2. Chapter 2

"Seeing as how your pouty little Winchester is bent on drinking himself into an early grave, I'm guessing that your little offer didn't go over so well."

With the help of long experience, Castiel ignored the voice of his older brother. He focused even harder on watching Dean instead, hoping that Gabriel would take a hint and just go away. But just because he had agreed to return to heaven didn't mean that Gabriel was any less annoying, and less than ten seconds later a warm arm was draped around Castiel's shoulders. Even heavier wings followed, pinning him in place, so that even if he wanted to leave he'd have a hard time doing so. Castiel sighed.

"He is thinking about it," he said finally, not bothering to try and hide the annoyance in his tone. He still didn't look away from Dean, half-afraid that if he did the hunter might do something truly foolish. It hadn't taken him long to learn that when it came to the Winchesters, a split second could make all the difference.

It had been three long days since Castiel had made his initial offer. Three long days spent watching Dean hide in a hotel room and drink increasingly alarming amounts of alcohol while pouring over the local newspapers and the internet in the hopes of finding a hunt, because Bobby outright refused to hook him with one. Of course, even if he were to find one, Dean was so strung out on a lethal combination of booze, exhaustion and a lack of food that even the easiest of hunts would be enough to get him killed.

"Yeah, looks like he's thinking real hard," Gabriel said wryly as Dean drained the last of a bottle of vodka. The human was swaying uneasily, and a lesser man probably would've passed out a long time ago. But this was Dean, and the word stubborn couldn't even begin to describe just how single-minded he could be. And right now, Dean wanted to be as drunk as possible while still remaining conscious.

"He passed the point of being able to think logically some time ago," Castiel admitted.

"So what are you waiting for, then?"

"I want Dean to come with me of his own free will, Gabriel."

"Ah yes, that whole consent business Dad made us all agree to." Gabriel hummed softly and straightened up, folding his arms. "Frankly I don't see why you want to do this anyway, Cassie. You know most of heaven has no particular fondness for any Winchester, much less this one. You won't be doing yourself any favors."

"Dean needs this."

"I'm not going to argue that, if this is how well he's doing on his own. I just don't see why you have to be the one to provide it to him."

"He's my friend."

"Yeah, well, I love Sam, but you don't see me asking the Sasquatch if he'd like to become my baby."

Castiel tipped his head and gave his brother his best knowing look, pleased when Gabriel's cheeks reddened ever so slightly. "Dean needs someone strong and capable of understanding him, but also someone that he can trust. The two of us already share a profound bond, which I believe will make the process easier on him. I know him."

"Cassie -"

"He needs proof that he's never returning to hell."

That stopped Gabriel, just as Castiel had known that it would. Both angels looked back at the only human in the room. Dean was still standing, though he was wobbling a lot more, and finally seemed to decide it was time to sit. He half-fell onto one of the creaky motel beds, nearly ending up on the floor. But he didn't lie down. He just sat there on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, hands loose in his lap, an empty look in his eyes.

It was one of the saddest, most defeated sights Castiel had ever been witness to.

"Damn," Gabriel muttered, letting out a low whistle as he successfully connected the dots.

"Exactly," Castiel said with a nod. Not everyone knew about the nightmares that Dean suffered from, but Castiel was aware that they were of hell and the torture Dean had suffered. More than once, when he'd stayed with Sam and Dean during his brief stint of becoming human, Dean had woken up choking on screams. He refused to talk about what he was dreaming about, but based on what Castiel had witnessed when he raised the hunter from perdition, they were things no human should ever have to deal with.

And Dean couldn't deal with it on his own. Chances were no human could, so it wasn't a reflection on Dean. But unlike most people, Dean refused to give up. He was determined to keep his problems hidden from his friends and family, when what he needed most was to be taken back to a time when he couldn't do that. Dean needed to be freed of the responsibilities and choices that weighed him down so he could start to heal. He needed time to focus on himself and the easy sort of day to day living that he'd never had the opportunity to experience.

Castiel could provide that for him. Ever since the day when he'd lifted Dean Winchester from hell, he'd wanted to. He remembered cradling Dean's soul in his grace. That broken, bleeding soul had clung to him, desperate for comfort and affection that Castiel had tried his best to provide in the brief time they had been together. He hadn't understood the desire at first, and he suspected that his attempts at the time had been paltry, but the more time he spent around Dean and the more he watched Dean struggle to keep those needs hidden, the more he understood that he wanted to love Dean.

This provided the perfect chance, and he hadn't been lying: Dean needed to know that he would never be returning to hell, no matter what happened. Castiel was positive that a good percentage of his nightmares were based on that scenario alone. And what better way than to turn him into an angel? Dean would have a new childhood, a better one where he was cared for and had no worries, and the reassurance he needed to heal. Castiel would have a nestling, and the assurance that Dean would be with him forever.

It was a situation where everyone could win, if only he could get Dean to see that.

"You're gonna have a hell of a fight on your hands anyway," Gabriel said finally, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "I know what you're planning, and he's not gonna be okay with that."

