AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, and thanks for clicking on this story! This is based off a prompt from the lovely and very talented writer ThePoisonedOne. The prompt was for Cass to slip Dean a love potion :) I hope you enjoy this story. Reviews make my day!
WARNING: While this story could really be set in any season, there might be spoilers for up to season seven. Also, this is rated Teen because of some slightly sexual content, and violence. It won't get any more inappropriate or violent than the actual show.

True Love

Chapter 1: A Certain Blue Eyed Angel

(Sam's Perspective)

The brothers examined the bloody corpse before them. Both were silent as they took in the horrible, ripped open body. She had once been beautiful, that much was obvious. Her face was pale, and her hair was blonde. She reminded Sam a little of a porcelain doll, something he had always found to be vaguely sinister. The Winchesters were used to seeing dead bodies, but that didn't make it less awful. Sam still remembered being a little boy, and being freaked out by things like this, and clinging onto Dean's arm at the sight of a cadaver. Poor Dean had never had someone like that to protect him when they were little. John Winchester was a kind man, a good man, a brave man, but he was never to Dean what Dean was to Sam. Dean was a guardian, a protector, now more than ever after all they had been through.

"So, what are we thinking?" he asked, glancing down at his big brother who was physically so much smaller than him. Sam considered the possibilities in his head, running a hand through his long, auburn hair. To be honest, he was stumped.

Sam missed the third member of their little group, the angel on their shoulders who would be able to tell them all about this woman's medical history and eating habits and everything else with just a touch, or a sniff. Maybe Dean had never had anyone who cared for him and protected him when they were little, but he sure did now. Maybe that was part of the reason Sam wished Castiel were there. Sam liked the spark that appeared in his brother's eyes when the angel was near. Of course it wasn't like Cass always came running when they called. Well, he usually did when it was Dean calling but, sometimes the matters of Heaven and Hell had to come first.

"I don't know. Lola, I mean, uh, the coroner, said that this was done to her with a kitchen knife by her boyfriend. It might not be our kind of thing." Sam ignored his brother's allusion to having hit on the coroner, except to roll his eyes briefly. If it moved and breathed, Dean would hit on it. That was fine, except that Sam sometimes wished his big brother were more open to happiness, to a chance at a better life, to love rather than many a brief rendezvous. Yeah, Sam thought sarcastically, because that worked out so well for me.

"Dean, it was her boyfriend of three years. All of her friends say they thought she seemed really happy. I doubt he's the one who ganked this girl."

"Right, but it was still, you know, a knife." Dean was examining his ruffled sandy hair in the reflection of his phone screen, which he pulled from his pocket.
"I still say this is worth checking out," Sam insisted. Dean nodded and dialed something on his phone. "Who are you calling?"

"The local prison," Dean answered. Sam raised his eyebrows. "That's where the boyfriend is being held in custody," the older Winchester explained. "I figure if we're going to check this out, we might as well go talk to this guy." Sam nodded at the logic, and waited as his big brother talked on the phone with the sheriff.

Dean explained that agents Steinhardt and Livgren would need to speak to the late Sarah Smith's boyfriend. Sam wondered how it was that no one ever recognized the familiarity of their aliases, but he supposed that after all the references were a little dated. Maybe he wouldn't even get them if it weren't for Dean.

"Well, let's go," Dean said, shutting the phone. They headed out of the coroner's office together, making their way through the parking lot to the black 1967 Chevy Impala. Dean patted the engine lovingly before hopping into the driver's side.

Sam hurried to get in, shivering. It was cold outside, and he wondered how his brother was not freezing in just his usual brown leather jacket. He himself was donning a heavy coat and gloves. Dean turned the key, and as the engine roared to life music started to blare. "She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen, knocking me out with those American thighs. You, shook me all night long."

"Dean, look," Sam tried to begin.

"What?" Dean yelled over the music. Sam gave his older brother a meaningful look. Dean sighed, and turned down the music a bit. "What?" he repeated.

"Dean, look, I think maybe we should call in some back up on this case," Sam said. He wasn't saying it very loud for a reason. He was a little nervous requesting back up on a case where only one person so far had died. Of course, the real reason he was doing it was more as an excuse to get his brother to spend some time around a certain blue eyed angel with messy black hair and a tan trench coat. He was pretty sure he knew what Dean's reaction would be, and he wasn't wrong. Dean snorted. I try to do something nice, Sam thought, and he makes fun of me.

Sam did his very best to be as subtle as possible so Dean wouldn't be embarrassed, and this was the way his big brother repaid him? Well it would be worth it if Dean was given an excuse to spend time with Castiel. To Sam, it seemed that Dean hardly ever gave himself a chance to do anything other than work, and therefore rarely spent time with his best friend. That was sad, because Cass seemed to be more important to the older Winchester than anyone except maybe himself, their father, or Bobby. Two of the three people on the list were dead. Maybe it was no wonder Dean was emotionally distant. Everyone he cared about went away. Sam just hoped Cass never did that.

"Are you going soft, Sammy?"

"No, I just think maybe some help would be nice, Dean."

"Who do you want to call?"

"I don't know, like, maybe, Cass," Sam tried to play off the suggestion as casual, and off the top of his head. He knew Dean would stop objecting once he heard his favorite angel's name, but only if he thought it was Sam's idea, and not his own.

"Yeah OK," Dean said. He looked so straight faced, like he was trying to hide something. Hell, this was Dean. He was always trying to hide something. If it involved emotion in any way shape or form, trying to get it out of Dean would be like trying to pull teeth, or call Cass when he was busy with angel business, which Sam sincerely hoped he wasn't right now.

Dean turned off the music and cleared his throat. Sam always felt as if he were invading on some private matter when Dean prayed to Castiel. There was something so powerful and intense between those two, something much different than the brotherly love between Sam and Dean, or the strong friendship Sam shared with Cass.

"Hey, Cass, you got your ears on?" Dean began. "So Sam and I are working a case, and we could really use all hands on deck. If you can, come meet us." Dean briefly explained their exact location, as he turned the corner and pulled into the parking lot of the local police office.

As they climbed out of the Impala there was a soft fluttering sound. Sam and Dean stopped in their tracks as Castiel appeared in front of them. He was inches away from Dean. Sam snorted as his big brother almost walked right into their angel friend.

"Hey Cass, come on man, how many times do we have to talk about this? Personal space," Dean complained.

"My apologies," Castiel said, backing away a bit. "You required my assistance?"

"Yeah," Dean said, seeming to recover himself. Sam noticed a pinkish tint in his brother's skin. What the hell? Dean averted his brother's eyes as he told Cass about the case.

Sam watched his big brother explain to their friend about the mysterious demise of the woman who had supposedly had the perfect boyfriend right up until he mutilated her with a kitchen knife. Dean was definitely stumbling over his words and struggling with basic sentences. What was going on with him?

"So basically, either we are dealing with some kind of monster that controls people, or true love just wasn't so true," Dean concluded. Castiel nodded slowly.

"Well, let us go and find out which," he said. They all headed towards the police station to face either a crazy psychopath, or the victim of some kind of supernatural horror.