"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean responded, distantly.

"You know something caused that fire. Something burned your house to the ground," Cas began, stepping back into the room.

"Stop talking," Dean whispered, his teeth clenched.

"Your dad obsessed over it. He knew something started that fire. Didn't he? That's why strange men showed up at your door and took him away."

He glanced at Cas. "Shut up."

"That's why you grew up with your uncle, Bobby: the mechanic. That's why you have a thing for cars. That's why you're afraid to love someone because you think they will be taken away from you again."

"Cas..." Dean croaked.

"And that's why you don't believe in religion or Christmas or God," Cas took a step closer, standing directly in front of Dean. "And, that's why you don't believe in me."

Cas could see Dean's entire thought process before his eyes. He was confused, then he was angry, and then he was scared. He's so scared in everything he thought was true, actually being true. His wound was wide open and Cas was peering inside. If only Dean knew Cas could be the one to stitch him up.

"How did my mom die?" Dean whispered, his lips barely moving.

"A demon killed her and started that fire. We killed it a year and a half later. You don't have to fear it anymore," Cas explained, his voice low.

"A demon?" Dean breathed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Those aren't real. None of this is real. Stop telling me these things!"

Dean turned on his heels and put his hands through his hair.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? This is some kind of sick nightmare!" Dean laughed, walking towards the fridge in the kitchen.

"Dean, this isn't a dream. I truly am an angel of the Lord."

"And my mother was murdered by a demon!" Dean exclaimed. He pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge. He opened it and drank half the bottle in one gulp.

"Okay, okay, mister 'homeless angel'. Where is this God? Huh? I've never seen him. Nobody has seen him! Is he just standing by watching everyone on this hell of an earth? Why does he do nothing about our suffering?" Dean questioned.

"Actually, nobody on Earth has seen God. And—"

"—Actually, I don't care. I don't care because this is all bullshit," Dean shrugged, finishing off the bottle and opening a new one.

"Dean, you close yourself up so much. It's frustrating," Cas snapped, losing his temper.

Dean paused, pursing his lips with the bottle between his fingers.

"I know," He admitted, coldly. "I close myself off so bad things don't happen and look? They still do. My life is full of bad things. That's why I don't believe. I don't understand and I can't— I can not have any more fucking awful things happen to me... or to my family anymore."

"God helps those who help themselves," Cas whispered.

"Heh," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "If only it were that simple."

Cas sighed, stepping towards Dean and extending his arms. Dean huffed but set his beer on the kitchen table anyways. Dean almost chuckled as Cas wrapped his thin arms around him. He was getting good at this hugging thing.

"You like hugs?" Dean asked into his hair.

"I like hugging you. It's like, I can feel your soul through my skin," Cas answered, muffled against Dean's shoulder.

"Don't make it weird, now, Angel Boy," Dean joked, patting Cas on the back to keep it platonic.

Cas slowly backed away and shivered from the lack of warmth. "It's true. I was an Angel and now I'm just... human. It's different."

"Heh. You're telling me," Dean muttered, meeting Castiel's eyes.

They both took a moment to breath. Simply enjoying each other's presence and thinking how insane it was that Dean had an ex-angel standing in his kitchen. And, it didn't feel the slightest bit different. He was still just Cas to Dean. Whether he was an angel or a human, it didn't matter, not to Dean.

"Do I still need to leave?" Cas asked, breaking the silence.

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his beer and taking a sip. "No. I can't throw you out in the snow again. I was a jerk to even say that to you."

Cas shrugged and tugged at the shirt Dean let him burrow. "At least I would have had new clothes."

Dean had to smile at that one. So, he did. He relaxed and shook his head and laughed. And, it felt good. Really good.

They eventually made their way into the living room and Dean dug out a deck of cards. He tried to teach Cas a game of Cribbage and Speed but the "not quite an angel" couldn't seem to follow the rules.

"Did you just look at my hand?" Dean accused him during cribbage, giving Cas a stern look.

"Ah, no. That's ridiculous. I'm just comparing our cards."

"Cas! You have to pick up a card when you put one down!" Dean reminded him during their game of Speed, seeing that Cas had no cards left in his hand.

"I'm out of cards," Cas corrected.

"No, Cas, see you still have that whole pile in front of you to get rid of before you win!" Dean explained, again.

Cas frowned, studying the pile in front of him, "I don't think that's how it works."

"YOU'RE NOT LISTENING."

===========================

"Why don't you have any Christmas decorations?" Cas asked. Dean looked up from picking up the cards he threw across the room. Speed can turn into a very intense game.

"Because I don't have time to do that crap," Dean grunted, bending over to pick up a few more cards.

"Would you put some up if I helped you?" Cas asked, standing up from the floor to help Dean pick up the cards.

"I mean, sure, I guess. But I don't have any decorations," Dean responded, glancing curiously at Cas.

"Can't we just go buy some?"

Dean laughed. "First of all, it's expensive. And second, it's Christmas Eve. Not a lot of stores are open today or tomorrow."

Cas shrugged. "I bet Wal-Mart is open."

Dean made a face. "How do you even know what Wal-Mart is?"

Cas turned to face Dean. "I'm an angel, you ass, not some parasite that lived under a rock for the past hundred centuries."

Dean glanced up at Cas, surprised. "Angel got attitude?"