Once upon a December, where the temperature was low, and the snow danced to the grounds of Lawrence, there was but a man amongst his family. He had married her, and adapted to the son that she already had before their marriage. She was called Lisa, and her son was called Ben. And the man that decided to take upon these personnels, was Dean—Winchester.

He did everything he could to make these two people smile; if it was through the simplest things, they wouldn't mind, it was the thought that counted. Dean was a poor soul, brought up in hardship, having the responsibility to raise his only brother, Sam. He never had the chance to live normally—such as everyone else. But he could only thank his past to bringing him up to the man he is now. Right?

One morning, his wife Lisa preparing coffee, as Dean put on his best suit, getting ready for his next day at work. He fixed his tie, and brushed his coat, making sure not one speck of dust was in sight. Dean was a tax accountant. It wasn't something he wanted to be, but it put bread on the table. And that's all cared about. He'd walk into Ben's room, to kiss the still sleeping boy goodbye. He stared at him for a bit, with no expression. This was not his son, but it felt like it. He arose and drifted into the kitchen, to greet his loving wife with a kiss, as he took the mug from her hand.

"Have a good day at work hon." She would say, rubbing his shoulder, and looking up to his bright green eyes. Dean smiled, replying with a no problem, and walked out the front door, sipping his coffee. He walked down the steps of thier two story house, which he gladly appreciated. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door to his nineteen sixty-seven Chevy, an automobile he adored. He plopped inside, and set his coffee down. Not long, he was on the road.

Hours and hours of money this, and tax that, and save here, and spend there, he was getting restless of all the stuff be obviously didn't want to hear about. Dean rubbed his eyes, the man was tired, and bored. He spent years doing this, he needed excitement in his life. And it wasn't found through other people's financial problems. After work, he closed up his office, and walked out if the industrial nightmare. Chills went down his spine as he embraced the cool air the night carried in. He rushed to his car, and got in, receiving small relief from the temperature.

On his way home, he took a different route. Since his regular one was blocked by a car accident. The street was dull, with streetlight people walking up and down the sidewalk. The lights luminated red, a coarse color. He looked around, searching for a way to escape the intimidating street. When a sudden sound caught his attention:

"NO! PLEASE!"

Dean lturned his head to see a man getting beaten on the side of a building. He pressed on the breaks, and parked the car. He jumped out and charged at the person, pushing him off of the man. He person came back, getting ready to attack. Dean dodged every swing the man gave, and elbowed him in the abdomen. Then he punched his face twice, on each side. The person stumbled backward, and Dean kicked him to the ground, hitting him again several times as he held onto his collar. Once the person showed no more signs of movement, he stood up straight, and panted. He turned around to the man, he was on the ground, holding onto his face. Dean walked over, and crouched down, grabbing his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" Dean asked, slightly panting from his fight. The man flinched at his voice and looked up. Dean caught himself staring into the brightest blue. And yes—the were definately blue. He had a black eye, with sevral other bruises on his body. He was wearing a thin shirt, that barely even reached his waist. His pants were torn, and dirty with watered mud, and dirt from the ground. He had no shoes, and hair was messy.

"Thank you..." He replied finally, with a voice that sent Dean's mind sailing.

"What was he beating you up for?" Dean asked, curiousity getting the best of him.

"I... didn't do my job right. And he got a little mad..." He forced a chuckle, looking down. Dean stared at him once more, finally realizing what he was. Him, in clothes as such, in a street like this—the answer was obvious.

"You're a prostitute." Dean breathed out. Castiel flinched at the word.

"I'm desperate." He corrected, with a angry tone in his voice.

"For sex?"

"For survival." He looked up, those blue eyes hurt, as they told a story. "I couldn't make it on my own... So I only fell to the one thing eaisest to resort to." He stared off into the street. Dean felt guilty, how he remembered how he was complaining about his boring life in the office. This man has clearly been through plenty.

"What's your name?" He asked.

