Title Made With Real Essentials

Disclaimer Me no own, you no sue

Warning Implied Cas/Dean; Spoilers up to S4; Wincest

Note bold italics - dialogue; italics - Cas

-z-

Feelings die. It was a simple and harsh truth.

We had to bury you.

Bobby's words ring in your head as you run your fingers through SammySamjustSam's hair.

Months had passed and Sam had had to let go of you at some point.

You were gone, Dean.

Sam's words sting like a slap to the face.

Oh, sweet heavens, if only you could forget.

But, you can't. And that's the Big Red bitch of it all.

We had to bury you.

You know that! You know that nothing had gone right since Dad's death and Sam's turn toward darker tendencies.

You had tried to fix it. Tried to be one with your brother the way you used to be. But, now that you look at him, really look at him, you've realized that this isn't your Sammy. This man in front of you is someone different.

I'm sorry, Dean.

Castiel stands close, trying to comfort you. You close your eyes and sink down into the bed that Sam was supposed to be in.

The angel knees next to the bed, places a hand over your heart. The light contact makes you jump and you opened your eyes in time to see the soft smirk on Castiel's face.

I just wanted to see. I just wanted to understand.

You want to tell him that there is no understanding this. You've had to live with it for thirty years now and you've never completely understood what exactly it was that drove you and Sam over that line.

So Castiel looked into your heart. You ask what he sees and the look in those baby-blues make you shiver.

You have so much to give, Dean. So much love for someone who is no incapable of returning it.

You wanted to hit him.

I'm frankly quite surprised that you have any room in there for me.

With a scowl and hidden blush you tell him politely to fuck right on off. He smiles patiently and moves his hand from your chest up to cover your eyes.

Sleep, Dean, everything will be better in the morning.

You ask him to stay with you.

For God commands his angels to guard you in all your ways. With their hands they shall support you, lest you strike your foot upon a stone.

You stare at him, not quite sure what he was getting at.

You've read hundreds of books on hundreds of religions, but you've never thought to pick up the Bible?

You just keep staring. You want to see if you can get him riled up at all. Sure, it's a childish move, but you figure that in the end - none of will matter.

Psalms. Chapter ninety-one. Try it sometime?

You want to talk more, but suddenly your eyelids were just too heavy as a soft voice sang and a comforting, soothing presence beckoned you into unconsciousness.

-x-

You don't dream of Hell for the first time in a long time.

And when you wake up - Cas is sitting on the other bed, a soft smile on his lips and a cup of coffee in his hand.

You feel safe now, as Cas hands you the coffee, for the first time in a long time - you feel truly safe.

-z-