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The hallway was really dark. No one could blame Dean for not seeing the damn rune on the ground. It's not like it was made with fluorescent paint_! It was just a mark carved into the stone floor; anyone would have stepped on it.
***
Strange deaths had been reported in southern Illinois over the last two weeks, always in pairs, with diverse causes of death from people drowning with their lungs full of water in the middle of an apartment room, to a charred couple with traces of what seemed to be volcanic ash. By the time Sam picked up on the case there were already five dead couples. Dean and Cas investigated the latest crime scene and morgue while Sam searched the city archives for old cold cases that had similarities. Among the belongings of one of the deceased they found a small stone with an engraved symbol.
"It was cuneiform writing, Dean," Castiel explained as they walked back to the car. “The rock said ‘sun’.”
"And they both died from exposure to high temperatures. They were covered in sunburn.” Dean scowled as he took his phone to call Sam. “Witches, man. I hate witches.”
After Sam picked up the phone Dean filled him in, informing him that he'd found records of similar cases spanning twenty years. The police had found a suspect but couldn’t charge him due to lack of evidence. The guy was still living in the city.
Dean, Cas, and Sam followed the sorcerer's trail to a kind of catacomb. The place was in total darkness and they had to feel their way through the narrow passageways. Dean and Cas walked a few feet ahead, while Sam fell behind looking for a flashlight.
When Dean stepped on a rune, the brick it was carved into to shone with a violet glow. The light streamed through the cracks in the floor outlining a square around the hunter and the angel. The lines of light went up the walls and continued across the ceiling to form a cube. When they joined, there was a final glow and everything went dark again, save for the original symbol on the floor that continued to emit a dim light, allowing them to see each other but not much else.
"Shit!" Dean exclaimed.
Sam ran down the hall at the sight of purple lightning, flashlight in hand. Dean and Cas watched him approach and sighed in relief. They watched him walk past calling out their names, looking in all directions. The beam of Sam’s flashlight passed right over them, but Sam kept running and calling until he was out of sight.
"Shit, SHIT!" Dean yelled again, this time kicking into the air, right where the lights had passed. His boot struck something invisible as if he'd just kicked into a wall that wasn't there but was. “What the hell?!” he said, bringing his hands forward. A polished surface stretched out imperceptible to the eye, it was like touching glass, only by moving his fingers small sparkles of light appeared here and there and some static electricity could be felt.
"It's a cell," Castiel said, looking around. “We are locked in. The magic formed a cube, there is no way out.” He looked down at the ground to inspect the rune. “The symbol for ‘Winter’.”
“SAM!” Dean continued yelling despite being sure Sam couldn’t hear it “SAMMY!” he yelled again, this time hitting the invisible wall harder.
"Dean, I don't think that's wise," Cas warned, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Why not?” he asked, bewildered. As he did so, a cold cloud floated from his mouth.
"As I suspected," Cas said, looking at the mark on the floor. “The temperature has been dropping gradually since you stepped on the rune. Each time you hit it, it’s dropped two or three degrees depending on the intensity.”
Dean looked at him puzzled. His ears and nose had started to feel cold. This was not good, not good at all.
***
Sam was sure they couldn't have gotten that far. He should have found them by now. He aimed the flashlight further down the hall, but this meant he couldn't see where he was stepping. After a few minutes of running, Sam stepped on something that felt different. He looked back and saw a glowing tile. The light spread across the floor in his direction and continued forward, through the entire corridor. As soon as the light from the spell touched him Sam knew something was wrong. He couldn't move normally. It felt like he hadn’t stopped running, but he wasn't moving forward. In fact, he was barely moving at all! His foot was still in the air, trying to reach the ground, but the movement was so slow it was imperceptible. It was like trying to move inside a cube of jelly. Sam frowned; at this rate it would probably take him ten minutes to complete that gesture. Damn.
***
“Okay, all right. We need to destroy the rune,” Dean said. “Do you think you can break the rock?”
“Of course. Although it might not be a good idea, Dean,” Cas answered, looking at the glow of the mark.
"Try it, will you? What's the worst that could happen?” he shrugged.
Cas narrowed his eyes at him. Literally anything could happen. They both knew it. Dean nodded at him to hurry up and get it over with. Castiel obediently crouched down next to the symbol, and closing his fist gave it a single blow with all his might. The ground beneath his feet shook slightly, but the rock was still intact. When Cas got back to his feet he noticed that Dean had started to tremble.
