the morning and his clothes are rumpled and Dean gets up to yell at him and this is the time that everything changes.

Because halfway through Dean yelling, all the been waiting up, didn't know where you were he can smell something coming off Cas's clothes, and at first he thinks it's turpentine or paint or something, something he's smelt before, something to do with Cas-

And then he recognizes it and he sees Cas's eyes meet his and narrow as they watch Dean's face change.

He doesn't know if Cas realises that he's just recognized the fact that his boyfriend's covered in the scent of Crowley's aftershave or not, but then his brain seems to have stopped working, so what the hell does he expect?

Cas denies it-while looking anywhere but at Dean, and all Dean can think of is how Cas could never lie, not even when Dean talked him into nicking sweets from that shop when they were kids, and they got caught halfway through-and Dean looks at him.

"Is it true?" he says, when Cas doesn't answer for the second time. "You and Crowley? All these nights, it's been you and Crowley together?"

Castiel looks away and then Dean steps forward. "You've got to level with me, man" and Castiel looks up and Dean knows, just from the look in his eyes, what the truth is, but man, he's got to ask, he's got to hear it.

"Look me in the eye and tell me-" and his voice catches on the words. "You're not sleeping with Crowley."

Castiel opens his mouth-and then looks away and Dean lets his head fall down to the centre of his chest. "Son of a bitch" is what comes out in a whisper because this is it, everything about him and Cas, fracturing into pieces between them.

"Dean-" says Cas and he lifts his head. "Let me explain, I was trying to protect you, I was trying to help you-"

And then Dean's hands fasten at Castiel's collar because what the hell, Cas, what the hell and it takes a second for him to realise he's shouting it.

"I didn't want you to know" says Cas and his eyes are fixed on Dean's and the worst part is that Cas isn't even defending himself. He's just standing there, and looking at Dean with those eyes that have been looking at Dean for his whole damn life.

"How long?" he demands and he half-shakes Cas roughly. "How long's it been going on?"

Castiel falters and Dean stares at him. "Has it been going on the whole time?" he says suddenly. "Ever since you two first met? Has it been going on the whole freaking time?"

"No!" and at this, Castiel's head snaps up. "How can you even think that?"

"What the hell else am I meant to think?" and this cannot be happening because this is something that happens to other people, it doesn't happen to them.

Castiel shakes his head and then says, his voice almost a whisper "Only a few times."

"What?" says Dean because he can't believe what he's hearing.

"I said it happened only a few times" and Castiel looks at him. "You have to believe me, Dean."

Dean looks at him and a part of him can't believe that Cas would have the nerve to ask Dean to believe him after this and another part is too busy trying not to fall apart.

"Dean" and Castiel puts a hand on his cheek and Dean half-throws him off because he doesn't know how the hell Cas dares to try and touch him right now.

"Dean" and Cas's voice breaks halfway through. "I'm still me. I'm still Cas. I'm still your-"

And that's when his voice breaks off because neither of them knows what they are to the other anymore.

They call it a trial break up. Just some time apart. Cas can easily afford to rent his own apartment. Dean can afford to keep up this one.

But both of them know this is way more than that and that it's out of their control.

When Dean tells Sammy and John, they both just stare at him for a moment. And he doesn't cry-he never cries. And then Sam hugs him, and the feel of his brother's arm around his shoulders is something he clings onto for hours.

Bobby shakes his head and rolls his eyes and says you can't trust any of them and Adam, the kid at the mechanic's just shakes his head when Cas stops dropping by and says "You're too good for him" which Dean interprets as untrue but well-meant, and even Ash, the guy at the local bar who always serves them shakes his head, and says "This stuff works itself out."

Dean's having a hard time believing that.

And the biggest surprise is when Gabriel shows up at the door and Dean's too shocked to slam it in his face.

Gabriel just looks at him once he's inside and then he says "Look, I know you're mad at Cassy." Gabriel's never been one for small talk.

Dean looks at him. "That's a freaking understatement."

