New Year's came and went in their time of waiting. Dean had marked each day off on the new calendar he had gotten for each day Sam had not woken up. Yet, as Dean crossed off the fifteenth day of January, his hopes remained high, and his corrected medicine pushed the demons away.

Warm arms wrapped around his torso, the tickle of Castiel's hair against his cheek and ear bringing a soft smile to his face. "Its been almost a month." Dean commented softly, putting the marker on the stand below the calendar.

"Don't give up hope, Dean. There's still time." Castiel said softly, kissing the side of Dean's neck. "How about I stay over for the night."

Dean turned in Castiel's arms, smiling at him with tired eyes. "When have I ever said no to that?" Dean asked, earning a cute grin from Castiel. They met in a soft chaste kiss before they intwined hands, heading to the small bedroom that Dean slept in. It wasn't extravagant as Castiel's home, but the bartender always told him how much he preferred the home-like quality of the place.

Castiel pulled Dean over to the bed, climbing on it and sitting by the pillow closest to the wall, a child-like stare on his features as Dean smiled, sliding over into the bed beside him. The bartender leaned against the headboard of the bed as Dean mimicked his position, staring at the wall in front of them several minutes before he spoke.

"Can you tell me about your abuse, Dean?" Castiel asked softly, earning a look from Dean. The bartender only looked back, a calm expression in his eyes.

"Why do you want to know?" Dean asked, his voice hesitant. Castiel shrugged, giving a small sigh.

"I want to know all I can about you." Castiel admitted, pulling the blanket further up his legs. "I want to understand both the good and the bad and be there for you when no one else can."

Dean couldn't find a way to argue with that and instead sighed, running his hand through his hair. "You really want to know? It's not exactly a good story." Dean warned.

"I'm ready if you are." Castiel responded, sliding his hand into Dean's. He took a deep breath, preparing for the long story and giving Castiel a small look of worry.

"My mother died when she gave birth to Sam. It was some complication, but it was no one's fault, just the flow of life." Dean began, furrowing his brows as he spoke. After all, it had been a lifetime ago since he told his therapist the story.

"My father grew depressed without Mom there and turned to drinking as a means to cope. He was...an angry drunk to say the least, and the first time he hit me was on Sam's first birthday after I dropped a toy on him and he started crying." Dean paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "He was so angry, and I remember threatening to kill me if I hurt Sam again. Needless to say, I stayed as far away from Sammy as I could."

"But Sam wanted nothing more than to be by me." Dean said at almost a whisper, a smile crossing his face at the memory. "His very first steps were trying to come to me. His first word was my name, even though he called me 'Bean' instead of 'Dean.' I grew attached to my brother, and every time my dad would go out to drink, I would play with him until he fell asleep."

Dean stopped for a moment, his eyes darkening. Castiel took Dean's hand to his mouth, kissing it in encouragement. "After Sam turned three though, it all went to hell. Sam was always adventurous, always grabbing and breaking things. It was one night John was drunk that he shattered a glass and dad got mad."

"He didn't dare hit Sammy though. After Mom died, Sam became like a link to her. Instead, he told me to clean up the mess and went to his room." Dean could feel his throat closing in on itself, and forced back tears, his body shaking just slightly.

"You don't have to continue, Dean." Castiel replied, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. Dean shook his head, letting out a small smile along with the tears.

"No, I can do this. I know I can." Dean said, blinking away the tears and wiping to make sure no moisture remained on his skin. "While I was cleaning up the mess, he came back with a leather belt and began to hit me. It had a metal bit on the end, which cut up my back and left welts over my skin. This continued until I passed out from the pain, and when I woke up, Sam was there, calling me 'Bean' like he always did until he turned eight. After that, Sam became an anchor, something that gave me a reason to stay and protect him from out father.

"Up until I was seventeen, the beatings continued, each one worse than the last. He didn't even find a reason to hit me after a while; he just did. It was the worst night I ever had that I tried to..." Dean stopped, looking at his lap in shame before forcing out those terrible words. "Kill myself."

"You mean..." Castiel asked, his eyes lighting up with concern. "The gun wasn't the first time."

Dean shook his head, letting out a soft sigh. "I stabbed myself in the stomach the first time." Dean said, his hand sliding over the scar that was hidden under the shirt. "I didn't want to but it was so much pain and my mind was messed up already and I just couldn't take it anymore. I could feel myself dying as I laid on the floor and I'll never forget the panic on Sam's face when he found me or when John tried to drag him away."

"I could really remember after that, but when I woke up in the hospital, I learned that Sam had killed dad with a knife through his skull. Neither of us cried, but I could remember feeling so free. After I got out, I even dragged Sam to a field where we lit firework and we were both happy for the first time in out lives."

Dean fell silent after that, and Castiel stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm sorry for the pain you suffered, Dean." Castiel finally said, his eyes bright with emotion. Dean only gave him a shaky smile, taking a breath as he realized he did it.

"I'm just glad it's finally over."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\

The night stretched on for the two men as they talked, confiding in each other minute after minute, hour after hour. The things they shared, the stories Dean told, he had never even shared with Sam. The secrets he had kept, the darkest on that not another living soul knew leaked from his mouth, unable to stop himself from spilling everything to Castiel.

Castiel had finally fallen asleep at three in the morning, exhaustion finally catching up with him. Dean didn't mind though, as the thoughts in his head that used to cause him pain and suffering were ones of comfort, easing through his memories and putting a bandage over them, lessening the pain that came with them and leaving a sense of triumph at finally overcoming his father's hold.

He didn't fall asleep until dawn was already showing itself, but Dean didn't mind because he knew that everything was going to be alright.