You wake up to the feeling of a million sledgehammers slamming against your brain. Owww… what the fuck did I do.

You take it one sense at a time. You feel the sheets twisted around your body… your naked body. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Deep breaths, Winchester.

You hear the birds chirping outside and wonder what time it is, but your brain is still too much in pain to let yourself open your eyes and be a victim to the bright sunlight that you are sure is streaming through the windows.

Why the fuck do I think I can drink like I'm a 20 year old still?

You hate the foul taste in your mouth and would get up and brush your teeth if the world weren't spinning.

You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Standard motel room. Cheap, ugly decorations, a small tv, a bible on the nightstand. You had gotten two double beds instead of one in case Sam finally got over himself and stopped acting like such a bitch.

It's when you spot your clothes strewn haphazardly on the floor that you are suddenly hit with an onslaught of memories from last night.

Sliding Cas' shirt off his shoulders, kissing along his chest and then down his stomach. Not being able to stop yourself from glancing up at Cas' face every couple seconds, wanting, needing, to see his reactions. To see if he is enjoying this… which, from the looks of it, he definitely is.

You remember glimpses of last night, but there are very definite gaps in memory. And even what you do remember is fuzzy. You know there was a girl – the smell of strawberries and soft lips – but you don't quite know what happened to her.

You remember an argument and grimace as you look down and spot bruises on your body from falling onto the asphalt.

Strong arms holding you up, hiding your face in Cas' trenchcoat as you hold back sobs.

Oh, God. What have I done?, you think as you let out a long groan into your pillow. You've fucked up before, but this is a new level of ridiculous.

Out of everyone in the world, drunk-you decided that you had to fuck Cas? And, oh god, how far did you even go? You squirm a little bit in your bed and breathe a sigh of relief when you don't feel sore… down there. At least things didn't go that far. Well, unless Cas was bottom. Ugh… don't go there, don't go there…

You try to suppress the rest of the memories from coming back, and take a swig out of the bottle of whiskey leftover next to your bed, but unfortunately there's only one swig left, and all that managed to do was make you immediately have to run to the bathroom and vomit.

After brushing your teeth and rinsing your mouth out with Listerine a million times, you take a shower. You lean your forehead against the cool tile and let the hot water run, scalding, down your back and across your sore muscles. With a deep breath, you let the memories come back in waves.

Cas flipping you so that you are lying underneath him, naked and vulnerable. He still has his pants on but quickly discards them onto the floor.

He lays his hand on your shoulder, covering the imprint of his hand that has yet to fade, and just stares at you. He's staring into your goddamn soul, you think, and you want desperately to hide. You've never had someone look at you like this. Like he is seeing inside you into every bad part of you and – forgives you, loves you – and as you stare back at him you feel like your skin can't contain you, that you're going to burst.

Somehow, you've come undone, by this angel…. Who is a virgin… who should by no right be so good at kissing you and touching you in all the right places… oh…

You quickly turn the shower to ice cold, because goddamn you're getting hard and that's making this whole thing so much worse. You are not allowed to feel this way about Cas… who is your best friend… and an angel… and a dude. You would probably be having more of a crisis over your sexuality, but the fact that it's Cas supersedes the fact that he's a guy. Maybe that crisis will come later.

You step out of the shower and towel off quickly. You can't dwell on this anymore – there's too much important work to be done. You'll just have to forget –

Cas kisses down your abdomen, pausing to catch your eyes briefly, asking permission, before kissing further down… down… and oh, goddamn, fuck somehow he knows how to give really good head. How does he know how to do this? You grab onto Cas' hair as he slowly kisses and licks and… sucks… oh god… you're on the edge… you look down and are lost in a sea of blue eyes….

Fuck. This may be difficult.

You decide you have to be the bigger man and give Sam a call. He's being a bitch, but you desperately need a distraction from your own memories. You hope if you keep busy maybe the memories will stop coming. You wish you had just completely blacked out… it would've made this all easier…

"Hey, Sammy. I found a case. Yeah, right outside Chicago. Looks like a ghost – a dude who is killing all his old roommates. Yeah, see you tonight… bitch."

You hang up the phone. Good. A nice, easy case to keep your mind off Cas… and the fucking apocalypse. The world may be ending, but that doesn't mean you can't gank some monsters in the meantime.

It's a 10 hour drive to Chicago, and you don't get there until 2 in the morning, both exhausted and antsy from downing multiple energy drinks in order to stay awake.

Sam's already gotten the room and you head up, ready to collapse into bed and not worry about the case until you get your 6 hours.

You pound on the door to the room Sam told you he was at, falling in when it suddenly opens and you feel a pair of arms catch you. You look up into a pair of concerned blue eyes. Cas.

Your stomach drops and you quickly shove Cas' arms off you, avoiding eye contact. "Oh uh… hey Cas. How goes it?"

Cas just tilts his head in response, continuing to do the staring thing he's so damn good at. You ignore him and look to your brother, who's at the desk with his laptop open. "Hey, Sammy. Why'd you call Cas – I thought this was an open-shut case."

Cas is the one who answers you though. "He didn't call me. I thought it was important for me to… keep an eye on you two."

Dean shrugs and throws his luggage onto the bed. "Yeah yeah… end of days… we're the chosen ones. I get it. The big guys upstairs need you to watch that we don't do anything stupid."

Although I've already done the stupidest thing I could probably do, you think to yourself.

Cas looks at you curiously and starts to respond before Sam interrupts, closing his laptop and getting up to hug Dean. "It's… good to see you, Dean. Thanks for calling me. I'm sorry about… everything."

You give Sam the 2-pat hug and then shrug him off, "Save the chick flick moments. It's fine. Water under the bridge. Let's just concentrate on the case."

To be honest, you aren't quite ready to forgive your brother. But there are bigger fish to fry, and in the end Sam is family and you love him. No matter what.

You collapse onto your bed and rub your eyes with your fist. You feel as if you could fall asleep right…

"Dean, I think the ghost – Drew Casey – is gonna strike tonight. We should probably go stake out the apartment. He managed to kill two of them, but one is still alive and living at the apartment. God knows why he decided to stay there." Sam says, as he waves pictures of four men in their young twenties in front of his face.

You groan and roll into the fetal position. "Ughhhhh… why do you think it's tonight?"

"Cas and I just figured it out. He's killing them at the same time each week, the anniversary of his death. We think it's going to be 4 am. So we only have 2 hours. Come on, let's get going. I know you're tired, but I've got a bunch of soda in the car." Sam tries to grab at you, but you swat him away tiredly.

You groan and stand up. "Okay fine… let's get going."