The sun had long since gone down, the time on the digital clock next to his bed told Dean it was a quarter after two. For the past few hours, he'd been sitting on the edge of his mattress wallowing in self-loathing followed by self-doubt and then a nervewracking mixture of both. Soar from being hunched over so long, he finally decided to lay down. It felt good to stretch out his back like that, his eyes closing the second that his head hit the mattress.

Dean was exhausted, but pictures of a horny angel kept plaguing his mind. He furiously rubbed at his eyelids, trying to get Castiel out of his head. It didn't work out too well for him.

Wiping his hand down the rest of his face, Dean sat back up with his eyes still closed and his elbows resting on his knees. He took a deep breath.

"Alright Cas. If you can hear me through whatever weird angel shit you've got going on, I'm sorry," he said. After a moment, he opened his eyes to look around the room. Nobody had appeared like he'd hoped. "Come on, man, you're welcome to come back here. You're probably just standing in some street staring at passing cars."

Nothing.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, deciding on a different approach. "Alright, fine. You want the old fashioned way?" He got more comfortable in his bed, kicking his feet back up and resting against the back of his headboard. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass back down here."

The room was still empty.

Giving up, Dean pulled the covers over his legs and settled into bed. His eyelids weren't heavy, but his body felt exhausted. After Castiel had left, he ended up taking a cold shower, not wanting to finish himself off while thinking about a guy.

No, a voice in the back of his head reproached. Angel. Castiel is an angel. A wavelength.

Forcing himself to close his eyes, he tried to get some sleep, to ignore his damn brain announcing how big of an asshole he was. But when he finally got rid of that voice, a loud ringing startled him. He jumped, his eyes wide open, immediately moving to stare at his cellphone.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he reached for the device and stared at the screen. Bobby.

"Hello?"

"It took a hell of a lot longer than I thought it would, but I finally found somethin'."

Confused, Dean frowned. "What?"

"Your angel problem, idjit."

"Oh... Uh, yeah, what is it?"

"Apparently that Castiel, he's your Guardian Angel."

"My what?"

"It's a bunch of bull crap if you ask me, but it's the only thing I can find in these damn books," Bobby said. "Everyone's got their own fairy godmother."

"You're kidding me."

"I wish I were. Listen to this; some of them go rogue and ruin poor Cinderelly's life."

"What? Why?"

"You think I'd know that?" scoffed Bobby. From the other end, Dean could hear shuffling, and then Bobby said, "Sometimes these 'angels' go as far as to kill 'em."

"Is there a way to get rid of those dicks?"

"Well, you could smite them before they turn on ya."

"How are you supposed to destroy a Terminator with wings?"

"An Angel Blade."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "An Angel Blade," he repeated.

"Every angel carries one. If you wanted to get it, you'd have to trick one into giving it to you. There are some cases where the guardian has actually given their blade to the sucker in their charge, but I don't think this Castiel of yours is going to just hand you a weapon."

"Whoa Bobby, I don't want to kill him," Dean said. "I just want him to get back into Heaven."

"What? You don't want to- you're tellin' me I searched night and day to get you this information and you don't even want to kill the bastard?"

"He's not a bad guy."

Bobby grunted. "Just make sure next time you ask for somethin', I can actually get it for you."

"Right."

The line went dead. Sighing, Dean set the phone back onto his nightstand and stared at the digital alarm clock. 2:40 a.m. He rubbed at his face, taking a minute to soak in another self-loathing bath. Then he slowly rested his head down onto his pillows and closed his eyes.

⛥⛥⛥⛥⛥

Rays of sunshine peaked in through Dean's half closed blinds, tapping his eyelids to inform him that it was time to wake up. He raised his arm to wipe the sleep away from his eyes, only to pull away and see a man looming above him. In a matter of milliseconds, he had grasped the shotgun from under his pillow, cocked it, and aimed the barrel at the intruder.

It took him a moment to veer away from his instinctive side and to recognize the man as Castiel. He wiped his hand down his face.

"Damn it, Cas, how many times do I have to say it?" Dean asked, putting the safety back on. "It's just creepy!" He slipped the gun back where he'd taken it from.

"You said I was allowed in your home," was all Castiel said.

Dean paused. "Uh... Yeah, I did."

"I came back."

"I get that."

"Dean, did you perhaps call me here because you were lonely?"

"What? No. I was just telling you not to be so childish."

Castiel frowned. "I do not find my reactions to be childish." He paused, his eyes momentarily straying away from Dean's. "As I understand, humans often feel 'heartbroken' when their loved one does not return the sentiment."

"Cas," Dean breathed out. "You, you're, I just- sex is sex. I thought you were just giving in to a physical attraction, not that there were any real feelings involved."

"I understand."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean slowly stood up. "I'm, uh..." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm going to get dressed."

