A/N: This story was not Beta Read. I did look it over a few times to try and catch as many typos and errors as possible, but I'm human and miss things especially when it comes to things I've written. If you see a mistake, please let me know (politely) and I will endeavor to fix it. Also. I do not own Supernatural, please give credit where credit is due. Thank you.

The call came shortly after Dean had gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to roughly dry his hair. He and Sam had decided to take the day off of hunting, catching up on rest and relaxing some. Seemed like as good of a day as any to do so, what with the heavy rain and dark clouds outside. Sam had taken to binge watching Netflix in the library while pouring over some books that he'd been meaning to read. Dean, on the other hand, had decided to work on the Impala and then take the longest, hottest shower that he could stand.

Pausing long enough to fish his phone out of his the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing earlier, he frowned slightly at the number flashing on the screen. It wasn't one that he recognized, but they did occasionally get phone calls from people who'd gotten their number from another hunter or something of that notion.

Resuming the rough towel drying of his hair, he flicked the answer button and held the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

For a brief moment he was met with only static filled silence, making him wonder if maybe the connection was bad or if it was a prank call. No one had ever prank dialed him before, but he remembered doing it when he was in high school and messing around. Things couldn't have changed that much from when he was a kid, surely.

Then a voice came over the line, one he hadn't expected to hear again. "Hey Dean-o. Where are you?"

Gabriel.

There was no mistaking that voice. The playful, almost irritating lit to his voice. The way that the words practically seemed to dance, even through the static filled connection of the phone. Dean had been sure that when Lucifer had killed him, back before they'd officially stopped the apocalypse, that he'd never hear that voice again. He was never sure if that was something he was glad for – the archangel had, after all, killed him multiple times in front of his brother – or if it was something that he was sad about since Gabriel had ultimately done what Dean always tried to do, try to protect his family and stop the fighting.

Had Dean appreciated the method that Gabriel used? No. He could have lived without Gabriel trying to get him and his brother killed to get the fight between Michael and Lucifer over with. Dean could, however, understand just wanting the in house fighting to be over with. Watching Sam and his father fight all the time before Sam had gone off to Stanford had been horrible.

"Gabriel? When did you come back to life? How?" Dean couldn't help the questions. God had brought Sam and him back once, same with Castiel a few times he supposed. He hadn't, however, heard of God doing it for anyone else.

There was another pause before Gabriel was talking again. "Look, Deano, I'd love to shoot the shit with you over a slice of pie and tell you all about how Daddy-dearest brought me back to life and blah blah blah. I have a bit of an issue here, though, and I really need to see you right now. So where are you?"

Dropping the towel on the ground, something Dean was sure Sam would get onto him for later, Dean narrowed his eyes at his reflection over the sink that he'd walked to while talking. He wasn't sure that he trusted this. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that over the static filled line it could actually be anyone with a remotely passing knowledge of Gabriel on the line. The bunker was a secure location and heavily warded, and they had enough enemies that they weren't exactly giving out their address like it was candy on Halloween.

"How do I know that you're really Gabriel? And what on earth could you need to talk to me face to face so badly for? You're suppose to be an archangel."

This time he was met with a heavy sigh and what sounded like something hitting their head against a wall. "I really don't have time for this Dean-o. This isn't about me, it's about Cassie. He's not exactly in top condition and you are the only one who can fix it. So if you even remotely care for my little brother, then give me your address now so I can poof us to you and you can take care of the littlest angel."

The thought of Castiel being hurt made Dean's throat feel like it was closing up, making him fight for breath to get out the next words. "I need to know that you're really Gabriel." If Castiel was hurt, then Dean wanted him at the bunker, even if he couldn't do anything for the angel that had become more like family than not. However, he was sure that even Castiel would want him to be careful, to try and make sure that the person he was talking to was safe before letting them know where the bunker was.

