Title: Road to Joy

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Spoilers: 4x16

Warnings: Oral Sex.

Disclaimer: They belong to Kripke, no matter how much I wish they belonged to me. I snagged some lyrics here. Chapter title is from a Paramore song. The lyric Cas remembers is from the Asia song "Heat of the Moment' - a personal favorite of mine. :)

Author's Notes: Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me until the end. Thank you for your reviews, they make my day. :) Also, thanks to my friend Meredith, who listened to me talk myself through how Cas realizes he loves Dean. Hehe. Love you, Sketch!

Summary: Dean awoke from dreams of Hell, panting and shaking. He steadied his nervous breathing and wished with all his might that he had someone there to comfort him. Night after night with the horrible memories of Hell seared into his mind. All the pain, and no one to help alleviate it.

Chapter Four

I've Got A Tight Grip On Reality

Castiel laid Dean's lifeless body on the bed and took a deep breath to steady himself before the actual transferral of his grace to the eldest Winchester's body. He knew without a shadow of doubt that this was what he wanted, but he also knew that nothing could prepare him for the pain he would feel. The act of ripping out one's grace was not meant to be a simple task by any means. There were several reasons angels did not dare to perform the act, but the nearly unendurable pain was high on the list. Castiel had chosen to omit this bit of information during the exchange with Sam, not wishing to give him another thing to worry about. His brother was already dead and he was going to have to take in the fact that the Winchesters' last angelic sliver of hope was about to become a mere mortal. Castiel did not relish the fact that he would soon be powerless, but he knew that this was the only way he could go on living. With all the angelic powers in the world, he would still be an empty shell without Dean Winchester.

Castiel remembered the moment he realized that he had officially stepped over the allowable emotional boundaries between an angel and his charge. The moment he began his slow fall from grace. The air was so cold that anyone breathing in the night would feel as though his or her lungs were being pierced with each intake of oxygen. There were stars illuminating the sky in curious patterns and it was one of those nights when anyone would have been able to sense the evil lingering in the atmosphere. They were hunting a demon and before Dean had a chance to really react, she had them both at gunpoint. Being the selfless guy that he is, Dean had immediately shielded Cas from the bullet when the evil bitch fired a shot at the angel. It made no sense to Castiel. Dean was fragile, he was human. Why would he shield Castiel from a simple bullet? A silly, man-made object that would do no damage to an angel, but could take Dean's life in a flash?

Music has the most unique hold over our emotions. It's impossible to explain, and also impossible to escape. Dean inherited his love of classic rock from his father. It made him feel empowered and macho. Mostly, it made him feel more like the man he idolized so much. Anytime Dean heard the beginning of the song "Heat of the Moment" by Asia, his blood would begin pumping and he would have an uncontrollable urge to bob his head in rhythym with the beat. When he played it in the Impala with Castiel there, the only part that stuck out to Cas was A look from you and I would fall from grace. The lyric had stuck with him because he knew the exact look that this singer had mentioned. He had seen it plastered across Dean's face before he made the jump to use his body to 'save' Castiel from the bullet. It was sheer terror. Not terror for his own life that was so easily disposed, but terror for the thought of losing the angel. The hunter's face was painted with an expression that screamed 'Not him! Anyone but him!'

Dean never even stopped to consider his own life. It was like he couldn't live without Cas.

As he cradled the injured hunter, after exorcising the demon, the angel was in awe of the things he could see in Dean's soul. There were the ugly scars of anger, pain, confusion, self-loathing, and guilt. But amidst all of that, there was a spectacular beam of purity, love, and genuine selflessness. An honest desire to save the world; even the people who might not have deserved being saved. There was something in the broken man that restored Castiel's faith in humanity. He had never seen anything so beautiful inside a human. The angel could feel a painful tug on his grace and he gasped. He knew it would happen at some point. It was inevitable now. It was no longer a question of "would he", but a question of "When would he fall for Dean?"

