He was back, after only a few hours. But this time it was different. He looked down on the man, who was lying in the bed, peacefully sleeping now, after a difficult hunt and the long drive to Bobby's. Castiel had helped with the hunt and he had kept the brothers company on the drive, tough not the whole way. He'd had to get back up to heaven to take care of a few things.
But now he was back.
He liked watching Dean when he slept. He didn't do it very often though. Hardly ever when the two hunters stayed at some cheap motel, sharing a room.
Castiel wasn't afraid that Dean might wake up and catch him watching in silence. He already knew what he would say in that case, how to explain his presence in the room. This didn't mean he was planning on waking Dean up one day, because the little speech he had prepared wasn't the truth. He could never tell Dean the truth, for Dean would surely resent it, resent him.
No, he was afraid that Sam might wake up and catch him watching Dean. That was something Castiel had no idea how to explain to the younger Winchester and then the elder Winchester, too, as Dean would certainly wake up from Sam asking questions. That would ruin everything and he couldn't let that happen. He liked being around Dean too much.
In fact he liked Dean too much. More than he should, as an Angel of the Lord, more than he could ever let Dean know. Dean would never feel the same way about him, Castiel was sure of that.
So every time when the brothers stayed at Bobby's and didn't share a room, Castiel would secretly appear in Dean's room, when Dean was asleep and watch in silence. He listened to the soft, even breathing and he felt at peace. It was a feeling he only had anymore in these small, stolen moments.
He never felt like this in heaven anymore, even though he had felt like that before he had rebelled. But that had changed everything, Dean had changed everything. But he didn't regret a thing, because now Dean, unknowingly, gave him the kind of peace, that heaven no longer offered him. Even now, that he was no longer cut off from heaven, it was never the same as it had been before. Before he had known Dean.
Slowly, carefully he moved closer to the bed, stretching out a hand as if he was going to touch the sleeping man. He didn't do that, of course, even though he wanted to very much. But that would probably wake Dean and Castiel couldn't risk that.
So he let his hand hover a few inches above Dean's motionless body. His hand moved , almost as if on it's own, to Dean's shoulder where his, Castiel's, handprint was burned into the hunters skin. The hand print that marked Dean as his, but that was another thing he could never tell him.
He stood like that for a long time, he didn't know how long, his hand right above the mark he had made, when he had pulled Dean out of hell.
When he noticed a change in Dean's breathing he pulled his hand away and silently retreated into a corner of the room. Dean was waking up, which meant Castiel was going to have to leave now. But that was alright, he had spent several relaxing and peaceful hours here. This night had helped him gather the strength he needed for the fights that lay ahead. And the knowledge that the brothers would spend a few days at Bobby's helped as well, because he knew he could come back and watch Dean again for a few more nights.
As Dean stirred under his blanket, Castiel finally disappeared as quietly as he could.
But maybe not as quietly as he should have, because Dean thought he had heard something as he was waking up. But when he looked around his room there was no one there and nothing was out of place. Shaking his head to clear away the last bits of the strange dream he'd had, he absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder, where Castiel's hand print was. He could have sworn he'd find the angel in his room as he woke up and now he was strangely disappointed about finding the room empty.