The hunter reached into his pocket for something and gestured for Cas to step aside. “I'll try to burn it.” He took out a small hip flask and poured out some whiskey, then took a small piece of paper, lit it, and tossed it over the alcohol. The flames burned for a few moments, but when they were consumed, the word ‘Winter’ in cuneiform was still there, as clear as it’d been the entire time. Dean grunted under his breath as he sat back up. He took a drink from the flask and put it back.
"Maybe Sam will find a way to free us," Cas said, looking out into the darkness of the hallway ahead of them.
"He doesn't even know where we are. Maybe we'll get lucky and he’ll find the sorcerer soon.” The cold was seeping into his bones and he began to feel an unbearable tingling in his legs. He crossed his arms and began bouncing on the spot to try and warm up.
“Dean! No!” Cas yelled, quickly grabbing his shoulders to keep him from jumping any further.
“What? I'm cold!” He protested.
“The ground is part of the spell too, Dean. Each jump lowers the temperature further.” Cas was silent for a moment as he seemed to search the air. “The rate at which the heat decreases has increased,” he added in dismay.
"Oh," said Dean, who had finally settled down. “How many degrees is it?” He asked with a trembling voice.
“Five degrees centigrade. But it keeps going down. We should not have made those attempts. We only managed to make the situation worse,” the angel protested.
"Okay, Captain Hindsight, what do you propose?" Dean asked sarcastically as he went back for the bottle. He moved clumsily and the flask almost fell to the ground twice.
“Dean, I don't think that's recommended. You shouldn't drink alcohol, I think you're in the first stage of hypothermia," Cas said, looking at his friend's face, which was starting to look pale. Dean put the whiskey away, brought his hands to his mouth, warming them with his own breath. “Let me take your temperature,” Cas asked solemnly.
"No, that's not going to happen, Cas," he assured him, taking a step back.
But Castiel raised an eyebrow and held his gaze steadily as he called his name, as if Dean were a child throwing a tantrum.
The hunter swallowed hard. He wasn't quite sure how Cas intended to take his temperature, but he wasn't very happy about it. Castiel took a step towards him and held his head on both sides, tilted it slightly down and pressed his lips to his forehead. He stayed like that for a few seconds, as if kissing Dean's frown, while Dean remained motionless watching him without knowing what to do. Cas's hands and mouth felt hot against his icy skin. Dean closed his eyes, enjoying this unexpected source of warmth until a sudden shiver brought his guard back up. When he finally stepped away, Cas looked worried.
"Thirty-four degrees, Dean," Castiel said as he began to take off his trench coat.
“That's bad?” the hunter asked as he watched what the other was doing. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? You’re not cold?” He protested as he tried to put his friend's coat back on.
“It's bad, Dean. You are two degrees below your normal temperature. You need to get warm,” he said, taking off his navy blue suit jacket. Dean looked at him in horror. “I'm not cold, I'm an angel, remember? Take off your clothes,” he ordered.
“Wait, what ?” Dean asked in surprise and he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering as he spoke.
***
Meanwhile, Sam had just managed to take a full step when he saw a figure approaching. It was the suspect he’d read about in the police reports. But those photos were twenty years old, and the man hadn’t aged a single day. He had long dark hair pulled back in a braid and a thick manicured beard. He was dressed in an expensive-looking red suit. Sam thought the guy looked like a combination of Asmodeus and Rowena. It took him a second to form the idea and he wasn't quite sure how long it would take to erase that mental image.
"Ahh," the sorcerer exclaimed with pleasure as he reached his side. “Just in time for the ultimate sacrifice. Venus is in position. Ishtar will be pleased.” He had a strange accent, and though he wasn't affected by the spell, he slurred his words.
Sam tried to look at him questioningly, still frowning and starting to take the next step, still "running". He not only moved slowly, he thought slowly, even his heart pumped at an alarming slow rate.
The man stared down the hall, where Sam had walked moments before stepping on the rune.
"Those two are quite a find," he smacked his lips. “So many things left unsaid. So many unexpressed feelings.” He couldn't contain the smile that had begun to form on his lips. “And one of them is immortal! I can't believe my luck!”