".... Castiel. Or also known as 'Fallen Angel', according to the streets." Castiel answered, swallowing hard. "You?"

"Dean, Winchester." Dean replied, with no hesitation. Castiel paused, and just stared at Dean. He was lost in a hypnosis. And Dean only seemed to be the same. Shortly, he cleared his throat and looked away. "Come with me, I'll take you to a motel, and get you a room."

"Really? That's so kind." Castiel replied.

"Well, considering your situation, a little bit won't hurt." He smiled. It caused him to smile.

"Only one problem Ranger Rick," He commented. "I can't feel my legs. The guy took a real hit on me."

"I can fix that." At that moment, Dean picked him up and swung him over his shoulder, causing him to squeal.

"Is this the way of you picking someone off the street?!" Castiel shouted, hanging on for dear life.

"Nope. Its the way I deal with problems. I toss them over my shoulder." Dean replied. Castiel huffed, Dean felt his skin, how smooth it was for someone that's been on the street for so long, touched by God knows how many others. He walked over to his car and open the door, gently putting him inside. Castiel scanned it.

"This is your car?" He asked.

"Mhm. Finest you'll see." Dean replied.

"I know." Castiel assured, but actually looking at Dean's body. He didn't notice Castiel staring at him, so he jogged over to the drivers seat and got in.

That night, Dean got him a room at a motel not to far from his own home. He left his card with him, in any case of emergency. Castiel nodded, and thanked him once more. When he returned to his family, he didn't greet them like he normally would. He went straight up the stairs and stripped, and fell to his bed, where he sighed and got comfortable. A while later, Lisa joined in with him, rubbing his back and kissing his head.

"How was your day?" Lisa asked, her voice soft as she played with the hairs on the back of Dean's head.

"Long. Boring." Dean replied under his breath, already falling asleep. Lisa giggled, and cuddled next to Dean, as he wrapped his arm around her.

"I love you.." Lisa smiled.

"Yeah, I know." Dean replied, spacing out.

In the middle of the night, the blaring sound of his cellphone woke him up. He stretched, and sigh heavily, as he turns over and grabbed his phone and answered it: "Hello? Mr. Winchester speaking." He said, in a raspy, tired voice.

"Dean." He heard Castiel's voice.

"Castiel?" He perked up surprised. "What are you calling me for? Do you what time it is?!" Dean whispered, angrily.

"Yes I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't sleep."

"Well try again! I have to work tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow's Saturday Dean. I thought people didn't work on Saturday's."

"Whatever! I'm tired!" Dean huffed.

"Can you come over here sometime? I did need to talk with you."

"About what?" Dean asked. And after that, Castiel hung up. Dean fell back to his bed, looking up at the ceiling debating if he should go or not. But, curiousity won over his self arguement, and he decided to go anyway. He turned over and drifted off into sleep again.

The next morning, he got out of bed early, since he was used to it. He put on some ordinary clothes, including jeans, a black shirt, and a plaid button up on top. He then grabbed a piece of paper and wrote: Lisa, I was called for an over night conference in another town in Kansas. I will be gone for about three days. I left early, so I could catch the bus. Don't wait up for me. -Dean. Dean looked down to his note. How it was a pure document of lies. But still, he placed it on his pillow and walked out the door. Down the stairs aand out of the house. He jumped in his car, and started it, pulling onto the road and driving off.

Once he got to the motel, he banged on Castiel's room door, waiting for an answer. There was an unexpected cold front, and the wind it made caused him to shiver. He called out Castiel's name. Shortly after, he answered the door, in only his underwear and the thin shirt he had. Dean avoided to look at him.

"Dean. So nice to see you. Come on in." Castiel invited, stepping back so he could walk in. And Dean did, Castiel closing the door behind him.

"What did you want? Calling me at three in the morning, it's ridiculo—" Before he could finish his sentence, Castiel had him pinned against the wall. He had his face close to Dean's, he could feel the breath coming out of his nose. "What are you doing?!" He asked, shocked.

