AN: My entry for bookkbaby's 5k Fic Contest on tumblr :)

sorry i suck at titles though, couldn't think of a better one

Consciousness comes to him slowly, in stages, leaving him groggy and disoriented. The first thing he's consciously aware of is that he feels cold. Not in and of itself terribly unusual, so ignores it for now. The next thing seems much more important. He feels empty. Not empty in an emotionless or broken sort of way. Empty in that there's something that should be there that's just missing and he's not sure what it is.

Castiel frowns at that before blinking his eyes open, finally fully awake. It's bright but he quickly adjusts. When he sees the man a few feet away, he understands the sudden emptiness.

He finds himself in a hospital bed, hooked up to various IV concoctions and humming machines. Off to the side sits Dean, face buried in his hands. Dean's presence is rarely able to surprise him. Their profound bond, as he had once called it, was due to Dean's almost constant reaching out to him. Prayer or longing or some combination, it was a constant tether tying the angel to his human. Even in weakened states, he had always been able to feel it humming in the background.

And now, it was simply gone.

He squints in confusion, trying to recall the last time he had found himself lacking Dean's quiet presence.

Oh.

"Dean," he chokes out. His throat is dry and gives his voice a raspy quality. But it definitely gets Dean's attention. His head snaps up and their eyes meet, mirroring each other's concern.

They both find their voices at the same time.

"Baby, you okay-"

"I'm human-"

And they both lose them together, too.

Cas is sure he misheard or that Dean misspoke. Replace "baby" with "buddy" and it is a very Dean thing to say. Either way, he can feel his nose scrunching in confusion.

Dean visibly swallows. "What?"

Ignoring whatever he did or did not hear, he opts to focus on something that makes sense. Namely, Dean's question.

"I appear to be human. I don't feel any grace." Dean doesn't react, so he decides to add, "That's probably why I'm injured enough to require medical attention."

There's a hint of panic in Dean's eyes, but he's more than well versed in pushing it aside. "You uh... you've been human for years, Cas."

He can't help the slight gasp that escapes. No, that can't be right. Yet he knows Dean wouldn't lie to him. He grimaces (though he tries not to) and asks, "How long, exactly?"

"Five years next month."

"Oh."

A clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, both men unsure where to go from here. Five years to an angel is nothing, less than the blink of eye really. But five years to a human is, if not substantial, certainly worthy of note.

Pragmatic as ever, Castiel decides to ignore the issue of his missing memories. There are more important things to deal with. "I'm in a hospital."

Dean laughs slightly at that, completely without mirth. "Yeah, that'll happen when you get hit upside the head and thrown down a flight of steps."

As if on cue, pain blooms from the back of his head. It startles him that he hadn't noticed it before, but there is a definite throbbing making itself known. It's by no means unbearable. It is, however, distracting.

Noticing Cas' new found discomfort, Dean jumps to his feet. "I'm getting the doctor." Before Cas is able to stop him, he disappears into the hallway.

"How are we feeling, Mr. Novak?"

Cas squints at Dean for clarification, but the man merely shrugs. He does as well. "My head hurts."

"Well, let's see what we can do about that."

The doctor is a young woman with a calming demeanor. Even as she examines him, looking into his eyes and gingerly feeling the wound at the back of his head, he feels himself relaxing slightly. So much so that he barely registers Dean's near constant movement. He shifts on his feet, chews his bottom lip, crosses and then uncrosses his arms, starts to pace but stops himself.

"Everything looks alright. But I hear you're having memory issues?"

"Yes. It seems I have forgotten the last five years." Possibly more, he adds silently. He only knows that's how long he's been human. The events leading up to that are also gone, so it may in fact be much more that he's lost.

"Memory loss isn't unusual with this type of head trauma."

"Is it permanent?" Dean asks. Cas frowns at how strained he sounds.

"I'm not going to sugar coat it - it may be. We'll have to see how it goes. Now that you're up, Mr. Novak, I'd like to keep you here for at least another day to monitor you. Your memory may start to come back, but there's really nothing we can do to help that." She gives a sympathetic look to him and then to Dean. After a quick explanation of how to work the pain meds and call the nurse, she's out the door.