The wizard turned to look at Sam and saw the bewilderment on his face. He never got a chance to explain his plan to the victims. He always caught them and in a few minutes, they were both dead. It wasn't very pleasant, but it got the job done. But this time, he had an extra subject, who didn't serve him at all, unable to attack or respond, and the opportunity to give a villainous speech seemed tempting.
“I'm in a very good mood today, so I'll explain what's going on here. Would you like that?” he said, brushing Sam's hair behind her ears. “You see, Ishtar is a powerful Goddess, goddess of love and war. In the past it was common to make sacrifices to our deities in exchange for favors. It was a symbiotic relationship. Nowadays, hunters like you don't see it with good eyes,” he explained, patting Sam on the cheek.
“Ishtar didn't have an easy life, you know? She lost her lover too soon and over the years she’s become jealous of the love that humans experience. That's why she prefers this particular type of sacrifice. Secret lovers. People who feel intensely for the other but do not express it. That feeds her.”
Sam started a small movement that, with luck, ten minutes later would amount to 'raised eyebrows in surprise'.
“What do I gain? Thanks for asking! Years of life, of course. With each sacrifice, the years the lovers would have lived are transferred to me. Isn't that wonderful? How powerful and generous is my dearest Ishtar!”
Sam could barely follow what he was telling him, he had never felt so slow in his entire life. Was this guy saying that Dean and Cas were secret lovers? Or had he misunderstood? He tried to understand what he had just heard, but the sorcerer kept talking and talking and it was getting harder and harder to keep up. Was he getting even slower?
“You can then understand my happiness when I discovered that this last couple, the one that would be the last sacrifice of the year, could very well be the last sacrifice of my life! An angel? In love? That’s never been seen in real life.” The man smirked, kissed the side of Sam's face, then glanced down the hall at Dean and Castiel. He turned and walked off in the opposite direction, humming an ancient tune under his breath as he disappeared into the darkness.
Sam was still running at the incredible speed of a meter every twenty-four hours.
***
After several tries, Castiel had managed to remove his friend's jacket.
"What the hell Cas?!" Dean protested.
Castiel continued trying to take off Dean’s shirt that was cold and wet.
“Dean! You don't trust me?” Dean was shivering with his arms crossed tightly against his chest. He met Cas's eyes and gave an uncoordinated nod.
“Then stop fighting once and for all. I'm trying to help you.” Cas explained “You need to recover some heat.” Dean tried to take off his shirt himself but couldn't move his arms the right way, something wasn't working right. He looked back at his friend for help and Cas removed the garment in one movement. Quickly, but careful not to force Dean, Cas put his blue jacket and trench coat on him.
The garments still held Castiel's warmth and Dean felt like he’d just been wrapped in a blanket. He sighed in relief. He was still cold, but this was a considerable improvement.
"Come here," Cas ordered, taking him by the shoulders to guide him to the wall.
Dean, who had learned his lesson, let Castiel guide him. The angel gestured for him to sit. The ground was frozen. Really ice cold. Cas sat down next to him and put one arm around Dean's shoulders then carefully slipped the other arm under his knees. Dean couldn't stop shaking. Unable to speak for the moment, he looked at him questioningly.
"I need to get you off the ground," he said simply as he settled Dean's body, as large as his own, on his lap. “Bend your legs, try not to touch the floor. You can do it?” He asked softly. He was trying to sound calm. Dean knew it. Cas was trying to make sure that everything would be okay.
Dean concentrated on doing his best to control his legs. He managed to bend his knees but couldn't get them up all the way.
"Help me," he said in a small voice. Castiel took Dean's legs and placed them over his, so that they were secured between his knees. “C-can you heal me?” Dean stammered.
"I can't, I already tried when I took your temperature. It's a spell, I can't heal you with grace. I'm sorry. Really, Dean,” Cas said, squeezing him a little tighter against his chest. Dean nodded silently and tried again to warm his hands with his breath. Cas followed the movement and took Dean's trembling hands, brought them to his lips and blew on them. Dean groaned in pain.
Castiel thought for a moment “Hmm, it's not wise to raise the temperature of your extremities.” Dean shivered, shaking his entire body. His lips were beginning to turn purple. “We need to warm up your core, Dean. Keep the organs working.”
Dean looked at him sleepily, only half understanding what the angel was telling him.
