Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the clock was beginning to piss Castiel off.

With his naturally heightened senses and his diminishing grace, the normally fairly quiet sound of the clock's mechanism led to the angel experiencing his first headache.

There were two bullet holes in the wall of their motel room when Dean and Sam got back from their latest hunt.

A broken clock lay on the floor between the two beds, while the angel was curled up on the bed Dean had claimed, in a foetal position.

As the door slammed shut, Castiel groaned in pain.

"You okay there, Cas?" the blond whispered, crouching beside the bed, trying to look the angel in the eyes.

"The noises. Too loud."

Cas seemingly curled in on himself even further.

"It must be his angel senses." Sam's voice was so quiet, his older brother had to strain his ears to hear him.

Another groan.

Dean motioned the door with a tilt of his head, and so both Winchesters left the motel room, careful to close the door as quietly as possible.

"As an angel, Cas has better senses than us - like his smell and sight, and obviously his hearing. And, what with his grace leaving him, he's gotta save it for important stuff, instead of curing himself of every little thing. He's probably got a headache, because his body's not used to loud noises without the sort of numbing sensation that his angel mojo gave him. Hence his pain."

The blond looked contemplative.

"What can we do for him?"

"Probably just try to make as little noise as possible, and just treat it like a normal migraine. He needs pain killers, and maybe we should get him some noise-cancelling headphones."

"Do you mind going to get those things? I wanna keep an eye on him, make sure he's okay."

"Sure." Sam smiled slightly.

Dean crept silently back into the room, cursing in his head when the door closing was louder than he anticipated.

The hunter walked over to the occupied bed, and sat down near the headboard. Castiel turned himself towards the blond, pressing his forehead against Dean's thigh.

He sighed quietly in relief.

Not saying a word, Dean carded his hand through the angel's hair, careful not to tug at any strands. With his other hand, he rubbed small, soft, circles into the pained man's back, trying to take his mind off of the pain in his head.

The hunter noticed the angel fell asleep - which was a first. The pain must have been bad; the angel never slept.

Sam came back not too long after Cas had fallen asleep, letting himself into the room, and smiling at the sight of the two men on the bed - one of Dean's hand still somewhat tangled in the dark hair, the other resting on the middle of the angel's back.

When the angel woke up, the brothers dosed him up with the pain meds, and placed the new headphones on his head. Getting some ice from the small fridge in the room, wrapping it up, and placed it on the angel's forehead.

It was nearing midnight, by the time Cas was comfortable, and both the Winchesters had had a long day. They both really needed sleep.

Instead of kicking Cas out of his bed, or sleeping on the floor, Dean only climbed into the bed, lying next to the angel.

He easily fell asleep to the soft breathing of both Cas and his brother, lulling him into a peaceful slumber.

When he woke the next morning, Dean felt something warm beneath his cheek. His arms were wrapped tightly around something - someone - and it took him more than a few seconds to remember where he was.

When he remembered, he didn't freak out like he thought he would. Instead, he seemingly buried himself deeper into the angel's chest.

He felt arms wrap tight around him and he smiled.