"No." Gabriel shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows arch. "I know you're pissed at Cassy. But you've got to realise, this isn't him."

"What?"

"Isn't him." Gabriel makes quotation marks with his fingers. Dean's eyes narrow and Gabriel shakes his head.

"Oh, I'm not saying this isn't a total dick move. It is. But Cas isn't a total dick himself. He's just an idiot, sometimes."

Dean looks at him, and wonders if they're even talking the same language. But Gabriel shakes his head, as if he knows he isn't doing a good job.

"Look, when Cassy said he was trying to protect you-" Dean doesn't ask how Gabriel knows this. "He meant it."

Dean blinks. "Meant it?"

Gabriel sighs. "Cassy's always wanted to be his own person. You know? Stand out. Be special, the rest of it. Wanted to matter. Put it down to validation, blah blah blah. But anyway, that's probably why he did it. And he loves you. He's been in love with you since before he knew what the hell love was, for Christ's sake."

Dean shakes his head because really, that's all they've got?

Gabriel sighs. "Look. You always looked after him." At Dean's disbelieving look, he waves a hand in the air. "You did. Back in school, when you were always with some hot little piece and he was always scribbling in that freaking notebook. You always looked after him. And maybe now, he was trying to look after himself? You know, with the whole art thing?"

Dean looks at him. "That's it?" he says and he isn't surprised at how loud his voice is. "That's the only helpful advice you have? Your brother cheats on me and the one freaking excuse you give is that he wanted to stand on his own two freaking feet?"

"No." Gabriel holds up a hand. "Not excuse. Explanation. People always get those two mixed up. It's a burden, being clever."

Dean snorts. "Enough with the freaking monkey talk, Gabriel."

Gabriel shakes his head. "I'm not saying it wasn't a dick move" he repeats, his voice softer this time, staring out of the window. "I'm just trying to explain why he did it." He steals another look at Dean. "He is my brother" he says and Dean looks away. "I know."

There's another moment of silence before Gabriel says "I wouldn't do it to your brother, if that's any consolation."

There's a moment of silence while Dean stares off thinking and only then does he register what the hell Gabriel just said. He spins round, his eyes lighting on the other guy but Gabriel just arches an eyebrow and then says he's got to be going. He gives Dean a hug at the door and then closes it behind him, leaving Dean thinking he's just got the closest thing to an admission of something from Gabriel that he's ever going to.

He goes into the bedroom and takes a look at that art smock. Cas didn't take it with him and Dean can't decide if that makes it better or worse. He just stands and looks at it and suddenly remembers an afternoon with Cas shoving a paintbrush into Dean's hand and daring him to paint something and the splotches of paint that covered the paper, and Cas's laughter, as Dean pulled him onto his knee, draped in that art smock covering that sweater they pulled out of the lost and found box.

It was a valiant effort, Dean Cas had said seriously, and then he'd lifted the paintbrush and painted a streak over Dean's cheeks.

Dean had grabbed him and then their mouths had crashed together and all he'd known had been the smell of paint and Cas's hair in his hands and that art smock, which suddenly seemed to be wrapped around the pair of them.

It was less than three years ago but it seems like another world.

Dean looks at the art smock for a long moment. And all he can think is I liked you better then.

It's two and a half months before they run into each other again. That's the longest they'v ever gone without speaking to each other. Two and a half months of waking up in the night and reaching for Cas and finding nothing. Two and a half months of staring at the TV and trying to ignore that old easel still standing in the corner of the room.

It's been a long two and a half months.

Dean wouldn't even be going to the stupid art exhibit if it wasn't for Sam and Gabriel. But they tell him he has to.

"I know it's not ideal" Sam says, his voice low and Dean tries to ignore Gabriel's hand slipping into his younger brother's. "But he's proud of it. And he wants us to go. And-" He hesitates, and his eyes flicker up and down, taking in Dean's face worriedly before he says slowly. "And you've been spending a lot of time alone lately."