Cas placed his lips on Dean's forehead and Dean made a small sound of pleasure. “Shit, Dean, thirty-two degrees.”
Dean blinked slowly and attempted to smile. His five-o-clock shadow was frosted, as was his hair. Castiel looked the same as always,hell, he even looked more summery with just his white shirt and messy tie. Dean wanted to comment on that, but he didn't know how to without Cas thinking he was delusional.
Castiel leaned in, bringing his face closer to the angle of his friend's neck, and very slowly released his breath on Dean's pale skin. The temperature should rise gradually. The situation was dire, if he didn't get Dean out of that place soon, he was in danger of heart failure. Cas leaned down a bit more, still holding Dean, and blew warm air into his solar plexus, again very slowly, allowing the area to gradually warm. Dean jerked and clutched at Castiel's shirt. Cas was embracing him with both hands, resting his head on his shoulder to breathe between them. Suddenly, against all odds, Dean laughed.
“What?” Cas asked, confused.
"I remembered something," Dean said, his voice cracking.
"What thing?" Cas asked.
“A-an old epppisode from X-filessss.”
Cas was silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Mulder and Sssculy had gotten lost in the woods. And he was cold.” He paused to laugh and instead he ended up coughing. “He told her that the best way to re-re-regain heat is by being naked in a sleeping bag,” he managed to conclude. He laughed again and then thought about it, wondering why he had remembered that.
"If it starts raining sleeping bags, you might get lucky," Cas said seriously.
Dean met Castiel's gaze, surprised by the answer and could only reply “Huh?”
“That's what she said, wasn’t it? It was Scully's response,” Cas said, a little embarrassed, suddenly aware of how much he was like Scully, and how he probably would’ve said exactly the same thing.
“Oh sure. Yep, that was the-the rep...” Dean was beginning to tense up as he spoke. It was consuming more energy than he had. And his eyelids were getting heavier.
Suddenly Cas's eyes lit up. He shifted the weight of Dean's body to his left hand and with the other began to unbutton his shirt. He loosened his tie and tossed it aside.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Mulder was right," Castiel said. He waved his hand and materialized his angel blade.
Dean’s eyes widened, he couldn't believe what Cas was saying. He watched as his friend brought the edge of the dagger under Dean’s shirt and with two flicks of his wrist, tore the fabric in half. A wave of cold air rushed in and Dean began to shiver violently, but Cas, who had already put the blade away, was holding him. He pulled Dean against him and pressed him against his bare chest. Skin to skin. Dean slowly regained control of his body, as the jolts turned into more bearable tremors. “I can't change your temperature with grace, but I can change mine," Cas said, squeezing his friend against his body, at the same time adjusting the trench coat so that cold air wouldn't get in anywhere.
"What?" he asked. Perhaps it was due to the warmth that radiated off Cas, or the fact that he was leaning against him without the slightest layer of clothing separating them from the waist up, but Dean was already starting to feel more alert. He moved his hands, which had been clenched between their bodies and slid them down Cas's sides to encircle his waist.
"I'm going to gradually raise the temperature of my vessel, so that it can serve as a heat source," Castiel said decisively.
"I-Isn't that dangerous? F-for you?” Dean asked without lifting his cheek from Cas's collarbone.
The angel kissed the top of his head and murmured "no."
Dean wasn't very convinced, but he didn't have the strength to protest. They stayed like that for several minutes, slowly warming up. Dean was hugging Castiel like never before, he hadn’t even fantasized they’d ever be this close.
***
Sam was exhausted. He’d been trying to unholster his gun for over an hour and was barely halfway to removing it. The sorcerer had returned. He looked impatiently down the hall, towards where Sam guessed Dean and Cas were. He didn't look in such a good mood anymore.
"This is taking too long," he protested.
“Tell me about it” Sam thought.
The man looked at Sam with his arms crossed. “Couples usually die within the first few minutes. You know? They never get that far. They usually get scared, and start pummeling the invisible walls, hastening their end. They never, ever survive this long.” He cast a dissatisfied glance down the dark hallway. “People don't get a chance to talk. I worry that the human is still alive. And it worries me a lot that they are so cuddly. They must be desperate, trying to get out. No... curled up. This is not good. Nothing good. I can be left without my sacrifice. I don't like the way things are going.”
