Title: Dread

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Minor spoilers for 6x17, heavy on the angst

Word count: 949

Summary: In the aftermath of resinking the Titanic and setting the timeline right again, Castiel is surprised by Dean's easy acceptance of the events, which makes him wonder how Dean will feel about what Castiel's doing for the sake of defeating Raphael…

Dean had taken the news surprisingly well, all things considered. The Titanic was once again a rotting heap of aged metal at the bottom of the ocean, and two of Dean's makeshift family were once again dead. Honestly, Castiel had expected an eruption of indignant anger, some outpouring of grief aimed at him. He would have accepted it, understood it, even, but it never came. The angel had gone to the Winchesters to break the news with an entire speech planned out in his head, one reminding them that he had no choice, that he resank the ship to keep them safe. He had intended to appeal to Dean's cynicism and guiltily use it to justify his position in what the man would undoubtedly see as the murders of Ellen and Jo.

It was Castiel's very willingness to exploit Dean's cynical expectation of tragedy that made Dean's acceptance of the situation so unnerving. Sam had retreated back inside, obviously lost in his own memories of Ellen and Bobby.

"I expected some sort of outburst," Castiel said, surprised that he had actually voiced his thoughts.

Dean shrugged, leaning against the Impala's hood. "What would the point be? I'm just glad Bobby won't remember any of it."

Castiel nodded. "It is…regrettable that he is once again alone."

Raising an eyebrow, Dean snorted. "Who said he's alone? Bobby's got us."

Dean's words were plain and spoken with obvious conviction of belief. For all the things the man didn't believe in, his faith in his allies was humbling, even to an angel of the Lord. Castiel still felt like an ass. He'd spent a fair bit of time mulling over how the brothers would take the news that their timeline was restored, worked himself to a state of considerable anxiety.

"I killed them," Castiel blurted out. He watched with morbid fascination as Dean's body tensed for a second, green eyes peering at him guardedly. Then Dean huffed and shook his head with a small, rueful smile.

"You did what you had to do, Cas. I know that."

A heavy feeling rose in the gut of Castiel's vessel, something that he had felt on several occasions, but had never thought to properly categorize. Taking a moment to study it, Castiel realized it was fear. He was pretty sure there was a more specific word for the exact type of fear, but he was unaware of it.

"Dean…" He looked down at his shoes so he wouldn't have to look into the hunter's eyes. "If I did something…something that you would be opposed to, would you slay me?"

Dean's eyes widened, though the angel wasn't looking. Trying to mask his surprise, his voice took on a teasing tone when he spoke. "Something like what? Stealing my porn stash? Drinking my last beer? I'd be pissed, but that stuff's hardly a capital offense."

With a graveled sigh, Castiel shook his head and scowled at Dean. "I realize I don't have a way with words, as you might say. What I mean is, what would I become to you if I did something you considered unacceptable, no matter the reason? I realize that you and Sam would try to stop me, but how far would you go to prevent my success?"

"Cas-you're not makin' any sense," Dean said, his expression forcibly neutral. "Is there a reason you're asking me this? Did you do something…?"

"No," the angel lied, guilt flashing through him so powerfully that it hurt. "It's just…you go to great lengths to protect your allies, even when it means overlooking horrible things they may do." Castiel could see Dean's mouth tighten and knew the hunter understood that he was referring to Sam. "I know I am your friend, and I value our friendship, Dean. But if I-"

Dean stepped forward, his anger making it seem as if he was looming over Castiel, despite the two being almost the same height. Emotion was burning through Dean's eyes, and the angel fell silent.

"You wanna know if I'd kick your ass if you did something stupid? Or if I'd kill you?" Dean growled, and it fit well with his animalistic expression. "What the hell? Dude, do you really think I'm that much of a dick?" Dean stopped when their bodies were nearly touching, his voice growing quieter, the heat of his words replaced with conviction. "If you did something I'd be that against, it'd be for a damn good reason. Maybe I act like I have a stick up my ass a lot these days, but I know you better than you seem to realize. Jesus, Cas, I'm not saying it'd be 'forgive and forget,' but I'd at least hear you out. And as for stopping you, you're a freakin' angel. I couldn't stop you if I tried."

"Unless you killed me."

Dean glared at Castiel with what almost seemed like betrayal in his eyes. "I wouldn't do that. Even if you ended up blowing the whole fucking world apart, you're…you're my friend, Cas, and I trust you. So whatever this is about, you can tell me."

"It's merely…speculation." It was difficult to look into Dean's eyes at that very moment, difficult not to flinch under the weight of the man's emotions. Whatever irritation Castiel had been feeling toward Dean lately seeped away in the face of such raw loyalty.

Dean held his gaze for a full minute before looking away. "Great, but if it ever becomes more than that, you let me know, Cas. You hear me?" He turned and walked inside Bobby's house, leaving the angel standing in front of the Impala alone.

Castiel had never felt so tainted in his entire existence.