There was another long sigh. "Fine, fine, lets just hurry this up. Cassie isn't exactly getting any better while we chatter over this. In Broward County, I killed you a few hundred times to make a point to Sammy. The first time you were killed by a shot gun blast, the second time you were run over by a car being driven by a senile old man outside a diner, and the third time it was by a desk being dropped on you from a few stories up. The song 'Heat of the Moment' played every morning while you were stuck in the loop. Cassie also left a nice little memento on your shoulder where he pulled you out of hell, but he erased it after Sammy dropped Luci into the Cage."

Swallowing, Dean realized that there was no way that anyone else was on the phone other than Gabriel. While the Myster Spot ordeal had gotten around to some hunters, and so it was possible that a creature had gotten the information, no one knew about how the handprint disappeared for sure except him, Sam, and Castiel. Gabriel was an archangel and was probably the only angel that Castiel had really spoken about with real fondness, even if he'd considered Gabriel to be immature and brash.

"Labanon Kansas, the geographic center of the lower 48. You wont be able to come straight in, go to the bunker door. I'll be there to let you in."

Gabriel didn't even say as much as good-bye before disconnecting the line, which only made Dean worry more. The archangel turned trickster wasn't exactly known for his serious attitude or sudden surly snaps.

With quick steps, the serious of the situation pressing on him, Dean hurried to the room that he'd claimed as his in the bunker and grabbed the first clothes that he could find that didn't smell like he'd dunked them in lake water. Once he'd jerked on the worn jeans and light grey henley, he tucked a gun into the waistband of his jeans and hurried towards the front.

As he moved he couldn't help but think.

He couldn't recall a time when Castiel had been seriously sick or injured. When his grace had been waning he'd gotten tired sometimes and had to eat occasionally, sure, but Castiel had been fully powered up for a while. At least he'd thought so anyway, the angel hadn't exactly said otherwise at any rate. Dean wasn't sure why he was feeling so frantic really, besides the fact that it was rare for the angel to be sick or hurt. He'd seen Sam injured and seriously ill before. Had nursed him through some tough situations more times than he'd care to recall recall. None of those times, except when Sam had literally been on death's door, had he been as frantic as he was now. It was almost like he could feel the walls of the bunker closing in on him in his worry for his friend. He figured, though, that the simplest reason was that with all that they'd gone through, Castiel was like family and so he was reacting to the unknown situation.

Once at the door, Dean barely hesitated to pull it open, not surprised to see Gabriel waiting for him with a scowl on his normally cheeky face. What he hadn't been expecting, though perhaps to some degree he had been, was Castiel practically draped over the older angel's shoulder. The trademark trench coat was hanging off his shoulders haphazardly, his eyes barely open, and his head lulling listlessly while Gabriel supported what looked to be his entire weight.

Moving back quickly, Dean motioned for Gabriel to come in and then shut the door behind them, trying to ignore the way that Gabriel was having to practically drag Castiel, who could barely move his feet.

"What happened? What can I do? Follow me, I'll take you somewhere you can lay him down. Do I need to have Sam bring the first aid kit?" Dean shot off question after question as he moved, guiding the two angels through the bunker towards his room. He knew that he could have taken them to one of the empty rooms, there were enough of them, but he told himself that his room was closer and he knew that the sheets would be clean.

"First Aid kit wont help, kiddo. You're going to have to help Cassie here hands on." Gabriel grunted, obviously straining under the weight of Castiel even with is angelic strength. Dean was half tempted to offer to help, but without knowing what exactly was wrong with Castiel, he wasn't sure that he wanted to risk making it worse. Plus, if Gabriel was having trouble with it with his increased strength, Dean wasn't sure what he'd be able to do with his puny (compared to an angel's) strength. Instead he just grunted and pushed open his bedroom door, moving to the bed to knock off the things he'd left laying on it before stripping off the blanket in a quick motion so Gabriel could lay Castiel down on it.

While Gabriel got Castiel situated, surprisingly having opted to not just leave the obviously weakened angel just sprawled haphazardly on the bed, Dean puttered around unsure as to what to do.

Once the older angel was content with the way that Castiel was laying, he turned to Dean with a frown. "We're going to have to talk quick, because I don't know how long Cassie here really has. The handprint that he left on your shoulder when he raised you from hell, what do you know about it?"