Sam -who had finally finished thinking ‘tell me about it’- remembered two words that the sorcerer had mentioned, which seemed key to the success of the sacrifice: Secret Lovers.
The sorcerer stamped his foot and violet lightning zigzagged across the tiles until it reached the invisible cube and it glowed for a moment.
***
Inside the cube, the temperature dropped sharply again. Dean shook again.
"Casss," Dean shivered. “What if I die here?” Castiel wanted to protest but Dean kept talking. “What if we can't get out of here? I die, and you’re stuck here forever with my dead body.” The very thought made Cas's stomach flip. It was true that if the situation dragged on for a few more hours, he would have no way of saving Dean.
“That will not happen. You won't die,” he assured him.
“That's a lie. You know. I'm dying,” he rasped, his throat aching from the cold.
"If you die, which you won't, but if you die, I won't be here long." Dean gave him a questioning look. “I have my angel blade,” he said simply.
They were both silent for several minutes. Dean was beginning to feel sleepy.
“Dean, don't sleep. You need to stay awake. Can you hear me?” Dean responded with a ‘mmhmm.’ “Tell me something. Keep your mind active. You can do it?” Cas asked, caressing his cheek.
"D-did I tell you about the time I killed Hitler?" he asked with a small smile in his voice.
"Yes, Dean. More than twenty times," Castiel answered patiently.
“Oh. Okay. Mmm.” Dean thought for a few seconds. He was dying. If ever there was a time to tell his secrets, now was the time. “Okay. I-I'll tell you a sssecret. Nobody knows. Not even Sssammy.” He searched for Castiel's eyes and Castiel looked at him attentively. He wanted to lick his lips but the movement stopped halfway, he didn't feel much of his face. “I…ummm…I-I like guys,” he said almost inaudibly.
“What did you say?” Castiel asked incredulously, “I think you're starting to get delirious, Dean,” he said worriedly.
“No. I'm not delusional, Casss," he assured, closing his eyes tiredly. Castiel touched his cheek again to keep him awake. “I-I... look, ummm I like girls. B-but sometimes, I-just sometimesssss I-I'm attracted to some g-guy.” Dean was too cold, and he was too exhausted to be embarrassed. He felt a certain relief to bring this to light after so many years. He looked up at Cas again, and Cas was frowning hard, trying to figure out whether or not Dean was talking nonsense. “Hey... what about you?” he whispered.
"What do you mean? Do you want to know a secret of mine?" Cas asked, tilting his head.
"No... or yes... I-I mean, do you like men?" Dean asked as he tightened the hug a little more, suddenly he had started shivering again, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was entirely due to the cold.
"Dean, you know I'm completely indifferent to sexual orientation," Castiel answered softly, dodging the question.
"T-that's not what I asssked," insisted the hunter, “Di-did you ever feel attracted to a-a man?” Dean was putting all his energy into the conversation, but it was important that he stay awake. Cas knew that very well. And if this was the only way to get his attention, he would see it through to the end.
"I…" he hesitated. He still wasn't sure Dean was aware of what he was saying. He looked into his eyes, which were glazed and reddened. His face was starting to look a little blue. He wiped away the frost that had formed on his friend's beard and he thanked him with a small smile. “Yes Dean. Towards a man. Just one,” he said, smiling sadly.
“Do I know him?” He asked genuinely interested. Castiel nodded once. “Um, Ssammy?” Cas snorted a giggle and shook his head silently. Dean thought hard again. “Crowley?” He tried again.
"No, Dean."
“Ssure?”
Cas shook his head. Why was he asking if he was sure he didn't like Crowley?
“Max?”
"I have no idea who Max is, Dean," Cas said as he stroked his hair.
“Oh sure. Ermm...” He thought about it for a moment, he wasn't sure if he dared to ask, he didn't know if he could handle a ‘no’ to that question at that moment. “...M-me?” He had almost no voice, but Cas heard the question clearly. Dean looked up as best he could. Castiel was smiling.
"Of course you, idiot." Cas hugged Dean tighter. Dean no longer felt his hands and his arms hung stiffly over his legs. Castiel leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. Dean closed his eyes and a tear fell painfully from one of them.
"I-I wish I c-could feel that," Dean stammered.
"You don't have to reciprocate, that's fine, Dean," Cas said softly.
