So I really enjoyed "My Bloody Valentine," and wanted to show Castiel's take on the situation. I haven't written a one-shot for a while, so this was fun! :D

Disclaimer: If they were mine, this show would have been taken off the air years ago because of angst-overload. :P

I had a nice little break from Creative Writing homework to get this done. The creative juices were already flowing, so here it goes!

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Castiel grit his teeth together quietly as Dean got up and left, reducing the door-waiting support group of a withdrawal-stricken Sam down to one. Leaning his head back against the cold iron door behind him, he closed his eyes tiredly. It was never supposed to be this way, he supposed to himself as he listened to Sam's desperate screams behind him. A year and a half ago, he had been given one mission; rescue Dean Winchester from hell. And he had done his mission as ordered. But then he had been assigned to work with Dean, to teach him what was needed to be done in order to stop Armageddon. Somewhere between pulling Dean from the pit and being his advisor, he had gotten close with the man.

Angels didn't make friends. They didn't feel the human emotions that would bring about compassion or loyalty. Those emotions were reserved for their heavenly father and him alone. But nevertheless, Castiel had begun to feel them. Dean was rude and cocky and immoral at his best of moments, but he was a good man. Behind the mask of the guy who drank too much and slept with countless women, he was lonely and desperate and hoping for someone to fix him. And Castiel had felt his constant pain, the shadow of past deeds that had followed him around everywhere he went. And he couldn't help feeling for this lost soul, even though he should have known better.

And it cost him; that was for sure. If Castiel hadn't let those emotions in, then doubt wouldn't have followed. And if he hadn't doubted, he wouldn't have been cast aside. Everyone that he had loved, everyone that he had depended on since forever – yes, he had even begun to feel emotions for his brothers and sisters too – had either betrayed him or had been taken from him. Uriel, Anna, Zachariah, Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, Lucifer… None of them understood why they were here on this planet. For them, it was all politics. They didn't realize that God had put them on this earth for one reason and one reason alone; the humans. It was their souls at stake, their lives and homes and children, and it was them who needed guidance. But none of them could see, even when they claimed to be doing God's work. They couldn't be true angels, because they couldn't feel the human emotions that they had sworn never to feel.

It was wrong, but in a way, Castiel wished that he could have been like them. He was still fighting for God, for humanity, but he had nothing anymore but God and humanity left on his side now. How was he supposed to help stop the end of the world, when he could barely time travel, or when he couldn't even send demon's back to hell? Demons, Satan, the heavenly host, they were all more powerful then him. They were blindfolded men holding rifles, and even though Castiel's blindfold had been removed, he was still without a weapon. Who was more dangerous in that bunch?

But that didn't mean he regretted befriending these people. Dean had shown him firsthand that free will and redemption were possible for anyone to achieve, and he had – whether being aware of it or not – been Castiel's sole friend in a world where he hadn't known what a friend was. Sam, all quirks and addictions aside, was also very consistent in welcoming Castiel into their little circle. Now that he had gotten to know the man a little bit, he could see that Sam was smart and helpful and loyal. He went out of his way to do little things for the people that he cared about, whether it be letting Dean pick the music, or getting things for Bobby from the top floor. And even though he struggled with an evil that he couldn't control, he had enough faith to light a room and he cared about people. Sam and Dean were both good men, but opposite in every way. While Dean was an outwardly dark pit with a light deep inside of him, Sam was an openly light soul with a dark pit hidden under the surface. The thing about being human, as Castiel was beginning to understand more and more every day, was that everyone had their demons. Even Bobby, who Castiel was just getting to know within this past few months, struggled with feelings of helplessness and incompetence. But these people, these good people, they all tried. That was what made them human. And in Castiel's eyes it was a much better thing to be a human then to be an angel. Harder maybe, but better. The emotions – both good and bad – were better feeling nothing at all.

Sometimes, he knew, both Sam and Dean wished that they could rid themselves of the dark emotions that plagued them. It was understandable, what with everything that they had gone through. With everything that they were still going through. But maybe someday they would understand that they, the humans, were the chosen ones. They would get peace soon, if only they had faith in the fact that everything would go to plan.

Wait, the plan?! The plan was everything that they were trying to stay away from. Castiel couldn't help the feeling of frustration that washed over him. Screw the plan. It was because of the plan that Michael and Lucifer were trying to use the world as their boxing court, and his brothers and sisters had torn each other apart. It was because of the plan that he was alone.

No, he wasn't alone. Castiel had Dean, Sam, and Bobby on his side. They were his friends. And friends were never alone when they were together.