Castiel nodded, watching Dean grab a fresh change of clothes and head off to the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, an angel and a man separated by a thin wall. It was weird, how Dean didn't feel as awkward as he probably should have been in this situation. He'd never really been attracted to a man before. Sure, there were people like Dr. Sexy who was, for lack of a better word, just plain sexy. But everyone was attracted to Dr. Sexy, right? The guy had sensible shoes for crying out loud and if that didn't make him appealing worldwide then Dean didn't know what did.

Then there were random guys on the street that he would, on occasion, catch himself checking out. He never really paid much attention to those incidents. The urge had never been strong enough for him to act on, so he figured that if he didn't need to get another dude in bed then he was just a straight guy that could appreciate fellow good looking man.

Apparently not because there had been nothing he craved more than Castiel's fingers threading through his hair, pulling him close, grinding against him- just the touch of Cas. It was ethereal, just like the angel himself.

He really felt like an idiot for not discovering his bisexuality sooner.

Yeah, maybe it wasn't ideal. Maybe his father would've been repulsed by his own son had he known anything about it, but Dean would be damned if he wasn't going to take this information like a man. So he was a little bit gay. Whatever. It's not like it's the worst thing that could've happened to him. There are definitely worse things out there.

And if it meant he has twice the chance of getting laid? Hell yeah.

Dean came out of the bathroom clean shaven, feeling pretty good about himself. He had changed into his regular attire (some old flannel left unbuttoned, black shirt, blue jeans), his hair was still damp from the shower and his confidence had skyrocketed.

Only to plummet back down when he saw Castiel still waiting for him in the hall.

The angel took note of the outfit, furrowing his eyebrows as an initial reaction. He looked from Dean's shoes to his face, squinting his eyes and tilting his head.

"It's my day off," Dean explained, trying to sound casual. He actually wished he did have to go in to work just so he wouldn't have to spend a whole day in awkward silence with an angel that he almost had sex with the night before. "I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I was going to go grocery shopping instead." He carefully pushed past Castiel to get back into his room. Once inside, he took his phone from the nightstand and slipped it into his pocket.

"I'll go with you."

Turning back to Castiel, Dean gave him a questioning look. Then, with his expression softening, he huffed out a laugh. Shaking his head, he moved out of the bedroom and down the stairs, not one looking behind him to the angel following. The house and car keys, residing on the same chain, sat idly on the dining room table. Dean snatched them up, swinging them around his finger on his way out the door.

Outside, Castiel stared at the black car parked on the curb with such an intensity that Dean realized this was the first time he'd actually seen it. Well, Dean mused as he locked the front door, actually seen it firsthand. He had to keep reminding himself that this was his Guardian Angel, and that he'd been with Dean since birth. Which was... Kind of a creepy thought, in all honesty.

"You like her?" Dean asked, coming to stand next to Castiel on the sidewalk.

Castiel nodded.

"That's a 1967 Chevrolet Impala," he said. He walked up to the car, stopping at the driver's side to pat the top of her gently. "327 four barrel, 275 horses. Near perfect condition. Baby's the only car I've ever needed and after so many years and a few accidents, she still runs like a charm." He smiled at the exterior before seating himself inside.

Slowly, Castiel walked up to the car. He took a moment to look at her body shape, which only made Dean's chest fill with annoying cotton balls. Really, this fuzziness in his stomach was something that needed to disappear as soon as possible. It was not an enjoyable feeling.

Yet, when Castiel carefully opened the door to the passenger's side and lowered himself down, Dean figured that maybe he could endure it a little longer. Just as long as he could see an angel admiring all the hard work he'd put into fixing Baby up again and again. She was the one thing he could always look back on and know he actually did something right.

"You care very deeply for this car," Castiel stated once Dean got her going.

"There's so much history behind her," he said. "She's been there for me through everything."

"I know."

There was a hitch in Dean's breathing. He glanced over to Castiel, but the angel was staring at the radio knobs with the same amount of concentration he had when he was watching the Impala from afar. Wetting his lips, Dean quickly looked back to the road in front of him. Swiftly, he reached over and turned the music up, trying to dissipate the uncomfortable silence.

Castiel reached for the volume control. He turned it down and then back up, then with a push of the button stopped the tape that was playing and turned it to a radio station. Disproving of the song, he switched it to a different one.

"Hey, no, whoa-" Dean extended his arm, blocking the angel's hand. "What do you think you're doing touching a man's radio like that?"

Arm hanging in the air, Castiel turned to look at him. "I'm curious as to what the other buttons do," he said.

"So you're just going to press random buttons and cross your fingers?" Dean asked, glancing over to the angel with furrowed eyebrows. He took his hand back, watching as Castiel slowly did the same.

"That was the general idea."

"Dude," Dean said, "you don't just do that. Driver picks the music. It's a universal rule."

"I don't understand."

Dean rolled his eyes. He leaned backwards, reaching his arm around the seat to snatch a bag of cassette tapes from the back. He shoved the bag into his lap. "Here, just pick a damn tape and stick with it."

