A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I haven't had as much time to write these past few days but still wanted to give you something to read until the next one. Because the votes led to Path A this will be a slow build, but that just makes it all worth while! (Right?) Enjoy!

The room was silent as each man was lost in their own train of thought. Castiel was staring straight ahead, leaning forward as if he must be ready for answers. It was only when he felt a growing warmth on the back of his hand that his concentration broke. Blood was dripping steadily from his bandages, forming nearly perfect circles, defaced only by the jutting spikes on their edges from the force of landing on his skin. Shifting to the edge of the bed once more, he began to reach for the gauze on the end table, wincing as another jolt of pain racked his chest. Before he could even let the wave pass, Dean was standing before him; a look of concern seemed almost permanently etched into his features as he stepped forward and took the roll. Castiel reached for it once more, trying to hide a grimace as he did so, but Dean held it just out of his grasp. Giving the man a pensive look, he found himself confused once more. "I can tend to my own wounds. Hand me the roll Dean."

Meeting his gaze coolly, the hunter tried to keep his unease in check, masking it as annoyance instead. "Cas, you can barely lift your arms without doubling over. Besides, you can't reach around your own back." Looking to Bobby and Sam to get back-up, both men grunted in agreement. As Cas looked to all of them with a mixture of befuddlement and apprehension, Dean felt yet another pang in his heart. Cas was normally so trusting with him, taking his word even over the training he had lived by for his entire long life before meeting him. And now he couldn't even decide if he should let him mend the wound he had received from protecting him. The room was becoming tense as Cas still hadn't answered, staring fixedly at Dean as if he was unsure. A low, deep grumble emanating from his stomach though seemed to clear the air as Sam burst into a short fit of laughter, Bobby himself giving a short chuckle, and Cas blinked a few times as he tried to find the source of the sound. Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder and nodded towards the door.

"Glad you're finally hungry! Why don't Bobby and I go out and grab a bite. Burgers sound good to everyone?" Dean cracked a ghost of a smile, a short huff meant to be a laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah Sammy, that sounds great. With bacon. And pie?" Grinning a bit, he gave a nod and left the room with Bobby. He was honestly just happy that Dean wasn't still on his tightrope of grieving worry, and had gotten some of his appetite back. Once both he and Bobby were in Impala, he gave a quick glance back at the house. "Bobby, do you think they'll be alright? I mean Cas was ordered to kill Dean, and he isn't exactly Cas right now." The older man gave him his signature exasperated look, his eyes squinted as if he was trying to find the brain that he knew had to exist somewhere in his head. "If Cas was going to follow orders blindly Dean would already be dead and there wouldn't be a gaping hole in his chest from the blade he jumped in front of. He may not remember, but the old Cas is the one who reacted." Sighing, Sam shook his head and finally gave a brief nod. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Giving a confirming huff, Bobby nearly looked offended but his words were endearing. "Course I am. Idjit." A stretch of silence followed as they rode into town, and Sam pulled into a diner and cut the engine. "Sam? Why are we stopped here?" Looking to Bobby, he gave a half smile that did nothing to change his knit brow. "I figured we could use a cup of coffee first. Besides, those two will probably need some time to talk. If anyone can help Cas remember it would be Dean."

Once they were alone, Castiel found himself more at ease. He did not enjoy feeling vulnerable, much less with multiple people to bear witness. But with Dean, he found himself to relax almost as if it were natural. Chiding himself, he immediately straightened his shoulders, flinching as he did so, and put on his pretense once more. He should be focusing on healing. Focused on getting his memories back, and focused on getting back to Heaven. He had no time to be distracted by such trivial things as comfort. He kept his eyes purposely fixated on the wall, not wishing to meet the penetrating gaze locked onto him. He could not explain why every time he did so he found himself completely entranced, in a daze and his head reeling for meaning yet again. So he wouldn't. But he did have to heal, and as the hunter pointed out he would need assistance. Unblinkingly, he put aside his inner turmoil as the blood seeping through his bandage now trickled down his stomach. "You're right. Perhaps I do need… Aid."

