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~~~~~~~~~
Castiel watched in silence as Dean begged to the sky for assistance and guidance amongst the rows and stacks of cars and spare parts. Finally, it hurt too much and he said, "Dean."
The hunter swallowed hard trying to pull himself together, still he didn't turn to face his angel when he spoke. "Shouldn't you be watching Sam?"
Castiel ignored the harsh edge in Dean's voice, knowing full well where the sting came from. "Sam is secure," he took a step closer to the Impala, "and he does not need me." Cas slid closer, until he was certain he was inside Dean's personal space, "You however do."
"Cas," he ran his hand along the familiar contours of the car's hood, "I'm not who or what you need in this fight."
"I heard what Famine said. You do realize his words were lies."
"No Cas," Dean rounded to face the angel, "no they weren't. Look at me, Cas! Do you see what I am?"
Brow furrowed, "I see the only being in the world I trust completely outside of God, Himself."
"But he, it didn't affect me. It even got to you."
The corners Castiel's mouth pulled up in a slight, almost hopeful smile. "Dean, don't you see? You were effected, the things we think you would normally desire held no interest for you."
"So?" he scoffed, the angry edge sneaking back in his voice.
"Someone truly dead inside would suffer no reaction to Famine," Cas' smile broke softly across his face. "You were effected, Dean, but not how other mortals would have been." Castiel stopped his speech, moving until he was nose to nose with his hunter. "You are not dead," he pressed his palm firmly against Dean's solar plexus, "your soul is not empty, it's pure."
Dean barked out a laugh and backed away from his angel's warm, comforting touch. "Nice try, Cas. But come on, I'm Michael's meatsuit. It'd be too much trouble for there to be anything real inside here!" Dean's voice rose steadily until he was yelling at the sky, stumbling backwards, beer forgotten in a puddle by the front tire of the Impala, stopping only when he felt his back hit the wall. And he let out a pained disparaging cry.
Before the cry had completely left Dean's lips, Cas was there, pressing him to the wall, glaring at the hunter. "Your heart and your soul have nothing, he growled, "to do with being Michael's vessel, and everything to do with you." He pushed Dean roughly against the wall and vanished in a rustle of wings.
Frustrated and angry, and more confused than he'd been when he first came outside, Dean flipped off the Heaven's at large and headed towards the house.
Having gone to the center of the salvage yard, not wanting to put too much distance between himself and his hunter, Castiel grimaced and paced.
Secure in thinking they were out of earshot of anyone else, both men began to fume.
"Stupid..."
"Insufferable..."
"...trusting..."
"...blind..."
"...featherbrained..."
"...exasperating..."
"...bastard!"
"...human!"
Dean thumped an unsuspecting tire that had the misfortune of being in range. He wished he didn't care about the damn angel so much then maybe his words wouldn't hurt so badly and maybe he wouldn't want them to be true.
Eventually, he returned to the panic room to keep an eye or ear on Sammy.
That's were Cas found him hours latter, sitting, fresh beer in hand with his back to the door.
The hunter didn't react to Castiel's approach, letting the angel invade his personal space once again. Dean took a swig of his beer, effectively ignoring his angel.
Castiel leant his back against the wall an began to speak. He voice was a low rumble, lacking the hard edge it usually held, "From the moment we are created, we are told to serve God, to deny any thought or feeling that is not His word; to deny and bury our desires.
Jimmy's desire for red meat, and this body's remembrance of that, was not something I was prepared for. As it was," he looked to the ceiling as if forcing his eyes elsewhere would make his words less real or perhaps make the conversation disappear, "it was probably for the best. Millennia of desire unleash on the world let alone the one..." Castiel shuffled his feet, turning away from Dean. "As I said it was for the best."
"Why are you telling me this, Cas?" Dean asked, voice calmer than his bearing would suggest.
"Because I refuse to believe," Castiel lowered himself, turning to face Dean, eye to eye, "that the one thing I truly desire is nothing, hollow, empty, or dead."
"Cas." Dean wanted to believe. Believe he wasn't empty and that his angel could possibly feel for him the same way he felt for the angel. "Why then? And don't feed me that ‘pure soul' crap," he snapped.
"Dean from birth you have been through more trials than any of your so-called Saints, you always, without fail or thought, put others before yourself, you deny yourself love and safety for the good of people who don't even know you exist. It is you that buried your desires so deeply that they turned into things beyond want, so when Famine tried to release his powers on you, you did what you have done your entire life- turned it in on itself." Cas let his guard down, willing Dean to see the truth in his ocean blue eyes. Softly, barely above a whisper he added, "A man with an empty soul could never win the heart of an angel."
"Cas?"
The angel's eyes drifted closed as he leant in for what he hoped would be the first of many kisses shared with his hunter.