The angel drew himself from his memories and tried to focus on the task at hand. Despite all of the pain he would undoubtedly endure in the coming moments, Castiel could only smile. He thought fondly of the smile that it seemed like Dean reserved specifically for the angel. The little moments when Dean would catch his eye and flash his brilliant white teeth, narrow his eyes slightly, his eyelashes flickering playfully, and bite on his bottom lip for half a second. Castiel was not aware of what the smile meant, but he was aware of the fact that he had only seen that particular look on Dean's face when he was looking at him. If Sam had noticed, he'd never mentioned it, but he certainly would have known that the emotion behind the act was a love so deep that even Dean couldn't fully flesh it out yet. The angel placed a soft kiss on the hunter's forehead and proceeded to rip his grace out in a roar of light and pain.

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Castiel was lying next to Dean, panting and clutching his chest. It was over, Dean should be fine, but Castiel felt like he wanted to die. The pain was almost too much to handle. Every breath felt like someone was stabbing his lungs, and his chest ached as if someone had grabbed hold of his heart with an iron fist and ripped it out. Every fiber of his being wanted to pass out, but a raspy voice in his ear removed his attention from his own pain.

"Cas. What - are you okay? Wait. I-I died."

Castiel nodded solemnly and replied, "That is correct."

"Am I in Heaven?" Dean looked around the motel room with a little glimmer of fear in his eyes. Then he met Castiel's gaze with a smirk painted on his lips. "Cause I gotta say, if this is Heaven, I feel like I pulled the short straw. This is kinda lame, Cas."

Castiel felt a bubble of laughter build in his stomach and was surprised by how suddenly it escaped his mouth. The feeling of his abdominal muscles contracting and his head swimming with a rush of endorphins was almost overwhelming. All of these were signs that he was now a human, just like Dean. The body was no longer a vessel, it was his home. The human soul inhabiting it was now gone and replaced with Castiel himself. They were now his muslces, his emotions plastered across the handsome face - his face. His heart paused for a moment as the realization hit him.

Dean laughed too, his body feeling lighter with the sensation. He sat up on the bed and faced Castiel. The light and pleasing feeling of laughter left his body immediately as he studied the other man. His body went rigid and he suddenly felt anger. Castiel wasn't an angel anymore. How Dean knew with just a look, he couldn't even comprehend. He just knew.

"What did you do?" Dean's voice was almost a growl.

Castiel's laughter ceased and he avoided the hunter's eyes. He didn't have to see him to know that Dean was livid. Without emotion he replied, "I made the only decision I could live with."

Dean jumped from the bed as though it were a hot iron and threw his hands in the air yelling, "Dammit Cas! You gave it all up for me? To save me? What the hell is wrong with you? I'm nothing, Cas. NOTHING! How could you do that? I can't live with that. Did you stop to think about that at all? I am nothing to this world! I'm just some pissed off dude saving people because it's the only good thing I can do. You had so much more to offer the world. Why Cas, why would you throw it all away for me?"

Castiel rose from the bed and faced the man he loved, who was almost in tears from the mere thought of Castiel sacrificing so much for him and replied, "You are so quick to chastise me, yet you sold your own soul for Sam in an instant. That's not fair. Dean, do you remember when you told me that if I sent you in that room to torture Alastair, that I would not like the man who walked back out? You were wrong. With all the anger, pain, confusion, and self-loathing that you harbor- I have seen inside your heart. I know that you are a good man. A better man than many. Despite all the emotional trauma you have endured, you still genuinely care about other people. Your day is never done unless you have saved someone-"

"I'm not a hero, Cas! This is my job, it's what I do. It's all I can do, and I owe it to the world to save people, especially after what I did in Hell."

Castiel shook his head in frustration and scowled at the hunter.

