"When are you being deployed?" Dean asked, looking over at Mills with a cup of coffee nestled in his hand. Castiel was sipping on his own, having been forced to get some by Dean when he had mentioned that he had never tried it other than black. Mills was sitting across from them, dutifully picking at her breakfast, a healthy glow back in her face now that she was beginning to eat again.

"Two weeks," Mills answered, smiling at them, her expressions more warm and open than before. She pushed her plate away, the food only half eaten, but she didn't seem to mind, "Where do you two plan to go after this?"

"The shrink said we should stay together," Dean explained, a slight twitch in his lips as he flushed underneath Mills' smirk, "It's not for the reason you think."

"I'm just wondering why a therapist would want you to stay together, that's all," She replied, a warm tone in her voice that calmed Dean a little. It was strange for a suggestion like that from a professional, but when he looked to Castiel, the man didn't seem at all worried by the events as he simply tipped his head.

"She said that we ground each other," Castiel replied, his brows furrowing just a hint, a slight pull of muscle. Dean patted Castiel's arm gently in comfort before leaning against the table, his coffee forgotten.

It hadn't taken long, maybe a day or two after Castiel had woken up, for the nightmares to begin. Dean had ended up under the staff's tough grips many of times as he thrashed to get away from the blood and death that seemed to stain his very skin. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Castiel had the same issue, waking up with phantom pain through his spine and bruises where he tossed and turned himself out of the bed.

When Castiel ended up in bed with Dean, he didn't know. Maybe it was two nights ago, or three, but whatever the case, it helped. Although the nightmares continued, more vivid now that Castiel was in his arms, and the fear of losing him multiplying, the outbursts from the two had ceased. They weren't the only ones who noticed, and the therapist within the hospital had recommended that they go back to America together for their own mental states.

"It's not surprising at all," Mills answered, glancing between the two of them before reaching over, taking Dean's coffee and stealing a sip, "Are you going back to Sioux Falls then? That's where Sam is after all," She pointed out, giving him a firm look that made it clear that he should be going there. Dean averted his eyes, his hand reflexively tightening on Castiel's hand.

"Yes, I have family there anyways," Castiel answered for him, and if Castiel could feel his warning stare, he ignored it, "I honestly think it would be best to stay in a hotel for a few days though, and work out some...issues that need to be addressed."

Dean clenched his jaw when he felt Castiel's hand grip him a bit tighter.

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

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Dean muttered, a growl in his voice despite the way his entire body relished in the cooler air of America as he stepped into the hotel. It was better than some of the ones he had stayed in, but still, it was simple and most importantly, inexpensive.

Castiel stood by the door, his arms folded and his jaw slightly tense as his head followed the sound of Dean's movement, a few inches shy of actually getting his gaze directly on Dean's face, "Nothing good will come of hiding from your brother forever," Castiel stated, his voice slow and almost hesitant, "Even if he did not forgive you, would you really be as cruel as to let him think you were dead?"

Dean set down the duffel bag that carried the items they had managed to get in the two weeks after Mills had been deployed back to the force. He stared down at it, his fists clenched, and his eyes full of sadness, "No, I wouldn't," Dean mumbled, sitting down on the bed and carding his fingers through his hair, looking at the man with a bit of desperation in his eyes, "But what do you expect me to do?"

Castiel pushed off from the wall, letting his fingers reach out and brush along the wall, guiding him to the closest bed where he moved around and sat down, letting his arms rest on his knees, "Do what a brother should do," Castiel offered with a soft smile, turning his hand so it was palm up. Dean felt his own sad smile creep along his face, reaching out and taking Castiel's hand gently and squeezing it.

"Cas...thank you," Dean whispered, leaning forwards and pressing a soft kiss to Castiel's forehead before pulling away. Castiel's smile just widened and he fell back onto the bed, letting out a sigh.

"Are you ready for bed yet?" Castiel asked, changing the subject to something more light. Dean nodded, despite Castiel not seeing him and peeled off all his clothes except his t-shirt and boxers. 

"Do you need help?" Dean asked, though he really didn't need to as Castiel shrugged off his jacket and jeans, shaking his head as he shifted over the bed to find the sheets. Dean pulled them back for him, and a laugh left his lips as he felt Castiel's warm arms encircle his neck and shoulders, pulling him down to the bed gently.

"Good night Dean," Castiel said warmly, loosening his grip, but not letting go as Dean smiled against his cheek, his arms finding Castiel's waist and pulling him closer on the bed. Why they ever thought to get two beds, he didn't know.

"Good night, Cas," Dean responded, shifting so Castiel's head was against his chest before closing his eyes, letting the smell of frost and cinnamon lull him into a sense of security.

"Dean?" Castiel said, drawing him from the warm aura that surrounded them and making him look down at the locks of black hair below him. Castiel's head moved, and blue eyes sparkled against the darkness, focused on nothing.

"Yeah Cas?" Dean responded,   letting one hand lift ever so gently and brush his fingers through Castiel's hair, moving a few strands away from the man's face. He looked so beautiful in the natural moonlight, seeming years of harshness falling away against the soft blue and white light compared to the old orange of the dusty lamps from the camp or the florescent from the hospital.

"Welcome home," Castiel whispered and Dean's heart stopped. He couldn't help but freeze, a series of cranks in his head trying the process the words, and when they did, he couldn't help but begin to smile wide, and he pressed his nose into Castiel's hair, his grip growing a bit tighter as he squeezed Castiel gently, a happiness flooding his heart like no other.

"Welcome home too," Dean replied, refusing to let go now that he got a hold. It wasn't an hour had passed that he managed to calm his jump started heart enough to fall asleep, but it was fine with him, knowing that he was finally able to relax now that they were safe at home.

And for the first time since he had been captured, his nightmares were gone.