Dean sat in his therapist's office, relaxing on the soft chair as he stared up at the ceiling. He felt better than usual, and he knew that it was all because of Castiel.

"You seem happy this morning." Mrs. Hill commented, crossing one leg over her lap as she studied Dean. "Usually when you're here, you're scowling at me."

"I'm going on a date." Dean replied, the thought finally sinking in as he smiled to himself, the idea of going out with Castiel making his body buzz with new energy. When he looked at Mrs. Hill, he was greeted with a brightly lit face of surprise.

"That's great, Dean! Who's the lucky girl?" His therapist asked, making him wince just the smallest bit. He glanced towards the floor uncomfortably, his mood dropping the smallest bit.

"I'm going out with a guy." Dean mumbled in correction. Mrs. Hill blushed at her mistake, but didn't give any indication of disgust as she shook her head.

"Sorry. Who's the lucky guy then?"

"His name is Castiel. He's a bartender at The Rose and Crown." Dean answered, and although he was a bit hesitant, he felt his smile return at the thought of Castiel. Mrs. Hill's eyes only glowed in recognition.

"Isn't he the one that makes the Purple Nurple drink?" Mrs. Hill asked, letting out a light laugh as Dean gave her a surprised nod. "He sure is a cutie. I hope the both of you have fun."

Dean grinned, liking his therapist just a little bit better now. "I'm sure we will."

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When Dean knocked on the door to Castiel's house, he was greeted with a wild-haired bartender in an old t-shirt. Castiel pulled him inside, closing the door behind them and smiling apologetically at the Winchester.

"Sorry. Anna is making me paint her art room after Balthazar messed it up. She's threatened to kick me out three times this morning, so I couldn't put it off until after our date." Castiel explained, running his hand through his hair and leaving behind smears of light blue paint.

"Kicking you out? Isn't that a bit extreme?" Dean asked with one arched brow. Castiel just shrugged.

"That's Anna for you, but if you'll give me an hour or two, I'll get done and we can go out to eat like we planned." Castiel responded.

"I could help. You'd get done faster." Dean offered, not waiting for Castiel's response as he pulled off his jacket and laying it over one of the chairs. He left the rest of his clothes on though, not really caring if they got covered in paint or not.

"If you want." Castiel answered, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs and down to the last doorway before the turn, where easels, a desk, and other art supplies rested. Inside, the walls were cream and covered in strange colors, except for the one that was the same light blue that was in Castiel's hair.

"Got an extra roller?" Dean asked, looking around the room with a wrinkled nose at the clash of splattered color across the wall. He moved over to the package that Castiel pointed to, pulling a paint roller out of the pack before grabbing an extra handle and attaching it. 

"So why is you're sister making you do this? Shouldn't she do this herself?" Dean asked, running his brush through the paint before placing it on the wall and creating a line of paint behind it as he began. Castiel shrugged, his own brush moving at the other side of the wall.

"She said something about working all day and not having the time." Castiel responded, moving back to get more paint. Dean wrinkled his nose, a fleck of paint catching him on the cheek.

"Oh, she's one of those people." Dean commented. Castiel didn't respond, but nodded before they fell silent with their work. They worked quickly together, and were already on the third wall in just half an hour.

Dean turned to get more paint, and he was greeted with a small yelp as Castiel tripped over the bucket, falling forwards and straight into Dean. He barely caught the poor bartender, dropping his paint roller onto the plastic that covered the floor.

"Sorry." Castiel mumbled, turning red in the face as he pushed off of Dean. "I got paint all over you."

Dean looked down at the streak of light blue that striped across the chest of his shirt, Castiel's paint roller suspiciously missing some paint and hanging from his hand in almost dejected manner. He couldn't help but smile, running his finger through the paint and giving the forlorn bartender a reassuring smile.

"I'm a painted whore now." Dean joked, leaning down and picking up his own paint roller. When he looked back at Castiel, the man stared at him with confusion in his eyes and a tipped head.

"You're not mad?" Castiel asked, squinting his eyes. Dean shook his head.

"Of course not. Besides..." Dean paused, reaching out and running the brush across Castiel's cheek and down onto his chest. "Looks like you're a painted whore too."