Tension builds between them in the silence she leaves behind. It looks as though Dean is about to say something, but he's saved the trouble by his phone ringing. He sighs in relief before answering. "You almost here?"

No preamble, just right into the thick of things. Must be Sam.

"Yeah, we're still in the hospital... Yes... Nothing... I said nothing, Sammy, leave it... No! I'll uh, I'll meet you at the car... No, I can fill you in on the way. We're ganking this sonuvabitch ASAP... Alright, be down in fifteen." As he hangs up the phone, he gives Cas an almost smile. "Sam's almost here, we'll take care of the lamia bitch who put you in here."

"If I can offer any assistance-"

"Like fucking hell you are. You're hurt, and you're gonna rest up. Sam and I can take care of it."

He frowns but doesn't push the matter. Although he feels fine he has yet to actually try standing up. "Why isn't Sam already here?"

Dean shrugs. "Good question. You've been in here a couple days. I gave him a heads up to haul ass out here, but he was a couple states over and apparently took his sweet ass time."

Realization hits him. "You don't hunt with Sam anymore?"

Dean looks uncomfortable and won't meet his eyes. "Not so much, no."

He thinks over all the times in the past when the brothers didn't hunt together. All of them were due to fighting, and he worries that trend must be repeating itself now. "Are you upset with him?"

"What? Huh?" Dean seems genuinely confused. Then his eyes soften just a bit. "No, no it's nothing like that." He waves a hand dismissively. "Sam's just been busy with Eileen. They're not hunting much these days, anyway, but I figured we could use the backup."

"Oh." A pause. "Who's Eileen?"

If possible, Dean's expression drops even more than it had when he first woke up. "Sam's girlfriend."

"Oh." He leaves it at that. Asking questions about things he should clearly know seems to distress Dean and he doesn't want that. A sort of shame fills him. He can't help physically and even mentally he is less capable than he should be. Whatever first prompted Dean to hunt with him now, well, it'll surely come to an end.

He avoids looking at Dean's face, not wanting to see or guess at the emotions playing across his features. Instead he focuses on taking in the rest of him, making sure he's at least unhurt. Still firm muscle with just the hint of softness at his midsection. His stance is weary, but he suspects that's his fault rather than being due to any particular ailment. Wrinkled clothes, no doubt from sleeping in the hospital chair (which warms Castiel's heart just a bit), but new and untorn.

Something flashes from Dean's hand as he brings it up to rub his temples.

Oh.

It takes no more than a second to register which finger on which hand that simple gold band sits. A wedding ring. Somewhere in the past five (or six or seven... at this point he's hesitant to find out the exact number) years, Dean has gotten married.

There's a part of him, a weak, hopeful part, that makes him hold his breath for a second. His left thumb probes the base of his ring finger. It finds nothing. No matching piece.

His heart beats erratically in his chest, which he supposes is better than it stopping altogether. He always thought that's what would happen when Dean finally found someone. That his heart would just give out. As an angel, at least, he wouldn't have needed it.

"Look," Dean casually interrupts, oblivious to Cas' inner turmoil. "I should go meet Sam, he should be about here. You stay put, I'll be back as soon as I can." He gets up to leave. He hesitates a moment as he passes by. There was a second when he seemed to want to lean over, but caught himself and stopped. Instead he reaches out a hand and quickly pats Cas' shoulder.

Cas just stares dumbly at the ring, hoping it's some sort of hallucination or trick of the light and will disappear.

It doesn't, but Dean does.

He stares at the bland hospital walls for what must be hours. With some difficulty, he's able to keep from dwelling on those thoughts which would do nothing more than depress him.

At some point a nurse comes in with some food. Runs through some tests. Changes his bandages. They go through some questions, the nurse trying to help him jog his memory. Cas has so few answers and the nurse knows nothing that's not written on his chart. Frustrated, he goes back to staring at nothing once he leaves.

His body needs rest, but the idea of sleeping worries him. Sleeping, as a human anyway, means dreaming. Dreaming means his mind will call up all the images he's able to suppress while still awake. So he stubbornly clings to consciousness until exhaustion pulls him under.

Dreaming was a unique part of the human experience. It had always fascinated him, pleased him even when it'd first happened. Now, though...