"I saw the way you were looking at me last night Dean Winchester," He smiled. "And the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid." Dean's cheek started to heat up, as Castiel spoke in a soft voice. There's no way. He was married and had a good kid. He was wrong. Castiel forced his lips on Dean, holding both of his wrists to the wall. Dean made a face, struggling to be free, but, for skme reason, he didn't use all his strength. Something  kept him from actually trying to be set loose, but what? I don't want this. I don't want this. I have Lisa. I have Lisa, Dean thought in his head as Castiel forced his tongue into his mouth. But still, he showed no signs of hesitation. He just allowed it. Castiel brought him forward, and tossed him on the bed, climbing on top of him, like a lion ready to attack it's prey.

"Castiel, don't shame yourself any further by doing this..." Dean said, trying to cop his way out of the situation.

"Oh Dean, you know very little about me." Castiel responded, placing a hand on Dean's abdomen. "I wasn't really the lucky one."

"What makes you think you are right now?" Dean added, looking up to him. Castiel smiled, and lowered to whisper into his ear.

"Because you're not saying no." Castiel bit on Dean's ear, and slid his hand down to his pants, just to undo the button and zipper, and reach into his boxers. Dean let out a silent moan, as Castiel played with him, stroking, and rubbing. No, I can't. I can't do this, Dean kept thinking, but eventually, the thought disappeared when Castiel stripped him of his pants and button up. Dean gripped onto the bed sheet, as he felt himself getting harder. Castiel kissed his neck, and slid the black shirt off of Dean, touching, and rubbing against his bare skin, the salts in their sweat mixing. It wasn't before long that Castiel took off his own thin shirt, revealing the many more bruises he had on his ribcage, and cuts—that looked like whips—on his back. How could people be so cruel? Especially to someone as broken as he, Dean questioned himself, feeling all the scars on Castiel's body. Castiel traced his hands down the curves of Dean's body, till he got to the elastic of his boxers, which he pulled off. Dean's face burnt up, as Castiel began to remove his own undergarment, lick his top lip at the same time. He brought Dean to sit up, so he could wrap his arms around his neck as he pleasured himself. Dean held onto Castiel's sides, as the other panted against his mouth.

"I'll never forgive you for this..." Dean whispered, sliding his hands to wrap around Castiel's body. "You're making me cheat on my wife, a sin I never wanted to commit."

"No one is making you do anything..." Castiel replied, putting his mouth on Dean's ear. "Besides... it takes two to sin." After those words, Castiel pulled Dean on top of him, pulling him down to kiss roughly. Dean couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Castiel's legs, pushed them upward and slammed into him, causing him to scream pleasurably. Dean continued his roughness, as he kissed Castiel again. But Castiel couldn't keep up with Dean's lips, for the moans kept slipping past his own. Castiel suffered from a major orgasm, causing him to come. It drove Dean insane. He picked up his pace, forcing more and more each time. Castiel yelled Dean's name, and metioned God's too. Dean forgot about his wife, the family he had, the life he owned. He disappeared into another world with Castiel, just them two alone.

Hours later, the sun died down and it was evening, Dean laid in the motel bed, rested on his side and stared at the wall. He kept questioning himself, his mind running a million miles per hour. How could he do this? How could he cheat on his wife, who loved him dearly, with another man? He wasn't homosexual, what made him give into another of the same sex? What would happen if she were to find out? How he lied, just so he could over here? Just then, his phone rang. He hesitantly reached for it, and answered.

"Hello?" He spoke softly.

"Oh, hey baby. I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He heard Lisa's voice. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay... You haven't texted or anything, I didn't know if you were busy or not—"

"I'm fine Lisa. Don't worry about me. I'll be home soon, okay?" He replied, holding back all the degrading feeling he had.

"Okay Dean, work hard." She replied. "I love you."