Dean frowned slightly, unsure as to what the hand print had to do with anything. It wasn't even there anymore. When Castiel had healed his injuries that Lucifer had given him while using Sam's body, the hand print had gone too. To be honest, Dean hadn't even really thought about it since confirming that's what happened. "It was from him literally dragging me kicking and screaming from hell, I guess. Cas said that he'd had to grip my soul tight with his grace, and it had left a mark in its place but he was never strong enough to remove it until God had brought him back after Lucifer killed him."

Throwing his hands up, Gabriel shot an irritated look at Castiel and muttered some obviously not nice things in his direction in a language that Dean didn't recognize before looking back at him. After taking a calming breath, the archangel shook his head slightly and seemed to deflate. "I don't know that I have enough time to explain it all. You'll have to get a full explanation after Cassie here wakes up and is coherent. Needless to say at this point, the hand print was more than just a mark left from him pulling you out of hell." When Gabriel paused at this point, Dean started to worry.

What could be so bad about the hand print that it was relevant to Castiel's condition now? Thankfully he didn't have to ask anything before Gabriel was talking again.

"The hand print was more of a bonding thing, not something that angel do lightly because it literally links two beings together in a very profound way. It's not meant to be removed, but sometimes it can happen. When it does, there are always heavy consequences that get worse with the deeper the bond is. I hadn't realized how deep your bond with Castiel went until he showed up on my doorstep a few days ago looking only a little better than this. It took a lot to get him to admit what happened. You'll have to talk to him about that though. The point is, Dean-o, you need to literally help hands on." When Dean just continued to stare blankly, Gabriel rolled his eyes heavily and crossed his arms. "Oh come on! You can't really...uhg fine. He needs direct contact with you, with your soul. Hold his hand, pet his hair, snuggle him, I don't care. Just whatever you do, be in contact with him, the more skin the better. Then for Dad's sake, when he wakes up talk to him about the damn hand print!"

With that Gabriel practically flounced out of the room, obviously trusting Dean to take care of his baby brother.

Hesitating slightly, Dean looked around the room until his eyes landed on a chair off to the side. Grabbing it, he dragged it to the side of the bed within reach and plopped down on it. Taking a fortifying breath, he reached out a shaking hand and set it on the closet one of Castiel's. He didn't see anything happen for a moment and he was wondering if maybe Gabriel had been lying, then there was a sudden jerk in Castiel's arm. Sluggishly, Castiel rotated his hand and was grabbing Dean's back. Almost infinitesimally, the angel relaxed slightly, a small breath puffing from chapped lips.

Looking around the room again, his knee bouncing nervously, Dean rolled Gabriel's words over in his head now that he knew that the archangel wasn't talking out of his ass about how he could help Castiel. For a moment, he considered his options. Moving slowly, he pulled his hand away from Castiel, flinching at the whimper that it got him, and started carefully removing the trench coat then the suit jacket. Since he was unable to move Castiel much - the angelic grace inside the human vessel seemed to make him heavier than the average human - he left the coat and jacket on the bed under him. He hesitated again the the button down shirt, but another deep breath and he was moving again. Once he had the tie and button down off he was left with the undershirt. After a moment's thought, and Castiel's breath becoming more labored again, he grabbed the knife he kept near the bedside and just cut the shirt away.

Once Castiel was shirtless, Dean grabbed the back of his own shirt and pulled it up and over his head, letting it drop on the ground at the foot of the bed. Trying not to think about it, he carefully moved around the hurt angel until he was next to him.

Reaching one hand out, he laid it on Castiel's arm, swallowing thickly when the angel's breath immediately evened out and a relieved sigh passed from his lips once more. After a few minutes, when he felt bolder, he moved closer, letting his entire arm press up against Castiel's. The relief wasn't immediate, but after a few more minutes Castiel seemed to relax further and his breath evened out more. The heat that had been pouring off him earlier also seemed to diminish slightly, the sweat that had been beading along his brow and upper lip seeming to start to vanish.