All he sees is Dean with some nameless person. Happy. In love. Married. It's with a certain degree of anguish that he witnesses such simple acts as Dean sharing a home with someone. Living the "apple pie life" he had once started with Lisa so long ago.

Later, he must sense the amount of time that has passed since Dean left. As personally distressing as it is to imagine Dean's life with another, it at least gives him the comfort of knowing Dean is happy. It's so much worse to imagine him fighting the lamia that injured him. So much more painful to play out all the ways the hunt could go wrong.

It's been too long, Dean or Sam must have gotten hurt.

No, he tries to reason through the cloud of sleep. He doesn't know why things are taking so long. They may have had to go far. Cleaning up the body will take time. But his mind is too clever and cruel in the pictures it paints.

Castiel startles awake, a slight whimper escaping him. He's disoriented, forgetting for a moment where he is or why. There's a warm weight to his left, something solid and warm pressing against him. He has to blink a few times before anything makes sense.

Dean is slumped over the side of the bed, face buried in the blankets tangled around Cas' legs. His hand looks like it might have been reaching for his but decided maybe the effort wasn't worth it. Too tired to reason with himself otherwise, Cas takes Dean's hand. He holds it tight, rubbing the back of Dean's knuckles until he falls back asleep.

This time, at least, he doesn't dream.

There's an orange glow in the room when he next awakens. His eyes adjust to the early morning light pouring through the windows. Automatically, he looks around for Dean. But no, it's the other Winchester who sits in the corner of the room and plays on his phone.

"Sam."

The man's head snaps up and he smiles warmly, phone put away and forgotten. "Hey Cas, how you feeling?"

He hesitates for a moment. If this were Dean, he would lie and say he feels fine. But it isn't, so he doesn't have to. "My head is still in a great deal of pain, as are my ribs. I believe they are bruised. The pain medication is helping considerably."

Sam sighs. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner. I thought Dean was being a drama queen about it, so now I feel really bad I didn't believe him."

Castiel wants to ask about Dean, about a lot of things really, but settles on something safe. "The lamia?"

"Dead. Dean probably stabbed the thing a hundred times. A little excessive, but I guess he had some energy to work off." He rolls his eyes. They both know it's in affection.

This isn't a conversation he wants to have, not really, but what's the alternative? Have it with Dean? That's a completely unappealing idea. So he screws his eyes shut and forces himself to ask, "Where is Dean? Is he speaking with... did he go to call his wife?"

A pause. "What?" Sam asks dumbly.

"Or... er... husband?"

"What?" he repeats.

"I, uh... I saw Dean wearing a wedding band."

Sam's eyes automatically flick to Cas' left hand. The smallest trace of a frown before he rolls his eyes and mutters, "My brother is a fucking idiot." He clears his throat. "Dean mentioned you were having some memory issues?" Not really a question, because obviously he has just demonstrated that.

"Yes. I don't recall becoming human. Again. And when he spoke of... Eileen?" he pauses to confirm the name. "When he mentioned her, I did not recognize the name."

"I thought he got over this shit years ago," Sam mutters to himself. "I don't know what's crawled up Dean's butt, but you need to talk to him about this."

Which is of course when Dean makes an appearance, two cups of coffee in hand. He sees Cas and tenses slightly. "Sorry, didn't think you'd be up so I didn't get you anything-"

Sam stands abruptly and pats Dean on the shoulder. "You know what, I'm gonna go get some air. I'll be back in a bit. You two discuss what you're gonna do about..." he waves vaguely at Cas and the medical equipment, "all this."

He grabs one of the coffees and with Dean's back to him, he mouths to Cas, "Talk to him. Seriously."

And then they're alone with their unease.

"Look, Cas-"

"Dean, I-"

They stop. Dean's eyes dart around the room and refuse to land on Cas' face. Alright, it seems he'll have to go first. "I saw your wedding ring," he blurts out.

Dean finally meets his eyes as his face goes bright red. He looked so guilty that Cas couldn't help but wonder if he knew. Knew how Cas felt, had always felt. But of course he must know. It's been years. Clearly it had come up, and he had been dreading the awkwardness of having to deal with it all again.

"Cas, I'm... I'm sorry. I..." He looks like he wants to run. Turn around and never come back. It must say something to how poorly Castiel handled things in the past if Dean can't even stand to have this conversation.