"No…I-I mean the ki-kiss." They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Dean was having a hard time breathing and his eyelids threatened to close every moment. The tear had crystallized on his cheek and Castiel hastened to wipe it away. “I love you, Cas,” he said with what little strength he had left.
"I love you, Dean," Castiel replied without hesitation. Dean had closed his eyes, but a small smile played on his cracked lips. Castiel adjusted the man's head on his shoulder and cradled him, waiting for his end to come, with nothing else to do. He knew it could take hours for his brain to stop working. A tear rolled down his cheek and landed on the hunter's shoulder. It froze instantly. Cas stared at it. Only a second passed before it liquefied again and became a small stain on the raincoat.
Castiel looked up at the rune on the ground, the light had begun to flicker. It failed once, twice, three times and was permanently turned off. The invisible walls around them vanished and the temperature stabilized again.
***
A flash of violet light and suddenly Sam had regained his mobility, still running, almost fell to the ground. All the thoughts that had been left halfway piled up in his mind. He finished unholstering his gun with witch-killing bullets and headed down the hall, where the sorcerer had disappeared. Turning the corner he found a lit room with an altar. In the center stood the sculpture of an ancient and forgotten goddess. The sorcerer yelled indignantly, smashing everything in his path.
“No! No! NO! I was so close!!” When he turned around, he found himself face to face with the barrel of Sam's gun.
Sam wasn't going to wait any longer. It had been long enough. He pulled the trigger without hesitation.
***
“Dean!” Castiel yelled when he realized they were free. Dean didn't reply. He kissed his forehead again, this time allowing his grace to flow to Dean. It had to work. There was no chance it wouldn't work. He wasn't dead, not yet. He could save him.
Slowly, Dean was recovering his usual color. His muscles, which had been tense and stiff from the cold, relaxed again. Finally, he opened his eyelids and looked Cas squarely in the eyes. He smiled.
"Hello, Dean," Cas said, stroking his chin.
"Hey Cas," he replied. He raised a hand to Castiel’s neck and left it there, feeling his warm pulse under his touch. “Thanks for keeping me alive.” Cas tilted his head to touch Dean’s forehead.
“Of course, Dean.” Cas smiled with relief and Dean thought he had never seen him look so beautiful. He gently pulled him close and kissed him softly. Cas kissed him back, grateful that this nightmare was over, happy that Dean was safe, and still totally amazed that everything he had confessed wasn't a hypothermic delusion after all.
"Secret lovers," Sam said, breaking in as the kiss began to heat up.
They both looked at him puzzled. Dean blushed noticeably, catching Cas' attention, who stared at him in amazement. He looked so rosy and healthy that he couldn't help but kiss his cheek to feel the warmth emanating from it. He laughed against the deep red skin of his friend.
Sam wasn't sure what torture they'd gotten, but the fact that they were huddled in a corner and Dean was covered in Cas's clothes gave him a vague idea.
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard before he could speak. Sam couldn't help but laugh at his brother.
“What do you mean by that?” Dean said, taking a somewhat defiant attitude.
"The sorcerer said so. The sacrifice was of secret lovers . The ‘ secret’ element was the key.”
"Sure," Castiel reasoned. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, Cas was going to say what they had confessed to each other, he was going to say it, he was sure. The idiot. “By confessing our love, we broke the spell. That's why the rune was deactivated.”
He said it. Dammit. Shit.
Sam laughed and held out a hand to help his brother to his feet.
"It seems so, Cas. Apparently the fun of secrets is that they're secrets,” Sam pointed out. Castiel frowned at him.
“That's a no-brainer, Sam.”
"Stop it, Cas. He's making fun of us,” Dean said as he picked up his clothes from the floor.
“I'm serious, Dean. That's what the sorcerer said, the sacrifice for the goddess was of Secret Lovers,” he repeated with emphasis only to annoy his brother.
"Stop saying that, it sounds horrible," Dean protested. “It's sappy and sounds like we're fooling someone. We're not secret lovers,” Dean concluded. He looked to Cas with a frown and Cas was looking at him with a smile on his face.
"No, not anymore," Castiel assured, taking Dean by the hand, intertwining their fingers. Dean blushed furiously again, but didn't let go of the angel.
"Let's get out of here, this place is a furnace," Sam urged them and began to walk towards the exit.