Castiel sat on the armrest of the old fauteuil. Through the weathered curtain, the neon sign of the motel casted its red light on the two sleeping men. Sam slept on his side, facing away. His feet poked from under the blanket. Castiel wondered if he ever dreamed of proper beds. The angel shifted his attention to Dean. The older brother lay on his stomach, his arms and legs splayed as if he meant to claim the entirety of the space as his on. He faced Castiel, his head resting on the pillow, a gun resting under the pillow, no doubt. The angel observed his smooth brow, his straight nose, the angle of his jaw… the curvature of his slightly parted lips. He sighed. This was hardly a gift…

"Castiel." God called to him.

"Father? Where are we? Where are Amara and Dean?"

God shook his head gently. Don't you worry about them. Castiel nodded.

"You've proven yourself again and again." The angel shook his head.

"I've been nothing but a disappointed, Father."

God smiled. This is for me to decide.

"I want to give you something." God held out his open hand. In his palm rested a small luminous gem.

"What is it?"

Good shook his head, laughing gently. You never listen, do you?

"Just take it. It'll give you want you want the most."

And taken he had. The gem had melted in his hand, travelled to the seat of his grace and fused with it. It had felt its warmth, its kindness. Yet he hadn't felt the same. No change at all. Or so he had thought. Coming back to the bunker and finding Dean alive, he believed for a moment that this had been his deepest yearning. The gem had brought Dean back to life. However, he had found out what his wish truly had been when he had embraced his friend.

"Dean!"

Castiel hugged his friend. They had embraced many times before, but it had never felt like this. The warmth of Dean's body set his skin ablaze, his smell gave him goosebump and the feeling of his breath on his neck brought forth thoughts the pizza man might have had. He reluctantly broke the embrace, his entire body electrified. He tried to hide his embarrassment by focusing on Mary.

What he desired most. Had God known. Had his gift been a poisoned apple, a form of retribution for everything Castiel had done? He would have gladly taken Hell over this agony. Night after night, since the beginning of this case, he had sat in the dark observing Dean. God only knew how creepy he looked. Come morning, he would lie, saying that he had done this or that, research this database, questioned that redeye shift medic… The boys would believe him and get on with the tasks of the day. Dean would thank him, clap him on the back unknowing of the fact that his very presence was torture to Castiel: a torture he welcomed, day after day, with no possibility of redemption.

Sam walked in the room to grab the last of their bags. Dean sat at the table, reassembling the gun he had just cleaned. He looked up.

"All good to go?"

Sam grabbed the heavy duffle bag and nodded. Dean got up.

"Cas?"

Sam gestured to the car with his chin.

"Speaking of Cas…"

Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam closed the distance between them, dropping his voice to a conspiracy level.

"Is it me or has Cas been weird since the whole Amara-God thing?"

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Cas is weird. That's what he does."

Sam shook his head and got closer.

"That's not what I mean… Dean, Cas has been lying to us."

"What do you mean?"

Sam furtively glanced behind him.

"You know how he's been checking in on all those people while we slept?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well none of it checks out. I've looked up all of those people; they either don't exist or have never heard of us or Castiel."

"Maybe he's wiped their memory clean, MIB style." Dean grinned. Sam sighed.

"Dean. I've been keeping an eye on him for the last two days. He doesn't go out at night."

"What do you mean?"

Sam pinched his lips and raised his eyebrows.

"He's been sitting right there." He pointed at the couch. "Every night he just sits there."

"What? Why?"

Sam shook his head.

"I have no idea. I've set up a camera. He just… stares."

Dean grimaced.

"Well that's not creepy at all."

Sam nodded.

"Anyway, let's go. You can always ask him when we get home." Sam made for the door.

"Why me?" asked Dean.

Sam stopped in the door and turned his head towards his brother.

"Because he stares at you."