Dean can't argue with that. It's been a lonely two and a half months. And he guesses if it were the other way round, he'd be dragging Sammy out first chance he got.

So he goes, on the condition that he doesn't have to speak to Cas. And Sammy and Gabriel exchange long suffering looks and agree to that.

Of course he ends up speaking to Cas.

It's almost accidental-Sammy and Gabriel congratulate him while Dean stares in the other direction and then Sammy says "And Dean's here" so quickly that Dean knows straight away that the two of them planned the whole thing and makes a mental note to murder Sammy later.

Cas looks at him. "Dean." There's a strange light in his eyes when he looks at him.

Dean nods. "Hey, Cas."

There's a long moment of awkward silence and then Sammy excuses himself and Gabriel, perhaps because Dean's glaring at him. Dean and Cas both look over each other's shoulders and then both speak at the same time.

"I'm glad you're here" says Cas, at the exact same moment as Dean says "Nice exhibit."

They both fall silent again. Cas looks at Dean. "I didn't think you'd want to see me" he says and Dean winces at the raw honesty in the tone, because it's so freaking Cas.

"I didn't" he says, and Castiel nods, as if that's exactly what he expected.

"I was wrong" he says quite simply and Dean wonders if this is Castiel's attempt at an apology. "I'm sorry" and this time his voice is barely above a whisper.

Dean opens his mouth to say something but he doesn't trust himself. Instead, he just turns and finds himself face to face with a painting that Castiel's done of the night sky. It's a sprinkling of stars and clouds and Dean finds himself staring at it, his eyes moving over the colours, the swirling darkness on the canvas. Something about the whole picture seems to ache.

His eyes move to the title. For You're Not There.

His eyes prickle with something and he shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm going for some air" he says abruptly, turning round to walk outside and take the Impala and-drive somewhere. Anywhere. Just alone.

"I'll go, too" says Cas and Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes, because of course Cas wouldn't pick up on anything weird.

It's when they're standing outside, with Dean staring up at the sky and trying not to compare it to Cas's painting, that Castiel says "Dean, I'm not with Crowley."

Dean turns to stare at him. "What?"

"I'm not with Crowley" says Cas and he turns to look at him. "Not the way you think."

Dean shrugs and turns away. If Cas thinks that's all he has to do, he doesn't know Dean too well.

Then Dean remembers that Cas is the person who knows him best and that makes something twist painfully inside his ribs.

"Dean" says Cas and both of their eyes stay fixed on the sky. "I feel regret."

Dean turns to look at him because seriously, this can't be a big lesson for Cas. "You should" he says, and Cas turns to look at him.

"I want to make amends" he says and his voice is low.

Dean stares at him and then Cas's eyes narrow. "It's not working?"

Dean shrugs. "Do you feel better?"

Castiel takes a moment and then shakes his head.

Dean shrugs again. "Me neither."

Castiel swallows. "Dean-" and his voice cracks. "I'm sorry for everything."

Dean looks at him. "For what?" he says and his own voice breaks. "For ignoring me? For letting freaking Crowley screw you?"

"I thought it was the right thing to do, I thought you didn't need to know-"

"Yeah, you always do" and Dean can't look at him now. "You can cram that apology up your ass, Cas, because you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong."

There's a moment of silence and then Cas says "I know." His voice is barely more than a breath. "I'm sorry."

Dean can't look at him. All he can do is stare up at the sky and suddenly, he's remembering nights that he and Cas camped out in their backyards, staring up at the sky, with their arms brushing together, and Cas's eyes always there when Dean turned his head to the side.

"I know" says Cas and Dean remembers that it's not just him that knows what Castiel's thinking. "I remember, too."

Dean shakes his head and turns away. "What happened to you, man?" he says and the words come out far softer than they should.

Castiel looks at him and his voice is very low, and damn, it was a bad idea for Dean to get this close. Because how all he can see are Cas's eyes and hair and all he can see when he closes his eyes is the way those eyes flutter when Dean's kissing him.

