It had started off as a good night. Dean had gotten drunk, and ended up in the bathroom with the hottest woman in the bar. He'd been well on his way to getting laid when he took off her shirt and saw a birth mark on her collarbone, shaped like a leaf.

The sight of it sent Dean's mind spinning back to a woman with a similar birthmark – one he had tortured mercilessly in hell. He'd enjoyed her screams.

Dean didn't remember what excuses he'd made to get out of there. The next thing he was aware of, he was walking down a road he didn't recognize, shaking so hard that it was a struggle to keep on his feet.

He'd tried, he really had, but he couldn't do this anymore. Cas should never have rescued him. He didn't deserve to be saved. What he deserved was to die and go straight back to hell, where he belonged.

A glint of water far below had Dean staggering toward it. The bridge had a small sidewalk next to the road, which he stumbled along. He glanced at the water approvingly. This was definitely high enough that he should be killed on impact. It wasn't the first time Dean had thought of this, and he'd done his research.

He brushed impatiently at the tears that were starting to come, but what was the point? There was no one here to see him spend his last moments weeping like a girl.

Dean slowly climbed over the safety rail, balancing on the edge, staring down at the black waters below.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Cas. Please forgive me."

Then he leaned forward and let go.

"Dean!"

There was a breathless second of falling, but it didn't end in the blinding shock of pain he was expecting. Dean suddenly found himself lying flat on an unfamiliar bed with Cas standing over him.

"Cas! What the hell are you doing here?"

"You called me."

"I did not!"

"You did."

"I was just thinking, damnit! I wasn't praying to you."

"I don't know what to tell you, Dean. Sometimes the difference between thoughts and prayers is a small one. I am glad you called."

"I didn't – you know what, never mind. I'm out of here."

Wherever Cas had brought him, Dean was sure he'd be able to find a bridge sooner or later. He got up and headed for the door, but Castiel blocked his way. "You cannot leave."

"Like hell I can't! Let me go, Cas."

"Do you need me to take you to Bobby's panic room? Because I will."

"Fuck off."

Cas remained in front of the door, and Dean threw himself back onto the bed. Why did this have to happen, why? He could be dead now if not for that stupid, interfering angel.

"Do you want me to get Sam?"

"NO! Don't you dare, Cas."

"Alright, Dean."

Dean squinted at him for a moment before deciding Cas wasn't about to fly off and bring his brother. "So how long am I under house arrest for?"

"You tried to kill yourself."

Dean winced. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"None of your damn business, that's why!"

The mattress moved slightly as Cas perched on the edge of it. "I care about you, Dean. You can talk to me. It's obvious that you are hurting."

Dean wanted to shout again, but as he met those blue eyes, the angry words died in his throat. What was the point in pretending anymore? Cas would have to be an idiot not to know just how messed up he was after what the angel had just witnessed.

"I don't deserve to live, Cas." No, he wouldn't cry, not in front of Cas, he wouldn't! Dean turned toward the wall, hiding his suddenly wet face.

"What happened in hell was not your fault."

Dean didn't bother arguing. He'd been over this with Cas and Sam multiple times. They didn't understand.

Castiel sighed. "Sam has advised me to give you space, but from what I've seen tonight, that clearly isn't working. Let me help you, Dean."

"How?" he asked in a choked voice. "How can you possibly help me? You think you can heal this pain away?"

"No, but I can bring it to the surface."

This was so ridiculous that Dean turned to face Cas, his cares about the angel seeing him cry forgotten. "You think that will help? You're crazier than I am."

"You have been burying your pain in an attempt not to feel it, and it is eating you alive – tonight proved that much. I can bring it out from the walls you've put up and help you survive it."

"What makes you think I want to survive it?"

"Please, Dean." Cas' voice cracked slightly. "I – I do not think I can lose you. Please."

Anger and demands, Dean could deal with, but this? Cas looking at him with so much pleading and pain in his eyes? It broke Dean's heart. He'd never meant to hurt anyone else – removing himself was meant to end the pain, not cause it. Sure, he knew that Sam and Cas would grieve for him, but after a time, they'd realize they were better off.

Looking at Cas, Dean saw something laid bare that scared him, because he'd never seen a look like that in anyone's eyes directed at him. It was the way his father had looked at his mother – like she was the whole world, and he would go mad without her.

"I…"

"Let me in," Cas urged.

Dean knew he should say no, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he nodded.

Relief broke out over Cas' face as he moved closer, so that they were sitting side by side against the headboard. "This will hurt," he warned.

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself."

Castiel brought two fingers to Dean's forehead.

All at once, the world imploded.