He had been looking dead at Cas, but not the one sitting in front of him. In his mind he had been looking for all of the tell-tale traits that he had come to know so easily, had seemed to memorize without even trying to. He was looking into the eyes that would not meet his, searching for the curious angel who always seemed to forget personal space, who always tried to understand the literal of sarcasm. But above all, he had been hunting for the bond that they had forged in fire, pain, loss, and blood. The one tha- "Dean?" The hoarse voice finally broke him out of his thoughts, blinking quickly a few times to focus his vision he sighed inwardly so his eyes would have time to register properly. He took another look into the captivating cerulean before he saw the ever growing crimson stain steadily marring the tan of the angel's skin. Snapping into action, he stood (perhaps a bit too quickly) and cleared his throat. "Ye-yeah. Let me just get everything." Working with the practiced motions of taking care of Cas for the past week it only took moments for him to get all of the materials organized. Getting on the bed behind him, he noticed a small flinch tense the bare shoulders as if he was still unsure. Trying not to let the bubble of hurt come to his face, he instead passed it off as a chuckle and gently turned Cas to look at him, he put all the sincerity he possessed into his voice. "Look, if I were going to hurt you I wouldn't have been your freaking bed maid for an entire week just to do something when you finally got enough beauty sleep. Chill, ok?" At this he saw the angel's brow furrow as he tilted his head to the side. "I don't know how lowering my body temperature would help with anything. Heat is necessary for circulating blood." Feeling a smile tug at his lips, Dean looked down and shook his head in amusement. This. He had missed the simple things like this. The child-like naivety that was given as straight laced and serious as a declaration of war never failed to put a warmth in his gut. Letting the grin enter his voice, he turned the angel back around to have full access to his back. "Well tell that to the blood coming out of your chest. Just sit still and let me patch you up Cas."

His muscles had been strained, unsure of why he could feel so calm in such a vulnerable state around this man, but the moment he heard the deep voice lighten ever so slightly, the smile on his lips tinging the sound, he found his muscles loosening, felt the strain wane from his core. He felt his brow crease however, as his training waged with his actions. A part of him knowing he should just follow his orders and kill this human, then be on his way back to Heaven. Another part, a much larger part it seemed, was perfectly fine with being here. It was almost content to be next to Dean. And he had to admit, he had never felt this at peace before and especially not whenever he still was injured. His thoughts were mulling over, round and around in a clamorous heap. Perhaps that is what caused the jolt the moment the hunter's calloused hands met his skin. Why was he reacting this way? He had let his guard down, maybe his nerves were still on edge from the power of the blade, or he had simply not been expecting the contact. Reprimanding himself, he squared his shoulders, ignoring the shooting pain in his chest. He was an angel of the Lord, he would not allow himself to be so… So human. He shuddered involuntarily as the bandage was cut away and he felt Dean's fingers gently, ever so gently brush against the very edge of the punctured skin, the heat of the touch in sharp contrast to the chill the absent bandage left behind. His mind was beginning to wander into unknown territory that left him absolutely bewildered and just a tad breathless. He needed a distraction, and he needed answers. Above all he needed to know what it was about this man that made him question everything and set his skin aflame with the smallest touch. Deciding blunt worked best, he stared straight ahead, focusing on keeping his skin from reacting any more than it had. "Dean, what am I to you? Why are you helping me?"

He had been so utterly fixated on scowling at the red puckered flesh, so concentrated on being as tender with cleaning the seeping blood as he could, that the question made his hand freeze as his head shoot up. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? Taking a moment to figure out what to say, he carefully wiped the remaining sanguine fluid from the gaping hole. He couldn't tell him, hell he didn't even know what it meant himself and Cas didn't even remember him enough to know if he had actually been in the dream! Sighing deeply, he continued to clean the already sanitized wound and gave the only answer he knew for certain. "You're family Cas. With us that means through thick and thin, good times or bad, whether you're a douchebag or not, we're there for each other." Feeling his throat get thick, he cleared it and finished with the back half of the wound. Coming around to the front of the bed, he knelt down to clean the blood that had dripped down the length of the angel's stomach. "It means that we would do anything for each other, no matter how stupid to keep them safe. Like when you jumped in front of the freaking blade man, you knew it was stupid but you saved me. That's how family works." Standing now to get a better look at the entrance of the puncture, he went to work cleaning the skin. Halfway through, his eyes began to water as he felt the heartbeat underneath his fingertips. Without realizing it, his hand had frozen there, simply feeling the strong pulse, steady, unfaltering, and there. Eyes sliding closed, he simply felt the beat for a moment, relishing each and every 'thump' against his skin that he thought he would never feel again. His breath carried a whisper, meant to be a thought but betrayed by his lips. "How are you still alive Cas?" Apprehension hit him all at once, and he quickly bent down once more, acting as if he needed more hydrogen peroxide and quickly wiped his eyes, feeling all too well the flush coming to his cheeks. "Almost done, just need to get you some new bandages and you'll be good as new!" He hoped his voice wouldn't tremble with the tears left unshed, or be utterly high pitched from his scorching embarrassment, but instead he should have worried about it coming out as it did. Utterly lost and spurious with a hint of lingering dehydration. 'Son of a bitch! Get it together man! Stop it with the damned chick flick moments!'