"I'm sorry for everything" Cas says and his voice is barely a breath and Dean doesn't think he's ever seen Cas look this raw, not even on the day his father died.

And then he's kissing him. And he's not even sure how it happens or why it happens but all he knows is Cas's mouth grinding into his and his hands in Cas's hair and even though it feels wrong, so wrong, he closes his eyes and loses himself in it, because dammnit, this is him and Cas, this is what he knows. And Cas is kissing him back and for a while that's enough.

It's seconds before they break apart and Cas is gasping for breath, his eyes huge, his hands in Dean's hair. Dean closes his eyes, rather than meet Cas's gaze.

It's a second before Cas speaks. "I don't wish to alarm you" and his voice almost touches Dean's lips. "But I detect a note of forgiveness."

Dean pulls Cas's mouth back to his own and tries to pretend that that's true.

They're already kissing by the time Dean closes the door behind them, and it's a few minutes later when they're in bed, Castiel's skin pressed against his, that Dean's eyes open and all he can see is Crowley and Cas, doing this same thing.

But he pushes it away and grinds his mouth harder into Castiel's, even when it feels wrong. Especially when it feels wrong.

It's fast and hot and messy and after it's over, Dean falls onto his back and wonders why he doesn't feel anything. And wonders why Cas is lying next to him, staring at the ceiling and he isn't ecstatic.

Every night for the past two and a half months, Dean's lain and stared at the ceiling and reached for Cas and he hasn't been there. And now that he's there, it just feels wrong. Wrong and strained and weird and all he can see is what they had and just how badly they screwed it up.

And it's Cas who says it because it's always Cas who says it. "We're not the same, are we?"

And Dean doesn't look at him when he says "No."

Dean doesn't know how long it is-how many hours of lying next to each other, staring up at the ceiling-before Castiel says it.

"I have some information for you" and the way he says it is so Castiel that Dean reaches out to slide an arm around him before stopping abruptly once he remembers what brought them here in the first place.

"Go ahead" he says and he leans back, waiting for whatever it is Cas wants to tell him.

"I'm going away."

Whatever Dean expected, it wasn't that.

Cas explains it. He'll be away for six to seven months. It's over the other side of the country. It's partly touring studios, it's partly visiting artists-and Dean's brain tunes out at that part, because let's face it, he's no artist. That was pretty well established back when they were five. Maybe that's when everything else about him and Cas was established, too, and they just didn't realise it.

Cas'll be away. And Dean will be here.

Dean turns slowly to look at him, and Cas looks back. "That's great for you, Cas" Dean says softly and Castiel's lips twitch in a smile, far smaller than usual. "Thank you."

Dean looks at him and tries to see the five year old boy who looked up at him so solemnly and painted in front of him and told him about his brothers. He tries to see the boy with the eyes he knew better than anything else in the world who he kissed in the back of a car and the boy whose head always leans on his shoulder. He tries to see the boy who always looks to him at the end of every line.

And he doesn't see him. Instead, he sees this Cas. This Castiel, who's about to travel to the other side of the country on his own. This Castiel, who's an artist, an artist, not another one of his brothers. This Castiel, who's no longer constantly worrying about proving himself, because he already has.

This isn't Dean's Castiel and they can't go back.

Dean looks at him for a long moment and he's seen those eyes so many times. So many nights and days and years and months and memories.

And it's Cas who says "This is the last time, isn't it, Dean?"

And Dean looks back and says-because he's never lied to Cas, ever-"Probably."

He knows Gabriel and Sammy have some thing going on. He knows Cas will only be away for six or seven months. He knows they'll probably see each other again.

But somehow, this is still the last time.

And they look at each other and Castiel says "I'm sorry."

And then Dean says "Me, too."

They don't say anything else. They just lie next to each other and wait for the morning to come.

When Cas climbs out of the bed that morning and looks down at Dean, he brushes his forehead with his hand. He just looks at him.