Had he thought he'd been feeling guilt, shame and self-loathing before?

Dean realized now that he'd never truly understood the meaning of the words.

He doubled over, clutching his chest, screaming. Cas' arms were suddenly around him, and the angel was speaking, but Dean couldn't hear over the sound of his own screams. He couldn't seem to stop.

It hurt. Nothing had ever hurt like this. He wanted Cas to stop it, to put back the wall that had kept him safe from these emotions, but all that came out of his mouth was wordless, horrified, agonized screams.

Dean reached for the knife in his boot. He couldn't endure this, he wanted it to end – but Cas was already easily wrestling the knife out of his shaking hand.

"Cas – p-please –" Dean gasped.

"It'll be ok, Dean. I've got you." Castiel was hugging Dean tightly to his chest, and Dean buried his face in the angel's shoulder, in too much pain to care about how pathetic it was.

"Can't – h-hurts."

"I know it hurts, but it will get better, I promise."

Cas held him tightly as Dean curled in on himself, his hands clawing at his chest, trying to get to his traitorous heart. Nothing should hurt this much. Never had Dean hated himself more, and never had he wished more fervently he was dead.

"No, Dean, I will not let you hurt yourself." Castiel took both of his wrists in a firm grip, stopping Dean from so much as scratching himself.

He lost track of time. The pain was relentless. More than once, Dean tried to escape, to find any way to end his life, but his limbs seemed to be made of noodles, and Cas easily overpowered him. The only constant thing was Cas' arms around him. Dean leaned into the contact, taking what little comfort he could get.

Dean didn't know how long it took for him to stop screaming and start sobbing. With anyone else, he'd worry about being sappy and weak, but somehow, he sensed that Cas understood.

"I've got you, Dean, I've got you," Cas murmured softly. "Whatever you've done, I still care about you. I am here for you."

No words could have been more meaningful for him at that moment. Dean lost track of time, but at some point, he realized that he was simply lying quietly, half sprawled atop Cas. The pain was fading – slowly, but it was definitely on the way out.

"Cas?"

"Dean?"

"Is it over?"

"It's as over as it's going to get for the moment. I unblocked all of the feelings you had walled up and let them out, but that won't erase the memories. You may still struggle with what happened to you, but it won't be as bad as before."

Last night, Dean wouldn't have believed him, but now, he felt strangely light. It still hurt, but the weight wasn't crushing him anymore. "Thank you."

"Of course, Dean. That's what friends are for."

"That's what friends are for," Dean agreed, forcing a grin.

"I do not understand your expression, Dean. Are you indicating you wish to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"About us."

Dean felt his eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Sam has already explained this to me, but I was under the impression you didn't need any explanation. Though judging by your proficiency in blocking your own feelings, maybe you do."

"What explanation, Cas?"

Castiel hesitated. "I have already unearthed a number of repressed emotions in a short time. I am not sure I should do any more just yet."

"Either you tell me what the fuck you're talking about, or I start swinging."

"You will only hurt your hand, Dean."

Dean glared at him. "Talk."

Cas sighed. "The way we feel about each other isn't how one feels about family brothers or friends; it's how one feels about a husband. The thoughts we have about each other's bodies? These aren't friend or family thoughts, Dean. They are thoughts of lovers."

Dean froze, running the words through his head. "Cas… you mean – you feel –?"

"Sam was kind enough to explain my feelings to me when I asked him about it. I was confused by the way you looked at me, and the way it made me feel. He told me to give you space, that it was painfully obvious you felt the same, but I should be careful not to send you running."

Dean was sure he was gaping like a goldfish, but he couldn't get words to form.

"Do not worry, Dean, it's alright if you don't want to talk about it yet. I will wait – for however long you need." Cas smiled at him, and something inside Dean just clicked.

He grabbed the angel's trench coat and pulled Cas toward him, kissing him firmly on the lips. Cas made a little noise in the back of his throat that had Dean moaning and deepening the kiss.

When he finally broke away for air, he couldn't tear his gaze from Cas' face. "I never thought you felt the same. Why would you? Who would love me, or all people? You're an angel, and I'm –"

"Everything," Cas breathed. "You are everything, Dean, I don't ever want to hear you say otherwise."

Dean would have argued, but then Cas was kissing him, and all arguments disappeared from the hunter's head.

As he lost himself in the feeling of Cas' lips against his, the pain of before was just a distant memory. Dean knew it wasn't gone for good, but he also knew that next time, he wouldn't be alone.

"You won't be," Cas said softly, and Dean realized his thoughts must have been picked up as a prayer by his angel. "I've got you."

Dean suddenly felt like he had a lot to live for.