Dean stayed silent for a bit, letting out a deep breath silently. "Yeah. I know." And he hung up after that. He set his phone down and laid back on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Castiel flipped over, and rested his head on his hand, his elbow against the bed. A smile grew on his face as he brushed Dean's hair.

"Was that wifey?" He asked, his expression unchanged.

"Yes—" Dean replied. "Yes it was."

"Forget her Dean, forget that life. It wasn't what you wanted was it?" Castiel reasoned. "Do you honestly want to live the rest of your life as a lame tax accountant? And go home to a son that's not even yours ?"

"And what you I possibly be with you?!" Dean replied, insulted. Castiel looked into his green eyes, and gently kissed his soft lips, pulling back to reply:

"Free."

After the days he promised in the note, he returned home. It was nighttime, and he walked in on his asleep family. He stared around the house, looking at everything—soaking in memories. He carefully walked up the stairs and looked into Ben's room. He watched how he was sleeping. He smiled small, until he felt someone jerk him backward. It was Lisa, she had an outraged face. She pushed him into the bedroom and locked the door.

"How dare you even walk into this house!" She yelled a whisper.

"What are you talking about?!" Dean replied, confused.

"Do you think I'm stupid? You don't have over night conferences. EVER." Lisa added, walking closer. Dean swallowed hard. "I checked your GPS, and I read that you were in a motel not to far from here. How could you lie to mean Dean?! How ?!"

"I—"

"What's her name?"

"Huh?"

"Don't be coy with me. What's her fucking name?" Dean stayed silent for a bit. He didn't want to answer.

"Castiel." He replied anyway.

"What kind of name is that?!"

"It's the name of a man, Lisa. A man. A prostitute." Dean looked up to her. She covered her mouth and back away in disgust. She showed great abhorrence, asking herself how her husband can do such a thing. He tried to touch her, but she only back away with her hands up.

"Don't touch me." She said cruelly, glaring up to him.

"Lisa—"

"Get out."

"What?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Lisa screamed, bursting into sobs. Dean didn't argue, he quickly left the room, and ran down the stairs. He knew nothing good would come out of what he did. But why did he do it? He slammed the front door behind him, got into his car and drove off. He drove until he reached the motel, fierecly getting out of his car and banging on Castiel's door. It wasn't long until he answered the door. Dean pushed himself inside and slammed the door behind him. He was full of utter rage.

"YOU! YOU RUINED MY MARRIGE!" Dean yelled, pointing at him.

"Last I recall, you fucked me." Castiel said, in a calm voice. "Nobody stopped you. You were doing it all on your own."

"YOU STARTED IT!" Dean argued.

"And you, my good sir, ended it." Castiel walked up to him, placing hands on his shoulders. Dean panted, looking into the blue eyes he spiraled down to hell for.

"I don't know what to do anymore..." Dean whimpered. Castiel cupped his face and smiled small, full of sympathy.

"Run away with me." He replied softly, and kissed him meaningfully. Dean kissed back, wrapping his arms around his body, holding him tight. Castiel kept his eyes closed, enjoying every moment he had. Was it fate they met on the street that night? Was it not meant to be with Lisa, even if they've been married for years? It felt like so.

A month later, Lisa is still in the two-story house, alone, as her son was at school. She was depressed, since Dean left, and slightly regretted telling him to leave. Now she had to work, pay the bills, and do everything around the house. Dean still had belongings at the house, which she would cry over. Lisa was going through mail, tossing each envolope until she came upon a red one. Confused, she red her name what was written on the front. She quickly opened it and pulled out a letter. She cried tears as she read:

Lisa,

I'm sorry for what I did to you. I truely am. But, I felt like something wasn't right with my life. I left with Castiel, the only one who seems to understand me. I wish you the best, and hopefully you find someone much better than me. A better husband to you, and a better father to Ben.

And on the bottom of the page, was his wedding ring tapped to the paper. Lisa tore it off and stared at it, covering her mouth, to prevent sudden bursts of sobs. Under the place it was taped, it was signed:

Farewell Lisa,

Scarlett Letter.