And it's Dean who says "You might want to go before I kidnap you."

Castiel just looks at him. "For what it's worth" he says and the voice is so familiar that Dean has to close his eyes because he's grown up with that freaking voice. "I wish things could be different."

Dean keeps his eyes shut. "So do I."

There's a movement at the end of the bed and Dean opens his eyes to see Castiel looking at the art smock, which is still curled up on the chair. Dean doesn't say anything as Castiel lowers his hand to the material, brushes it over.

Then he says "Keep it." As if Dean would do anything else. Dean raises an eyebrow. "What, like a keepsake? Thought we were past chick flick moments, Cas?"

Castiel looks at him and a strange smile breaks across his lips. For a moment, they just watch each other and then Cas bends and presses his lips to Dean's. And even though a part of him wants to punch him and a part of him wants to drag him back into bed, Dean lets him move away again.

And then Castiel looks at him and says "I can't say goodbye because we'll see each other again."

And the unspoken words hang between them. But not like this.

And Dean knows they won't. Because they can't be the same again, him and Cas. Everything they've been through, everything they were, will be reduced to a few words at Christmas parties, a few nods at weddings. They won't be them, as they are now. This is the last time.

It seems to take Dean forever to open his mouth but finally, he just says "Then...see you later."

That smile is wider for a second and Castiel just looks at him. Dean looks away and hears one more thing crawl out of his mouth. "Good luck."

Castiel just looks at that and Dean snorts. "What, I seem like good luck to you?"

Castiel smiles and says nothing. And then he says quietly "See you later, Dean."

And then he walks to the door, lets his eyes linger on the art smock for a moment and he's gone.

And that's it.

It's hours before Dean gets up and when he does, he walks. He doesn't want to think, he doesn't want to focus-he just walks, in the early morning sunlight. Coffee shops are opening. Places are rumbling into life. And Dean Winchester walks with his hands in his pockets.

He remembers Cas sitting next to him outside school one day, when they were about fourteen. And Cas had shrugged when Dean had asked him which girl he was interested in.

"Yeah, but come on, dude" Dean had said. "There must be one you like more than the others."

Castiel had shaken his head. "They all look the same to me."

Dean had rolled his eyes. "Man, we've got to get you on a couple of dates."

It had been a few seconds later that Castiel had slid him a piece of paper. On it, had been scribbled a quick picture of Castiel and what looked like two small fruits next to him.

Dean had lifted his head and stared at Cas who had smiled. "Two dates" he'd said, pointing.

Dean had looked at him for a long moment and then he'd laughed. He'd laughed until his muscles ached and all he could do was smile.

"Don't ever change" he said and he flung an arm around Castiel's shoulders.

Now, Dean Winchester stops and leans against a fence and closes his eyes and wonders just how freaking stupid that statement would turn out to be. And he wonders if it was Naomi and Crowley who'd taken Cas away or if Cas and Dean would have slowly splintered apart on their own, anyway, and he wonders which option is the worse.

He hears a small cry ahead and narrowing his eyes, realises he's standing by a kids' playground. He's about to move-the last thing he needs is to be mistaken for some pervert- and his eyes settle on two kids, about nine, sitting on the jungle gym. Or one's sitting, with a book in his hands-the other one's got a mini leather jacket and is climbing about all over the place.

"Come on, dude" says Leather Jacket, to Book Guy, tugging at the back of his collar. "Put the book down and play." For the first time, Dean realises that the other kid's dressed in a weird, overlarge coat.

"I'm busy" says the other kid, his eyes glancing up in a quick gesture of exasperation. "You play."

"How can I play without you?" and Leather Jacket grabs Book Guy's shoulder. "Come on" he says, and he folds the edge of the page down gently. "It'll still be there later."

Book Guy looks like he wants to protest but then Leather Jacket tags him in the shoulder and a few seconds later, they're chasing each other around the jungle gym, both screaming with laughter. Only Dean sees the few wistful glances Book Guy gives his book.