Castiel's surprised face forced a laugh out of Dean, unable to stop his heart from skipping a beat as a smile took its place on the bartender's features.

"You assbutt." Castiel said, letting a little laugh of his own as he moved back to the bucket of paint. Dean watching in confusion, only for his eyes to widen as Castiel dipped his hand in the blue liquid, an innocent look on his face.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" Dean questioned suspiciously, taking a step back from Castiel. The bartender's smile merely widened as he got closer. 

He flicked his wrist and Dean, and the wall behind him, were splattered in droplets of paint. His mouth fell open in disbelief at Castiel actually doing it, a challenge lighting up his eyes with a fire.

"I'm going to get you for that." Dean growled mischievously, grinning as he lunged after Castiel. The bartender raced to the other side of the room, a playful look in his eyes.

"You have to catch me first." Castiel commented, a mocking tone coming into his voice. Dean dunked his hand in the paint, not giving it the time for any of the paint to drip off before he was slinging at Castiel, spatters crossing his face the still unpainted wall.

"Revenge is mine." Dean announced with a grin, laughing as Castiel shot him a glare. The bartender stalked over to him, the twinkle in his eyes betraying his fake anger as he grabbed Dean by the shirt.

"How about this?" Castiel responded, sliding his paint-covered hand along Dean's cheek before leaning in, letting their lips press together gently. Dean instantly responded back, a smile crossing his face as his hands found Castiel's waist.

They pulled apart slowly, both of them reluctant to leave each other's touch as Dean rested his forehead on Castiel's, his smile still lingering on his face as he gently pulled Castiel closer into a partial hug.

"I guess you win." Dean said softly, easing a light laugh out of Castiel as he kissed Dean again, they're lips moving languidly together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was crying, his frail body curled in Dean's lap, holding tightly onto him. Dean didn't question that Sam was a little kid again, but instead wrapped his arms around him in gentle comfort.

"Don't leave, Dean. Don't leave like Mommy left." Sam cried, his voice still slurred with the baby-like accent of young children.

"I won't leave. I promise, Sammy." Dean replied, letting his little brother cry into his chest. He slid his hand up Sam's back comfortingly, only to freeze when he felt a wet stickiness.

"Sammy? Are you bleeding?" Dean asked, panic camping into his voice as Sam slowly raised his head, his skin beginning to pale unnaturally.

"You didn't mean to....I don't blame you." Sam said, smiling weakly as he coughed, blood flecking his lips. Dean pushed away in shock, turning and seeing the walls had become mirrors. Green eyes turned to yellow, and he barely had time to scream before blood began filling the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was snapped awake in a cold sweat, his throat burning and gasps leaving his lips as his chest heaved for air. Tears stained his cheeks, his gaze staring at the concerned blue eyes that hovered above him.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Castiel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as Dean let out a shuddering sob, reaching up and wrapping his arms around the bartender, fear making his heart race as he cried.

"What's going on here?" He heard a female voice say. He didn't care though, the memory of Sam making him feel like he was going to throw up. Castiel shifted, his arms strong and comforting as they eased around Dean and pulled him into a sitting position.

"He had a nightmare." Castiel responded, rubbing Dean's back in a way that had the Winchester shaking with fresh tears and sobs. "I've got him. Go on, Anna."

"I could help." The girl's voice, who Dean figured was Anna, protested. He didn't want her near him though. Her very voice made it clear that she could not be trusted.

"Just go!" Dean shouted into Castiel's shoulder, hot tears flooding his face as he held tighter to the bartender, making Castiel jump against him. Nevertheless, it got his point across and he could hear the woman scowl, the click of her heels echoing across the hard floor.

Neither of them spoke until the clicks faded. When they did though, Castiel eased Dean off his shoulder, his hand finding Dean's cheek and wiping away the tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Castiel asked, the warmth in his eyes making Dean's throat clench as he shook his head, taking a shuddering breath.

"Is there anything you need?" Castiel questioned, only letting go when Dean pulled away.

"I...I just need time to think." Dean responded, his voice meek as he shook his head. Castiel had nothing but understanding in his eyes as he helped Dean collect his things, only saying a soft 'bye' as Dean walked out the door.