More than a Man

"Dean, you're just a man. I'm an angel." Castiel regretted the words as soon as they had tumbled out of his mouth, but he knew that there was no taking them back. He could see the pain that he had caused bubbling just beneath the man's surface, so he did as he always did in such times. And with a flap of his wings, he was gone.

All the angel could do was silently sit there hating himself for his harsh words. The more he thought about it, the worse it was. Dean may have been a mortal man, but he was so much more than even he knew. His constant belief in the people around him was inspiring enough to make even Castiel hope for better.

At Sam's darkest, he was there, searching for a cure, for a way to save his soul. And against all odds, he found a way to get it back, doing the impossible and enlisting Death.

He couldn't deny that there was something about this Winchester boy, something in his purity. There was a light so bright in him that creatures of the night both saw and feared it. He had an honest to goodness magnetism that drew them all in and bent their will to his own. Or perhaps it was hidden in the virid green depths of his eyes that seemed to display every emotion and compel those subject to them to comply.

But above all that, Dean believed, not necessarily in God, but in right and wrong, good and bad. His morals immovable, his faith unshakeable, his hope stronger than one could imagine. And even demons like Crowley had to respect that, had to appreciate just how impossible it was to break Dean Winchester and just how secretly, they didn't really want to.

Castiel stood over his human's bed, watching his Dean sleep. It was funny how night's cool embrace smoothed his normally furrowed brow, and how the years disappeared from his face as though they had never existed. And while he slept so peacefully, others plotted and schemed, all ideas circling around this one seemingly simple person who was so much more than he thought. If only he knew. He wasn't just a vessel or a fate already written down, he was wonderfully made, seeped in a strange mash of belief in good and bad. He was a light, leading the world down a confusing path, acting as the canary in the mine, darting around the cage and hoping there was no toxic gas.

Cas leaned down to his friend's face, his voice full of heavy regret. "You're more than a man, so much more." Though he knew that this didn't matter, he didn't care. This wasn't some show of affection, some action that deserved praise. This was all for Dean, the man who was more.

A/N:

Well, I'm officially out of my retirement, and am now finally writing fanfiction again. Yay! I'm sorry about the unintentional hiatus, but I've actually been sort of dedicated to forcing myself to sit down and write my real, legit novel. (Such a pile of [crap] work!) But it's the summer before my freshman year of college, and I plan to donate at least some medium portion of that time to you awesome and supportive people.

Anyway, thanks for reading all of this. I hope you enjoyed my third, tiny foray into the Supernatural universe. (I'm so extremely addicted to this show right now. You don't even know.) Tell me what you think! Remember, reviews feed me and I'm not afraid of the flames.

Remember: Reviews= happy camper. Happy camper= quicker updates. Quicker updates= you reading more. It's a cycle keep it going!

Yours truly, madly, and deeply,

Einstinette