He looks at them both and unbidden, a thought creeps into his head. Don't make him into something he's not.

Or rather, don't expect him to stay what he is.

Dean shakes his head and takes one last look at those two kids before starting back for the apartment, with the sun shining brightly overhead.

Sometimes, when he lies awake at night, he thinks of Cas. Sammy asks if he's OK and Gabriel pretends to nuzzle Sammy's shoulder, and Anna tells him she doesn't blame him, maybe it was just time, and John just nods sympathetically at the whole issue-but Dean still thinks of Cas.

Or more specifically, the Cas he used to be.

"Dean" and the voice is low and Dean turns around to see Castiel watching him. "I think I require assistance."

Dean glances down to see Castiel's laces have come undone. He bends down and starts to tie them.

"You can't tie your own laces?" he asks, though he's been hanging around Cas long enough to know that that's true.

Castiel shakes his head and Dean rolls his eyes. "You're nine" he says, though he only learned to tie his last year.

Castiel shrugs and Dean relents, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, come on" he says, already turning away. "Let's play something."

"I wanted to read, Dean-" but Cas doesn't get any further before Dean cuts him off. "Dude, you're allowed fun." He ignores the fact that for Cas, reading is fun, and puts the book down for him. "Come on."

Cas looks annoyed but it's forgotten. Or at least, it's forgotten a few minutes later when they're both racing across a playground, with Cas's fingers loosely intertwined with Dean's, their eyes flickering back and forth, both of them full of colour and light and alive alive alive.

Dean opens his eyes at the memory. He wonders where Cas is right now. If he's still the same Cas he was last time or if he's changed again. If Crowley's made yet another move on him. If Cas still remembers that day.

He knows that Cas is out there. Right now, that's enough.

Except for one last thing.

Dean slides the art smock off the chair from the end of the bed and pulls it back up. He'll put it away, tomorrow. He'll put it somewhere where he doesn't see it every day, where it's not in his dreams every night. But tonight, he wraps it around the pillow next to him. It's still blotched with stains, stains of paint left by Castiel's fingers.

He can still see Castiel's eyes, hear his voice. Dean. Just his name, Dean.

Dean takes one last look at the art smock and then shoves it under the pillow out of sight.

He turns over and closes his eyes. He already knows he won't get much sleep-seriously, they should sell your boyfriend and you breaking up as a cure for freaking narcolepsy-but he closes them anyway.

In his mind's eye, he sees two kids, one in a trench coat, one in a jacket. One dark-haired, one lighter-haired. One talking, one listening. Two kids walking. Sometimes, hand in hand.

Dean knows Cas is out there somewhere. He takes a slow breath in and wonders if Cas is breathing at the exact same time. And he closes his eyes and even though he knows all the reasons it had to be like this, he wants Cas there next to him, the way it's always supposed to be.

He thinks of those two little kids in his head, two little kids running, laughing at the top of their lungs with everything in front of them and lets his eyes stay closed, lets the memory play over and over again behind them. He knows that it doesn't matter what he does with the art smock. He knows that whenever he closes his eyes, he'll see that memory. The fall leaves crunching under his feet. Breath tearing at his throat. Cas's hand in his.

And like every thought of him and Cas these days, the memory stays tucked inside his mind. It doesn't matter that they're gone, that those days are over now, that they'll never be back. They're all still there, those colour-smeared memories, still there, tucked away inside Dean Winchester's head, wrapped up in an old, paint-stained art smock, waiting to be played again and again.

And I need you now and you're not around

To fall to pieces in my hands again

Broken when I stand again

I never learn this lesson right

But I want you here-The Pains of Being Pure At Heart.

So, er-leave a review if you liked it. Promise I'll write a humorous Destiel soon to make up for that truckload of angst. (Maybe I can blame the Pains of Being Pure At Heart for being so awesome and writing such brilliantly sad songs.)

Anyway, leave a review!