"He will," Castiel said confidently. Sam had shown him how to use the internet, and there was a wealth of information out there that Castiel had eagerly devoured long before he'd approached Dean. He was positive that he knew how to help Dean, just like he was sure that this was the best way to do it. It might have been slightly unorthodox, as most nestlings didn't revert to a mental state as young as he wanted Dean to, but never let it be said that Castiel was afraid of a challenge. Those nestlings weren't as damaged as Dean was.

Gabriel shook his head, but he was smirking. "Whatever you say, little bro. I'm outta here before the fireworks start. Maybe I'll go bug Sammy..."

"You're supposed to be leaving Sam alone!" Castiel said, but he was speaking to no one: Gabriel was gone. He sighed and made himself visible, but Dean was so trashed that he didn't even notice the appearance of someone else in the room. Even when Castiel moved closer and stood over him, it was nearly a full minute before Dean dragged his head up.

The sheer despair in Dean's expression, upon closer inspection, could have made the most emotionless angel cry. Dean looked like he was beaten, like he had fought for so hard and for so long that he didn't even know how to keep fighting, much less have the strength or will to. Castiel reached out and gently placed a hand on Dean's hair, running his fingers through the greasy strands. He wanted so much to scoop Dean up and sweep him away to somewhere that was safe and quiet and private, where Dean could really let go, but he had to be cautious.

"Cas," Dean whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. It took a lot of effort for him to drag them open again. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you, Dean. I wanted to know if you had thought about my offer."

Dean blinked again. "Thought you'd forget," he said.

"No. I didn't forget, and I won't no matter how long you try to stall for," Castiel told him. He used a small measure of grace to erase the alcohol from Dean's system, knowing that if he didn't Dean would wake up very ill. But it didn't make much difference. Dean was so exhausted from not sleeping that he continued to sway, now held up only by the hand on his head.

"You should," Dean mumbled. "I'm not good. Shouldn't be an angel. It's weird."

"It is not weird," Castiel said, already exasperated by those words, particularly when he suspected that he would be hearing them repeatedly for some time. "And becoming an angel is not necessarily an honor. I believe there is a reason you nicknamed us 'dick with wings'. But if anyone were deserving of such an honor, it would be you. You helped to save the world."

"So did Sammy."

"And Sam will get his, too, in time, but right now I'm more focused on you," Castiel murmured, stepping closer. He had his suspicions about Gabriel and Sam, though there was no point in saying as much out loud. Instead, he cupped his hand around the back of Dean's head and gently urged him forward. Dean was as responsive as a ragdoll, crumbling forward until his forehead made contact with Castiel's belly. He stayed there, face pressed to Castiel's shirt, taking in slow, shallow breaths.

Castiel stroked his hair again, noting the way that Dean tensed a little at the light pressure. It was like he couldn't - or didn't really know to - relax. "I want to take care of you, Dean," he said quietly. "If you are willing to let me."

"Why?" Dean sounded honestly confused, like this was a question he had repeatedly asked himself over the past three days.

"Because we're family."

It was the only answer that Castiel could give which might actually make it through Dean's stubborn head, and it seemed to work. Dean looked up at him in surprise, his eyebrows furrowing, the shock apparently waking him up a little more.

"I won't tell you that you're not going to find it awkward or uncomfortable or embarrassing, because you probably will. But that doesn't change the fact that I believe you need this, and that it will be good for you. If you'll let me, I think that once you let yourself go, you'll enjoy it."

"Not exactly making me want to jump on board here, Cas," Dean muttered sluggishly, but he didn't move away from the slow petting. "What are we talking, exactly?"

"It would be much easier for me to show you," Castiel pointed out, because he was reasonably sure that Dean would never agree to come with him if they had this talk here. This motel room was basically the Winchester life in a nutshell, and it would be far too easy for Dean to get caught up in thoughts of what was Normal and Acceptable, as humans so often did. Away from prying eyes, safe in a place that Castiel had created solely for them, he suspected Dean would be more open.

Dean shook his head slowly, like he was going to say no, but then he sighed. "Yeah, fine."

"Really?"

"I said yeah, didn't I?" Dean said grumpily, not quite snapping but on the verge of it. Because he was so clearly overtired and in a fragile state of mind, Castiel didn't reprimand him.

Instead, he stood back and watched as Dean stumbled around the room gathering his things together. He would have helped, but he had learned a long time ago that Dean and Sam were both very protective of their personal items and neither took well to having them touched, even by someone they considered family. It shouldn't have taken long, but Dean was so out of it he kept losing focus. He would pick something up and then just stand there and stare like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it until Castiel shifted or cleared his throat, and only then would he remember and the item go into his bag.

Finally, though, he was ready. He turned to Castiel, bag slung over one shoulder, and said, "Don't forget the Impala."

"I won't."

Even though Dean was clearly expecting the two fingers to his forehead, Castiel deliberately stepped into his personal space. Dean frowned, his mouth opening to protest the proximity, and Castiel cut him off by gathering Dean into his arms and wings. This squirming human felt so incredibly delicate in Castiel's grip, as though anything would be enough to break him irreparably. He tightened his grip until Dean went still and then, pleased, spread his wings and flew them both to their destination.