"You see Dean, that is your own blindness. This is not your job, you don't have to do this. You do not have to live in a car, eat greasy burgers, shack up at the occasional motel, and most importantly, you don't have to spend every day of your life fighting evil. You choose it, and that is what sets you apart from the rest of the world. Even from the hosts of Heaven. We could never be as courageous as you. You are a fragile human, your life is dispensable, you are mortal, but you gladly throw yourself into situations that could take your life in an instant, all to save people you don't even know, people who will never even say 'Thank you'. You are a hero, Dean Winchester. "

Dean scoffed at Castiel's speech and rolled his eyes. Castiel stepped forward and slid his hand up Dean's sleeve to lay his hand onto Dean's right shoulder, fingers slotting perfectly into place with the scar. Dean felt as though all the air in his lungs had escaped. Castiel was no longer an angel, but the effect was the same when he touched the scar. It wasn't just an angelic bond. Castiel had bonded their souls when he had given Dean that scar.

The blazing green met the crystal blue and both men forgot about the argument.

All that mattered was that Castiel was here, he was real, he was tangible. Dean would have time to deal with the whole 'He gave up his angel mojo for my sorry ass' nonsense later. This was about appreciating what he had and not screwing it up anymore than he probably already had. The truth was, Dean didn't feel like he deserved Castiel, which was one more reason to hold on tightly to what he had right now. He was beginning to wonder if it was all a dream. No one could really feel this way about him. It just wasn't possible. Dean captured Castiel's lips, licking his way into the other man's mouth, desperate to taste him, to be rooted in the present. As he felt the Cas' tongue exploring his own mouth, he knew it couldn't be a dream, because that taste was too strong. Castiel tasted sweet and pure, like honey and sunshine. Dean moaned into Cas' mouth and pushed his body so it was flush with Castiel's. He was craving friction of some sort, but he didn't want to rush this. He wanted to savor every moment, because this time everything had changed. Castiel had given Dean life twice now, and the second time had cost the former angel his grace. Dean didn't believe there was anything he could give the other man to ever make the fall worth it, but he was going to begin by making him feel things he'd never forget.

