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A Dean/Castiel fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Supernatural.

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A/N: Yes, another Dean/Cas fic from me ... this was number 10 on my list ... I'm over half-way done now ...

This one takes place after 5.14, "My Bloody Valentine". Nothing too cute-sy, but I think this one might be one of the more in-character Dean/Cas fics I've written ... we'll see.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!


Sam had been in Bobby's panic room for just over two days, and it had taken its toll on all of them. Bobby was passed out in his room, a trail of beer can around his bed. Dean had yet to let himself sleep, not wanting anything to happen while he was recharging his batteries ... all the times Sam had snuck out while he was sleeping had made him wary ... or was it paranoid?

Dean splashed water on his face at the kitchen sink, trying to blink the tired out of his eyes.

"You need to rest," Castiel commented, standing behind him.

Resting his wait on his hands splayed out on the counter, Dean hung his head, sighing deeply. "I'm fine."

He felt the angel sidle up beside him before he heard him speak. "You are of no use to your brother if you are so exhausted that you're unable to even lie convincingly."

Dean rolled his yes, turning his lolling head towards the angel. "Name one lie that I've ever told you that you actually believed."

Castiel regarded him before speaking evenly, "When you told me that you swore your allegiance to god an his angels. By refusing Michael and evading Zachariah, you proved the statement to be a lie."

Dean turned, crossing his arms over his chest and resting his hips against the counter. "Actually, that part wasn't the lie."

Castiel frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Dean sighed, looking at the floor before answering in a deep voice. "I meant what I said in the moment, but I wasn't swearing to "god", or any of the angels ... I was only making that promise to one angel. I swore to follow you, Cas."

The angel stared into the green eyes darkened by sadness and grief, and the poor kitchen lighting. "I understand."

Dean chuckled. "Well, it'd be great if you could let me in on that epiphany, 'cause I'm so exhausted, not a word out of my mouth is making sense to me."

Castiel stepped forward, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Another time. For now, your body requires sleep."

Dean broke his gaze from Castiel's, looking down in near-shame. "I'm ..." he couldn't get the words past his lips.

Castiel nodded. "Afraid," he finished, as though it were the most simplistic thing in the world.

Dean nodded his heavy head. "I just don't want anything to happen while I'm out. I need to be here - and aware - in case something happens with Sam, or -"

Castiel tightened his grip tenderly, stopping Dean before his rant could begin. "I will be here, Dean. I will ensure that nothing happens to Sam, Bobby, or you."

Dean lifted his head back up, gazing into the crystal-blue eyes looking steadily back at him. "Promise?"

Castiel nodded, not a trace of doubt in his eyes. "I will watch over you."

Dean let his sleep-deprived body give in, making his way to the living-room couch. It wasn't until his head had hit the cushion and he'd succumbed to unconsciousness that he thought of his mother's soft words. At that particular moment in time, they were true ... except there was only one angel watching over Dean that night.

In his dream, Dean could feel calm fingers burning a soothing path across his scalp ... almost as though the angel were running a comforting hand through his short, soft hair.

Twelve hours later and well-rested, Dean imagined he could still feel that graceful pressure in every part of his body whenever the angel glanced his way.


The end.

Just a short little one-shot. As I said, not too mushy ... but every great romance has to start somewhere.

Reviews are like chocolate ... I can't get enough of them. But unlike chocolate, they won't bug my teeth. Flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!