A sigh loud enough to hear across the bunker is let out by a frustrated Dean. Sure, he understands why Castiel is so upset, but this is getting ridiculous. It's been two weeks since the angels fell, and he has only come out of his new bedroom to retrieve food and water and use the restroom. And he has hardly uttered a word the entire time.

A few minutes ago, he left his room to get a small glass of water and hurried back in. Just as he reached the door, Dean called his name. Cas stopped for a second, but then continued on to opening and slamming the door behind him.

"You just have to give him time, man," Sam says from across the table the two are sitting at, trying to comfort his obviously upset brother.

"Time?! It's been two weeks, and we barely know what happened that night." Dean lowers his head into his hands. Seeing Castiel in this much pain was almost unbearable.

"Yeah, Dean. I know two weeks seems like a long time to you, but you have to try to get what he's feeling. His entire family is either dead or human. I'm not surprised this is the way-"

The conversation halts when Castiel suddenly emerges, making Dean jump. He has put on his familiar trenchcoat, which is badly in need of a run through the laundry machine. His hair is messy, but clean. He must have showered earlier today. At least he learned how to do that before his angelic mojo disappeared.

"Cas..." Dean clears his throat. "Hey, man."

"Hello, Dean."

The brothers smile, pleased that Castiel is at least speaking.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asks.

"Uh..." He pauses. "I came out here because I've decided I want to tell you what happened. I think you should know."

Dean's smile fades. He changed the subject. He won't even talk about how he feels about it.

"Okay, well, shoot," Sam replies for Dean.

"I am not armed. Why would I shoot anything?" Cas asks.

"No, I... It means 'go ahead.'" Sam replies, smiling slightly.

"Oh, I see." He pauses for a second before continuing on with the story.

By the time he is finished, he has a steady stream of tears running down his stubble-covered cheeks. A few moments of silence follow as the brothers let it sink in. Dean coughs and stands up. "Well, uh, why don't you give me your coat? I'll go put it in the wash for you."

Sam looks at Dean with accusation in his eyes. This is not the way to handle something like this. But Cas slips the coat of his shoulders anyways and places it in Dean's outstretched hands. "Thank you."

Dean walks away slowly and goes down the stairs and into the cold basement of the bunker. He walks to the laundry room, which they had updated with more modern technology, and throws the coat inside the washing machine. Finally, Dean leans against the wall and slides down it slowly, letting the tears escape. Sure, he was upset that his angel was now an ex-angel. But he was even more upset that he couldn't save him. He knew Castiel felt like he needed those extra angelic abilities to feel worth and purpose with the Winchesters, and couldn't imagine how he was feeling now that he didn't have them. He wanted so badly for Cas to know that Dean didn't care about the extras. He just cared about Castiel and his happiness. He grew angrier and angrier as the thought more about Cas's story. How could Metatron do such a thing? Cas said he didn't know why Metatron was so angry and why he resorted to destroying all the creatures of Heaven because of it. For all Dean knew, he could have just been having a bad day. In this moment, Dean vows to himself that he will find Metatron and personally tear the life out of him as slowly as possible.

Why can't things just work out? Why can't I just be happy? Dean thinks as the tears pour from his exhausted eyes. He thought he was doing something good when he saved his brother, but it cost so much. He couldn't have saved one without failing the other. At least Sam was recovering swiftly. But the more he thought about Sam's recovery, he thought about Crowley's. Crowley would be returning to his old self; the one ridden with hatred and the need for vengeance. It seems that Dean could never catch a break. If he's not feeling the constant pain of guilt about one thing, he's suffering it from another.

"Dean?" a familiar gravelly voice calls from the door of the laundry room. Dean could barely hear it over the thunder sounding from the washing machine.

Dean wipes his eyes frantically and looks away.

"Dean, are you okay?" Cas walks to him and kneels next to him. Amazingly with all the things that Cas doesn't understand about humans, he understood pain and how to help people deal with it better than anyone Dean had ever met. A silent understanding is reached when Dean doesn't answer, and Cas pulls Dean gently into his arms, embracing him soothingly. "It's okay, we'll get through this. I need you, Dean. And I think you need me too. We will get through this together."

[tears]

Anyway, this will be rated T until it turns into smut which it probably will

I'll try to publish chapters every couple days or more often than that. I will adore you forever if you review and when you do, if you leave your tumblr url I'll follow you (;

Thank your reading xx