Relaxing himself as he saw that Castiel was starting to relax more, Dean let his body sink into the bed slightly and lifted the angel's arm enough to slide closer. The bed was only a double, not having been bought with the thought that he'd have any company in it, and there was only one pillow, but Dean found a comfortable spot next to Castiel, his chest pressed up against his side and his arm slung across his stomach, head on the angel's shoulder. It had seemed easier to move to the angel than the other way around, and he hoped that Gabriel was correct and the more skin was better.

It was proven right after a few seconds when Castiel's arm moved to wrap around his back and up over his side. His breathing became more steady and his head turned slightly so his nose brushed the top of Dean's head.

Letting himself relax further, Dean leaned more into Catiel figuring that it would be okay since there weren't any external or internal wounds that Gabriel had mentioned. There was no pained noise that met him, so he eventually allowed the rest of his weight to distribute evenly over Castiel and the bed before clinching his eyes closed, not sure that he could bring himself to keeping them open as he hoped and prayed that neither Sam nor Gabriel would come in to check on them. "Come on man, you gotta be okay."

He wasn't expecting an answer, but when he heard his named breathed out in a soft sigh across the top of his head, Dean couldn't help but turn his head slightly to press more into Castiel's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time, Dean having lost track of time as he kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to look at the clock that he kept on the desk just on the other side of the bed. Didn't want to know how long it was taking for Castiel to slowly improve. Instead he just laid there, eyes closed, a litany of prayers running through his head to the only person he could think of who was worthy enough of them, Castiel himself, begging him to be okay and to get better.

D*C*D*C*D*C*D*C*D*C*D*C

Fingers running softly through his hair woke Dean up, a pleased noise pulled from the back of his throat even as he struggled to recall who'd he'd gone to bed with. He was pretty sure he wasn't in a motel room, there wasn't a funky smell, and he didn't remember going out drinking. The trips to the bar to get wasted had tapered off a lot in the past year or so, Dean opting to drink a beer or two a day at the bunker instead of drinking himself under the table at a bar. He supposed that it had gone hand in hand with him cooking at the bunker, eating less greasy diner food and even adding vegetables and other healthy foods to his meals. He wasn't nearly as bad as his brother about the rabbit food, but he was enjoying burgers that weren't dripping in grease and fat.

It seemed like it came all at once, remembering the phone call from Gabriel, the archangel dragging Castiel into the bunker, crawling into bed with the ill angel and basically wrapping himself around him after being told that touch would help him. In the back of his mind he hoped that neither of their brothers had come in, at the forefront he just kept repeating to himself not to tense up and not to freak out.

Opening his eyes, the rest of his body purposefully limp, he shifted his head up slightly to look at Castiel who was obviously coherent. Dean didn't even know when he'd fallen asleep, but it seemed that sometime after he had crashed out, Castiel had made a drastic improvement. His body was back to it's normal, slightly warmer than average temperature, his breathing coming in steady inhales and exhales that were carefully timed and regulated by the angel, his blue eyes open and staring down at him as if he'd never seen Dean before. He'd even gotten more muscle control, if the lazy petting of his hair was anything to go by, though Castiel still looked too pale and the petting was slow enough to be obviously an effort.

"Hey Cas." It was a stupid thing to say, considering, but it was the only thing Dean could think of to break the silence.

"Hello Dean," Castiel's gravel filled voice seemed to croak slightly, giving away yet another sign that he wasn't completely up to par, but it was better than not hearing that voice at all. "I am unsure as to how I came to be in your room, or why we are in your bed together like this."

His throat clicking slightly, Dean looked away from Castiel as he fished around for words. He wasn't sure how he was suppose to explain what probably looked like a very gay thing to a platonic friend. "I-I got a call from Gabriel...I mean he brought you here. You were in bad shape and he said that I could make you better, or I guess that only I could, I don't know. I mean, I don't know if he was just talkin' out of his ass or what, but he said this...the whole skin or skin contact thing, that it would make you better or whatever. I didn't know what else to do. So, yeah."