Castiel was engrossed, hanging on every word, trying to sense the truth in the words. Then he heard it again. Dean calling him family. Somewhere deep within his heart he could feel an ember ignite, nearly making him gasp, but he stifled it, not wanting to interrupt and possibly miss key information. That ember though, it felt as if it were supposed to be much larger. His emotions had always been more prominent, more powerful than his brothers and sisters. Whenever he attempted to ask them about it when he was young, back before man had begun building their first dynasties, none of the angels understood. Time and time again he was forced to shove them down, to bury them into non-existence in order to prevent the doubt that was beginning to spark in his mind. He had mastered it until the angels no longer felt as though he was a liability. Now… Now that nearly extinguished flame was coming to life again, was making him question everything around him, and not having any logical reasoning based on the events he could only rely on this carefully preserved instinct. Family… He was silently mulling the word over in his mind, trying to add this new definition to his realm of understanding in place of the harshness that would be the angel battalion when the resolution to ignore the tender strokes on his skin broke all at once. Dean's fingers lingered on his chest, not moving, not tending the wound as it had been, but just sitting there. Raising his eyes to meet the gaze of the hunter's questioningly, he was met with closed lids instead. The features on the other man though were transparent, the blatant feelings that were on display when he had first woken and been crushed in the embrace had returned. The visage before him bore a grief so profound that he was taken aback. Over his many years of observing humans, he had never once seen such sorrow take hold in each line of a face. Had never seen a man so used to control hang onto the dam behind his walls with such a frayed thread. The warmth radiating from the other man's hand was soothing, nurturing even. His heart was right underneath the palm, and he could not help but recall the way he had been tuned to Dean's when he had been pinned against the wall. Castiel felt his breathing slow, fearing that doing anything would break the warmth that gave way to something within his senses, triggering long suppressed feelings that were forbidden to his kind. He felt his own eyes close, taking in the contact, trying to let this newfound key unlock the confines of his memory, until he heard the phantom of speech echo from the hunter. Taken aback by the dew that had begun to form in the outer corners of his eyes and the utter rawness of the question, his eyes sprang open just in time to see the hand flee from his chest and the hunter quickly duck out of sight. He had to bite back the impulse to grab his hand again, to let it dwell longer on his flesh, to listen to the pulse of the man in front of him, but he knew such things were not to be tolerated. Choosing instead to once again lock his gaze on to the wall, he couldn't help but notice a longing to banish the iciness that now resided where the hand had only a moment ago brought him such comfort. Comfort that he was not allowed he reminded himself. He could not give in to his emotions. Heaven's wrath was just, not merciful. That lesson had been taught to him many times… He had to find out what his true mission was. "Very well. Now that I am conscious my body will heal properly. Though it will take time due to the severity." The small ember seemed to light a spark then, fueling his next words. "I am afraid I may require to stay here longer than is usually needed." If he could not go by his memories or his scattered mind, he could only rely on the sensation in his chest that seemed to propel him further from his brethren and closer to this man. He had a feeling… Yes. He could admit it. A feeling that he would find more answers here than he had first imagined. He only prayed he would not stray too far from Heaven in this journey…

Thank you so much for reading! The next chapter will be posted as soon as my fingers type what my brain means :) Any suggestions, critiques, or reviews are much appreciated and will be used to improve and fine tune the story. So if there is something you'd like to see or an idea you think would develop the plot along it would mean more than you know!