All of the different tapes ended up distracting Castiel the rest of the way. He examined each one, read all the labels, and ran his fingers across the surface of every individual tape until Dean pulled Baby into a parking lot.

On the way in, Dean stooped down to grab a handheld basket. He looked over to Castiel.

"Try not to cause any trouble," he said. "These are people, not hunters or angels or demons or anything like that. They don't know about the supernatural."

"I understand that, Dean."

"And that means you can't just fly off, okay? People will notice."

"You've told me this before, Dean."

"Can't be too sure with you."

Dean swore he saw Castiel roll his eyes at that statement. It was strange to see such a human reaction on such a celestial being.

As they were walking down the aisle, Dean was trying to remember what he really needed from the store. He knew they needed more milk, and he definitely knew that there was a substantial lack of pie in the house. He made a beeline for the pastries, mind set on grabbing a whole pie (because he freaking deserved it) when he spotted two familiar women walking their way.

He smiled at them, a little surprised to actually bump into Jo and Ellen Harvelle at the grocery store. Neither of them returned the joyful expression.

"Long time no see, kid," Dean greeted once they got close enough. He ruffled the shorter girl's hair, grinning at the sister he never had.

She swatted his hand away. "I'm not a kid," Jo said, patting her blonde hair back into place.

"Right." He looked up to the older woman, who was giving Castiel an awkward sideways stare. "So, you two doing your Sunday shopping?"

She took her eyes off of the angel, stepping closer to Dean. "Look," she said, voice low. "We didn't want to have to ask you this, but everyone else is so busy these days..."

Suddenly, Dean's expression hardened. "What do you need?"

The older woman looked back to Castiel awkwardly.

Dean shook his head. "He's fine. He knows about everything."

"A hunter?" Jo inquired skeptically. She made eye contact with Castiel, narrowing her eyes at him.

All he did in response was squint and tilt his head at her.

"Kind of," Dean said. "It's a long story, but you can trust him."

Jo rolled her eyes, looking back to Dean. "It's for a case."

"You need me for a case?" Dean glanced over to Castiel, who was staring right back at him. He turned his attention back to the Harvelle's. "You're a pair of the toughest hunters I know." He paused. "Unless..."

"It's not a group job," Ellen said. "Don't go worrying 'bout that, boy."

"Then what's the problem?"

"We already promised our help to another guy a few towns over," she said. "We're leaving today, but we just heard news about five deaths in one home. All of them were eaten alive in their backyard."

"A Wendigo?" Dean asked.

Jo glanced at her mother. "That's what we thought at first, too," she said. "But there were no scratch marks, and those things rarely leave Michigan and Minnesota anyway.

"They were stacked up neatly on top of each other in a dog pile," Ellen told him.

"Could just be Hannibal at it again," Dean said.

"There was bear fur at the scene, but their bodies were mutilated first by knife," said Ellen.

"After thinking it was a wendigo, we thought it could have been a rugaru, but witnesses report seeing a creature flying away from the family's backyard."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What? Why haven't we heard of this sooner?" He glanced to Castiel.

"It's all over the news," Jo said.

"Yeah, maybe the news channel," Dean scoffed. "Does anyone put anything useful in newspapers anymore?"

"Don't act like you read the Sunday papers, boy."

"I do!"

Castiel nodded his head. "I distinctly remember him skimming over the comic section at least once in his lifetime."

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but closed it immediately, just staring at Castiel along with Jo and Ellen. "Dude," he said.

Castiel tilted his head.

Jo shook her head, looking back at Dean. "If you can't handle this, I'm sure there are other hunters somewhere who would be willing to man up and take the job."

"It's right here in town if that makes you feel any better," Ellen said.

"Great. You hear that, Cas? Our neighbor's a flying, man-eating werebear."

"Will you do it or not?" Jo asked.

His eyes trailed over to Castiel. The angel just watched him in that abnormally intense way he always did, so Dean turned to look back at Ellen and Jo. He nodded.

Ellen frowned. "You don't have to do this."

"You're family," Dean said. "It's what we do."

Quietly, Jo said, "We're running late, and we still have to get a few more things."

"Right. Good luck, boys," Ellen said, though she narrowed her eyes a little bit at Castiel before turning around and stalking off.

Jo smiled at Dean, gave Castiel a suspicious half smile, and then followed behind her mother. He watched them until they disappeared around the next aisle.

Looking longingly at the pie, Dean sighed and turned to Castiel. "Let's go grab a bite."

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened to shopping?" he asked, following Dean back toward the door.

"That can wait 'til next week, Cas." He dropped the basket down with all the others as they walked outside. "We've got bigger fish to fry right now. So, how 'bout it?"

"Yes, but we need a fish in order to fry it. I'm fairly certain they sell those here."

Laughing, Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders and guided him to the car.