His explanation was met with silence, but Dean knew by now that it didn't necessarily mean anything when coming from Castiel unless it was accompanied by body language that suggested something was wrong. The overly serious angel liked to think about things before he spoke, mulling them over before deciding on what to say and when to say it. At first it had been because the angel didn't know a lot about humans, at least that was Dean's guess, but now it had seemed to become almost a habit.

The petting had stopped after Dean had spoken the first time, but it resumed now. "Yes, that makes sense. I suppose he told you why I was ill, as well. I did not think that you'd be...pleased, much less willing to do this. I will admit that you've surprised me, yet again, Dean."

Not looking back up at Castiel, finding it somehow easier to talk to him while they weren't looking at each other, Dean shook his head as much as their position would allow. "Not really. He just said that it'd help you and that we should talk 'bout the whole hand print and you taking it away thing. He said that meant more than you said...that there were consequences or some shit that happens if the whole bond thing gets taken away."

The hand stopped again and Castiel tensed.

Figuring that some space now would be good, Dean carefully scooted off the bed. Dragging his hand carefully over the open skin of Castiel's torso and arm, he kept a hand on the angel until he was seated back in the chair that he'd drawn up to the bed before. Once seated, he just left his hand wrapped lose but firmly around the angel's wrist. "Tell me what that hand print meant, Cas, and don't you lie to me. No omitting the truth either, I want the entire thing. Point blank, up front, now." He tried to keep his voice as firm as possible, despite his own doubts.

For a moment, with as tense as Castiel was, Dean was sure that he wasn't going to answer. Then Castiel started to relax again, as if the fight was literally draining out of him. Still, Dean didn't bother to look, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the bed even as the deep gravelly voice filled the room again.

"You once expressed great shock when I told you that I was a virgin, the fact of the matter is that I had not taken a vessel in many of years before I entered Jimmy. The last time I had a vessel, sexual relations weren't as...easy...as they are now. Once I took over Jimmy, I had you. Angels don't get married, Dean. We create Bonds, and typically it only happens once in our entire existence. Two angel's graces will call to each other, signaling to each other that they are mates, and then a Bond is created when their graces touch. It's meant to last forever, which is why the consequences of breaking a Bond are high and why breaking it to start with is difficult. Only some of the strongest angels are able to break bonds."

Dean let the information roll around in his head for a moment, a frown tugging at his lips, before he responded. He'd thought that he'd take a page out of Castiel's book and actually think before he spoke. "So you're saying...the whole hand print thing, the 'profound bond' that you said we had, you're basically saying that we were angel married and then you broke the bond and basically divorced me?"

"That is correct as far as that analogy goes. Once I broke the bond my grace started to pine for your soul. I thought I was blocking it well enough, but it became apparent a few weeks ago that I was not successful and I started to deteriorate rapidly. If you wish me to be honest, in a few more days I would have probably perished as my grace continued to splinter itself."

Glancing up, jaw clinched and eyes not even attempting to hide how angry he was, Dean practically hissed. "And you didn't think to just tell me?"

It was obvious that Castiel was confused, the frown tugging at his lips and his head tilting to the side even while laying on the lone pillow on the bed. "I did not think that you would be pleased to know. You are very much, as you have put it, a 'ladies man' and my vessel is male. You have not indicated in any way that you might think of me differently, and my grace created the bond without your consent."

Tightening his grip, Dean bit back the curses that were on the tip of his tongue, his eyes screwing shut as his free hand came up so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. A few deep breaths later, once he felt that he had better control over his anger, though he didn't relax his grip, he spoke again. "Look, you can't just go around assuming you know what I will feel or how I will react. You have to tell me these things, especially if they concern me. You're...you mean a lot to me, Cas. We've gone through a lot, and we've both stumbled more than our fair share, but you have to talk to me about crap like this.

"I'm not going to say that I would have been pleased had you told me the day we met or whatever, but at least once you realized that you were hurting because of this whole bond thing being broken...I don't know man. I don't exactly care that you're a guy. You're you, you're Cas..."