He's so busy wallowing in self-pity that he almost misses the rest of what Dean says.

"I know you can do better and it's probably like, some shit awful way to wake up, realizing you're stuck with me. Some god awful joke that you're human and hitched to some drop out loser and..." He must realize he's babbling, because he takes a deep breath and stops. "I'm sorry, is all."

Castiel loses all concept of time as he tries to process what he just heard. With something akin to awe, he manages to ask, "You and I are married?"

"Yeah. Like, three years now." He shifts uncomfortably, his right hand reaching across to play with the wedding band resting on his left. A nervous habit, it seems, that he's picked up.

A few moments pass as the weight of that revelation starts to sink in. He's married to Dean Winchester. Dean married him. Dean, presumably, loves him. The smile that finally breaks out on his face is truly radiant.

And it only seems to terrify Dean more.

"What?" he asks gruffly.

Instead of answering, he pulls Dean down and kisses him. It's short and chaste, but even that brief touching of lips speaks of familiarity. Yes, he has done this before.

He doesn't let Dean escape far. They're only about a foot apart, Dean still leaning over the hospital bed and licking his lips like he's trying to savor that kiss. Cas tries not to let that idea get him too carried away.

"Where's my ring?" he demands almost petulantly. He doesn't mean it that way, but he's too excited for patience.

"Oh." Dean starts sifting through his pockets before he finds the simple gold band. "Doctors took it off when we got here, had to do x-rays." Shyly, he starts to slide it onto Cas' finger. "Kept it safe for you, though. In case you wanted it back."

The scowl he gives Dean at the very notion that he would not accept such a gift from Dean (for the second time, apparently) does little more than make Dean chuckle. Possibly because Castiel is too busy staring at the ring, right back home on his hand.

Like the kiss, it feels familiar and good and right.

Without thinking, he scoots over on the bed. An expectant look at Dean is all it takes for him to climb in with him. There's not nearly enough room for two grown men, but they make due.

As Cas settles into his embrace. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why? You kidding? You were a freakin' angel, Cas. You could do so much better than me. And I don't mean, like, find a better person. I mean, yeah I kinda do, you could definitely find someone better than me. I'm kind of an asshole. But you could literally do better things than get yourself saddled to some shitty excuse for a human being."

"Dean Winchester." It takes him a few seconds to calm down at the very idea that there could be someone or something more important than the man in front of him. He wants to lecture Dean about what he's just said. Tell him that he has loved Dean since quite possibly the first moment he laid eyes on him in Hell. That there has never been and will never be anything in Creation that he would chose over Dean. But he has the feeling he has said all of it before. He opts for the more succinct version. "In the words of your brother, you are an idiot."

A soft chuckle. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"What did you think I would do?"

"I dunno, cut and run maybe? Seems like a pretty good out..."

"Do you think so little of me?"

Dean looks absolutely ashamed. "No, not really. But I kinda think that little of me, so..."

In an effort to cut off that train of thought, Cas clasps their hands together, left hand in left hand for no other reason than to see their rings together. "Tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me everything."

So he does. About how Castiel finally and irrevocably became human. About trying to find out where he fit in the Winchesters' lives. About them finally getting over themselves and getting together. About how Dean proposed to him in a barn in Pontiac, Illinois. About a Vegas wedding where they only invited five people. About years of hunting together and navigating through all the shit that's come since.

All the while, it sounds like a story that he's heard before. One that he used to know intimately, but that's currently hiding behind a locked door. He suspects that in time it'll all come back to him. In the meantime, he looks forward to rediscovering everything.

Cas notices in an offhand way that Sam hasn't returned. Just as well. He must have sensed that he and Dean needed the time.

Eventually they fall into silence, just enjoying holding each other.

"There's something I still don't understand." He waits until he has Dean's attention. "The nurse and doctor both call me Mr. Novak."

"Yeah, uh, they think you're Jimmy. Things are easier that way. Me and Sam are supposed to be dead, remember? Last thing we need is the actual Feds snooping around insurance claims made by a 'Mr. Winchester.'"

"Mr. Castiel Winchester?" He still can't help the hint of awe that accompanies actually saying that out loud. "I like the sound of that."

Dean pulls Cas in close, tucking his head in the crook of his neck. "Yeah, me too."