Castiel kissed Dean as though he was the only source of oxygen in the room, like each precious meeting of their lips was the only thing keeping him alive. Dean growled low in the back of his throat as he pushed Castiel onto the bed, removing the horrible trenchcoat in the process. Not to say that the trenchcoat itself was actually horrible; it was just that the stupid thing was one more awful layer seperating Dean from the radiating heat of Castiel's skin, which he was very anxious to taste. Free of the coat, Castiel was more agile and he quickly helped the hunter out of his shirt, while admiring the smooth expanse of pale skin that was Dean's chest and stomach. As Castiel ran his fingers across Dean's stomach, he could hear the sharp intake of breath and the clenching of the lean muscles beneath the silky skin. He leaned his own chest up to meet Dean's and buried his face in Dean's neck, biting lightly at the throbbing jugular vein. The hunter grunted and rubbed his denim-clad erection against Castiel. The intensity of this tryst was going to kill them both if they weren't able to lose a few more layers of clothing. Dean wrenched himself away, removed his pants and proceeded to remove the remainder of Castiel's clothing. Once they were both completely naked, they both took a moment to admire the sheer beauty of one another. Castiel studied every scar and freckle, wanting to memorize the map of Dean's body, as Dean took in the winter pale skin, a nice contrast to the onyx hair on the former's angel's body, the light flush on his skin from arousal and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. For just a moment, each man was in awe of the other, unable to grasp the truth of the situation, both thinking they were in no way worthy of the beautiful gift in front of them. Dean smirked at Cas and fell to his knees when he was unable to wait any longer. He leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to Castiel's hips, following it with a hard bite, sure to leave a small bruise. Castiel had marked Dean for everyone to see, and before the night was over, he wanted to leave a few marks of his own. Dean trailed his fingers along the sharp jut of Cas' hipbones and licked a line up the length of Castiel's erection, before taking all of Cas into his mouth. Castiel had felt this sensation in the past, but that was before this body was his own. It had just been a vessel at the time. Sure, he could feel things then, but it was almost muted. The way a person would experience the feeling of touch when covered with a thick glove. This was new, amazing, and mind-blowing. As Dean's skilled tongue and the warm cave of his mouth swallowed Castiel, he couldn't stop his body from rising to meet the pleasure. His hips bucked into the other man's mouth and Dean's gag reflex kicked in. He made a choking sound, alerting Castiel and causing the former angel to cease his movements. Dean's tear-filled green orbs met Cas' smoldering sapphire ones and he gave his a lover a thumbs up to signal that it was safe to keep moving. Castiel suddenly became entranced by the view of the hunter's pouty lips, slick with spit and pre-come, wrapped around him. He had never witnessed anything that caused such a deep burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. He almost forgot where he was, or hell, even who he was. Dean grew tired of waiting and took matters into his own hands. He literally took all of the other man into his mouth, until his nose was touching the soft raven tuft of hair, inhaling the musky scent, and nearly drowning in the pleasure of hearing Castiel come undone beneath him. Castiel took the hint and allowed his body to thrust of its own accord, sending shivers down his spine each time he felt the back of Dean's throat close around him. It was almost more than he could take; the sensation, the sound of Dean moaning around him. He was blinded but the white-hot pleasure coursing through him as he looked down to see Dean's head bobbing furiously in his lap. That had been the thing to send him completely over the edge. He exploded into the hunter's mouth, crying out his name. He fell back onto the bed, his chest heaving, allowing Dean to milk his orgasm out of him. Dean did just that, until Castiel was twitching in his mouth from the over-sensitive nerves being teased. The hunter slowly released Castiel, swallowing and wiping his chin clean as he worked his way up onto the bed. He sank down next to Cas and pressed a kiss to his forehead, smirking a little at the already shallow breaths that were a tell-tale sign that the former angel was about to enjoy his first post-coital nap. He pulled Castiel into his side, their bodies flush, radiating heat and sliding a little from the sweat. Castiel sighed and nuzzled into Dean's neck, sticking his tongue out to taste the salty tang of Dean's sweat. He whispered into the hunter's neck; a thank you and a promise for things to come, as soon as he could regain his strength. Dean laughed,poked Cas in the side and said, "Oh, your ass is mine, angel boy. Just wait." Understanding the implication behind the joke, Castiel laughed and snaked his arm over Dean's belly, making sure to brush his hand against the other man's achingly hard erection. Dean gasped at the contact and his hips bucked off the bed, chasing the hand that had teased him. Castiel snickered and slid down Dean's body, deciding that sleep was overrated anyway.

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The next morning Castiel was practicing brushing his teeth, alone. He thought fondly of the days when he wanted to learn such trivial human things, out of pure curiosity. He wondered if part of him always knew it would come to this. He was always going to pull Dean Winchester out of Hell, watch over him, fall in love with him, and ultimately fall for him. If this had been his destiny, he was grateful. However, after last night, he no longer believed in destiny. He had been given a choice to make, and he chose to give his grace to the snarky and broken hunter he believed to still be snoozing in the motel bed. He now believed in free will, and he was grateful for that. Lost in his own thoughts, he never heard Dean sneak up behind him, so he was startled when the hunter gripped his hips and twisted him around to ambush him with a kiss. Dean kissed him like he was the most precious thing on the planet, cupping Cas' face in his hands, with the corners of his own lips slightly turned up, fighting a smile. Castiel tasted of spearmint and Heaven. It didn't matter that he was no longer an angel. He was the closest thing to Heaven Dean would ever taste, touch, smell, see, or hear. And he was the most beautiful example Dean could ever have requested. The dishelved tuft of raven hair that was jutting out in all directions, the electric blue eyes that had read Dean's heart with such ease, and the husky voice that made Dean shiver, right down to his core. Dean was thankful that the angels had been willing to lose this perfect piece of Heaven, because he didn't think he could ever live without it.

I've got a tight grip on reality, but I can't let go of what's in front of me here.