It was like the admission was ripped from his soul, but Dean had a sinking feeling that this was it. If there was any time for the truth it was now. Castiel had come to the bunker looking like he was dying, he'd even admitted that he had been. If Dean was going to stop lying to himself and man up to the fact that he thought the world of Castiel, it needed to be now. He wasn't even sure if he'd have been able to have hidden his feelings from himself if the angel had died, perhaps his denial would have been strong enough to continue the charade, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't have worked that way. Faced with impending death, though, his will splintered faster than it had when he was being tortured in hell. He'd been able to hold out for thirty years being tortured in hell, but faced with the death of his angel and he folded like an armature poker player in a high stakes game.

"Are you saying..." Castiel trailed off, drawing Dean's attention back to him. "Are you saying that you wish to be with me?"

It was almost adorable, the confusion that had laced those words, bringing a small smile to Dean's lips even as he locked gazes with the stunned looked angel laying in his bed. "Yeah, I guess that's kind of what I'm saying. If you'll still take me, or if your grace still wants me or whatever. First we have to get you better, though. So tell me what I gotta do to get you back to one-hundred percent."

"I would need to replace the Bond back on you." The answer was immediate. "You must understand, though, if you willingly accept the Bond...last time your soul was fighting me, you were caught up in the delusions of hell and your soul was battered and bloody. My grace made the bond without your soul's help. This time would be different, even stronger than the first, because you will be an active participant. It means beyond a life-time commitment. We'd have to have physical contact at least once a day for a few minutes, the bond would demand it, and the bond would actively fight you coupling with other people. You must be sure this is what you wish for, Dean Winchester."

Nodding sharply, Dean did his best to keep his smile steady. "Yeah, yeah I get it. Monogamy, holding hands, all that couples crap that I never really had. I'm good with that, I want that with you. So how do we do this?"

Castiel regarded him like he had just offered him a cheeseburger after he'd been starving for a life time. Perhaps that was in a way accurate, though Dean couldn't really focus on that right then. When he got his act together, a small smile tugged at his normally serious lips and his breathing sped up faster than normal, something that briefly amused Dean seeing as Castiel didn't exactly need to breath really, though his vessle did demand it, and so normally he was able to regulate his breathing better. After that, the angel didn't bother with words, instead just reaching his free hand out towards Dean's bare shoulder, where the hand print had originally been. With unerringly accuracy, he managed to line his hand up exactly as it had been when he'd placed the bond originally.

Dean couldn't help but hold his breath, unsure as to what was going to happen. A sudden flare of heat on his arm sent the breath right out of him though, making him suck in a gasping breath as if he couldn't get enough oxygen into his system. The heat became overwhelming for a few seconds, then suddenly it was like it was changing. The heat was becoming a part of him, seeping into bones he hadn't realized were cold to begin with and then spreading out through his body.

Unable to help himself, he let his head drop to rest against Castiel's forearm, where his hand still gripped his wrist tightly. His breathing evened out and it was like a state of bliss over came him. For a moment he just sat there, eyes closed and breathing coming in slow waves. Then he realized that the hand that had been grasping his upper arm had moved, fingers carding through his short hair again.

Lifting his head slowly, Dean blinked heavy eyes as he looked up at Castiel. The angel was watching him with a content smile, looking far more relaxed than Dean could remember seeing him in a long time.

"Come up here, Dean. The bonding process takes a lot of energy. We should both rest now."

Not even caring that what seemed like only minutes ago he was worried about being caught laying in the bed with Castiel, Dean climbed back up and didn't bother fighting when Castiel guided him into a comfortable position. Laying half on top of Castiel, half next to him, head pillowed against Castiel's shoulder, Dean didn't think he'd been more comfortable in his life, though that might just be the sudden euphoria talking. Whatever it was, Dean concluded, he was the happiest he could remember being. He had his angel and suddenly everything he never even knew he wanted.

A/N: There might be a continuation of this story at a later date. There have been some requests on AO3 for a sequel. If made, the sequel will have parts rated outside of what is allowed on this site, so it would be edited to fit within parameters. If you'd like to read the uncut version of the sequel you will need to do so on AO3. My AO3 account can be found under the penname Alex Write.