Chapter 1 and 2 are K-rated setup for Destiel. Warnings: Sexual scenes, homosexual angel/human pairings and incest to come in the future.

I'll be updating this story as often as possible. I'm focused more on maintaining the character accuracy and ensuring a proper buildup, rather than on smut. I hope you all enjoy it.


The threesome paused for a moment, all breathing heavily. Dean Winchester turned around to see an exhausted Castiel, panting, "Faster, Cas". His angel simply nodded. As they all began moving once more, Sam suddenly found himself the one struggling to keep up. "I'm not going to make it" He shouted over the chaos. Dean shook his head, "Keep going Sammy, we're almost there".

Sam choked on his coffee. He was sitting in an old, practically empty diner reading the most recent online publication of Supernatural to Dean. They were waiting for Cas to get back with information on a new case. "At any point, does Chuck mention that we were being chased by a group of vampires and not in the middle of a friggin' orgy?" Dean asked, sporting a horrified expression for only the moment it took to cram a slice of bacon into his mouth.

Castiel appeared then, in the seat beside Sam and directly across from Dean. Sam, who had gotten extremely used to Cas popping in and out, smiled warmly. The surprise caused Dean's bad nerves, on the other hand, to make him noticeably flinch. "Damn it, Cas"

They ignored him. "What did you find?" Sam asked, taking another sip of coffee and gently shutting his laptop with his free hand. Castiel shared his observations and research with the brothers. They remained in the diner for a short while, conducting a plan for the hunt and retrieval of the cursed object. "A cursed blanket, really?" Dean shook his head as they each slid out of their chairs, "I mean, come on. First the tea kettle, ballerina shoes and now a blanket? Who the hell picks these things out?" He placed the money for the bill on the table and they headed out.

After a day of wrestling with a flower-printed throw that had strangled some poor old woman, who - unfortunately for her - picked the thing out at a yard sale, the boys returned to their motel room. Sam looked across the room at Dean, who was hold up on the couch, snacking on a bag of greasy fries and channel surfing. Sitting beside Dean was Castiel, wearing one of his puzzled expressions as Dean flipped through channel after channel. "I don't understand why you don't just choose one." Dean rolled his eyes before responding, "Because they're all cheesy soap-opera's and infomercials." Sam noticed Cas had been sticking around more and more lately, but he didn't usually sit around on the couch watching TV with them after a hunt. "So what's up Cas?" He asked from his seat by the window. Castiel looked up innocently, "What do you mean?".

"Not that we don't love your company and all, but you don't usually hang around after the job is over. I mean, you usually wait until we pray to you for a visit"

Cas nodded, understanding. "Ah, yes. I expected someone to notice sooner or later, I suppose. Heaven is at peace again and truthfully, I'm not needed there." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And it would seem that some of my brother's and sister's are still having some difficulty forgiving my crimes. I don't want my undesired presence to disturb the peace we fought so hard to obtain."

Sam just gave him a look of sympathy. Poor guy. Dean however, gave the only indication that he'd been listening at all when he said, "Tell 'em to shove it up their asses, Cas. If I can forgive you, so can they." Castiel just watch Dean gratefully as he proceeded to enthusiastically take an entire handful of fries into his mouth at once. "Thank you, Dean"

A week later, Cas was still traveling with them. He didn't sleep at night, so Sam taught him how to use the laptop for research whenever he got bored. Cas often preferred to sit down in a chair or on the couch and watch the brothers asleep in their beds, though. He had begun memorizing their breathing patterns, finding the entire situation very peaceful. Sometimes hours would pass by without his notice. But after particularly difficult hunts, he began to observe, the brothers would have nightmares. Sometimes one and not the other, or sometimes both in one night. Their breathing would accelerate, restless moans would escape their parted lips and even thrashing around under the sheets would occur in the worst cases. On these nights, Castiel felt very helpless. He would watch them awaken with no recollection of their frantic struggling.

Days later, Dean's nightmares began to happen more frequently. Every night he was restless, practically yelling in his sleep. Sam slept soundly beside him in his own bed. Castiel actually found himself in pain as he watched Dean panic every night, and awake with dark circles every morning. On the sixth night in a row, he couldn't take it anymore. Cas gently padded to the side of Dean's bed, where his throat was constricted and he was flailing his arms about. Cas sat down on the edge, quietly whispered, "Dean," and waited for him to wake up. He sighed when it didn't work, and prodded Dean hard in the shoulder. Dean's eyes snapped open with a light gasp, and he reached for the gun he kept under his pillow. "Dean" Cas repeated, impatient.

Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness, "Cas? What the hell?"

"It would seem you were experiencing a nightmare"

This time though, Dean remembered. The entire mess was still freshly vivid in his mind. The images of hell, of torture, of the lives lost on their recent hunts, of even the lives lost of his friends over the years. Everything horrible seemed to be piling up at once, determined to haunt him. Dean sighed. He was exhausted, but the fear was still pulsing through his body. He didn't want to go back to sleep. He didn't want to relive all that horror.

"Thank you" He said finally, and Cas simply nodded. "You've been experiencing it for days, progressively getting worse."

"Yeah I could tell, I guess. I've been waking up more tired than I am when I go to sleep"

"Should we wake up Sam?" Castiel asked, certain Sam would come up with a theory.

Dean shook his head, "Let him sleep. It's no big deal, I'll manage it". Cas felt uncertain, but he let it go. "Manage what?" another groggy voice asked from across the room. Sam sat up in his bed and reached for the lamp on the bedside table. The room lit up and Dean was suddenly very aware of the fact that he and Cas were sitting together, on his bed, Dean without a shirt, and his face grew hot. "Nothing Sammy, it's fine. Go back to sleep."

"Dean, it's 3am. What the hell is going on?" Sam asked, rubbing a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back and out of his face. Dean snapped, "I said nothing, dammit, go to sleep". He slid out from under the covers, threw on a random white t-shirt from his bag, grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge and headed for the door, slamming it behind him. Sam watched him go, shaking his head with a defeated sigh. "What happened, Cas?" He pleaded, completely unsure what was wrong, or how to help his brother. Castiel cleared his throat. "Dean thinks you should rest. I'll keep watch over him, don't worry." And then he was gone, and Sam was alone.

Sam only brought up the 3am incident once after that, the following morning. Dean insisted that he was fine and Castiel would simply change the subject whenever asked. But the nightmares continued, and now Dean would even wake up on his own, gasping for breath. Castiel would go and sit beside him, every night. They wouldn't speak, or even look at each other at times. They just sat. Dean would never admit it, but he drew enormous comfort from the angel's presence. He'd grown to fear just going lying down now, certain that hell was waiting to consume him if he allowed himself to fall asleep.

Eventually they started talking at night. It started out with Cas offering a nonjudging ear, in the event that Dean ever wished to share his frightful dreams. Dean gently declined, though he appreciated the gesture. Then they began talking about Sam, and whether they should tell him what was going on or not. Dean, once again, shot down the idea. Now they talked about hunt's. They would discuss the demon from the previous day, or what they planned to do about the werewolf they were looking for, or how many spirit's might be in the haunted house they were preparing to investigate. Dean would grow so comfortable beside Cas that he would even doze off here and there, sleeping for a few hours at a time before the nightmares set about pursuing him once more.