Of course, that would make a lot more sense if they were together. Sam was alone, in the panic room, screaming his lungs out. Dean was alone, somewhere in the house, thinking long and hard about what Famine had told him. And Bobby was alone, upstairs, feeling bad about himself for not being able to help out with Sam's withdrawal. And Castiel was alone too. Maybe humanity was a bit more complicated than he had thought.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of Castiel's mind, and he stopped thinking for a moment so that he could explore it. It seemed that every day, he lost a little bit more of his angelic senses. But he had to work on it. He let his mind go blank, opening his awareness as much as he could muster until the something that he had caught onto made itself clear to him. It was a thought. A prayer. Someone was praying. He stretched his mind further, until he found the culprit.

Dean.

When he appeared in the living room Bobby started, nearly dropping the glass of scotch that he had such a tight hold on. "Cas! What" –

"Where's Dean?"

"Oh, he, uh…" Bobby was watching Castiel with an odd look. Had he scared him? "He went outside."

Castiel gave the man a nod and proceeded out the front door, where he stopped in the darkness and looked around carefully. It was odd to have to look for someone, instead of knowing where they were right away. But his instincts told him to go left, and so he did. He went out and around the building to the place where Dean usually parked the impala, and then he saw who he was looking for.

Dean was turned away from him, standing in the shadow of a stack of wrecked cars and facing the sky. Castiel marched out towards the man, and Dean's head turned in his direction once he got close enough for his footsteps to be heard. Running a hand over his face quickly, Dean let out a long pent-up breath before turning to face the angel. The look on his face spoke of exhaustion and sadness, although he also seemed to be irritated at Castiel's appearance. "For God's sakes Cas," he growled out in the general direction of the ground, turning away slightly in a very un-Dean-like way. "Human's need their alone time. Can't I have a damned minute to myself for once?!" He walked a few steps in the opposite direction, before looking back in frustration.

"I just…" Castiel hesitated when he realized that he didn't know what to say. He felt lost in this human culture, knowing virtually nothing about how they worked and only knowing that he knew virtually nothing. This must be what it felt like to be a child. Be an angel, he told himself forcefully. Just be an angel. He took a step forward assertively. "I heard you praying."

"So?" Dean's expression was hard to read, although Castiel was confused when he thought he saw something like embarrassment in there somewhere. "Was I praying to you?"

"Well no, but" –

"Then… Well what the hell?" Even though Dean was fighting, Castiel could see that he wasn't putting much heart into it. He was aware that by human standards, Dean was always afraid to let anyone see his emotions or weaknesses, even those who cared about him. But it was harder for him to achieve that now.

A few more steps took Castiel closer to Dean, and in the moonlight he could see a wet sheen from smudged tears on the man's face. "My father doesn't seem to be answering anyone's prayers right now. Not even mine."

"Then why are you here?" It appeared that Dean was watching the smoke rise from one of the many pieces of machinery in Bobby's salvage yard, although Castiel could see the wet blur across his eyes that suggested otherwise.

"Because I know that you can understand what I mean when I say that sometimes a son has to do his father's work when he isn't around." Castiel rested a hand on Dean's shoulder in support, even though he would have usually called the action "gay" – although Castiel never quite understood what being happy had to do with situation at hand – and for once Dean didn't pull away. "And trust that his father will come back to reward him someday."

For a moment, Dean seemed to think about that. "So you're just… You're saying that you're talking to me because you owe it to your dad?"

Somewhere, Castiel sensed that he had struck a nerve. "I never meant it to come across offensively, Dean." He struggled to try and find a way to comfort his friend properly, feeling helpless that he didn't know how. "I only want to help."

"You seem to have an endless supply of faith in that guy," Dean's lip curled up in a slight smirk, although it didn't seem condescending. "Don't you?"

"I take it mean that you don't?"

Huffing, Dean shook his head sadly. "How can I?" He turned to face Castiel again, looking both angry and depressed. "I'm trying man, I really am, but I don't even know how I'm supposed to have faith in God when…" He cut himself off.

"But you wouldn't have been praying if you didn't have some faith," Castiel pressed. "Would you?"

Dean threw his arms in the air in frustration. "I don't know, Cas! Maybe I'm just hoping that he is real, so that there can be one good thing on our side!"

"Dean, what do you have faith in?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. "I… I don't know." He hesitated, as if thinking about it was a hard thing for him. "God wont talk to me, the world is freaking falling apart around us, and there isn't a single one of us who can hold our own out there and you know it." Leaning his head down, Dean ran a hand over his spiky hair tiredly. "I know Sam's trying, but I still don't know what to do with him. It's a little hard to know how much I can depend on a guy to watch my back when he keeps falling off the bandwagon, you know? And Bobby's not exactly a limber fighting buddy, if you know what I mean."

"And what about me?" Castiel couldn't help feeling down at the thought of how unhelpful he really was. He could barely do anything that angels were supposed to do, and he only drew attention to the boys.
Dean looked up at Castiel in surprise, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time. He seemed to sense what Castiel was thinking. "No, Cas. I didn't…." He sighed deeply, his forehead creasing. "You're right, that's unfair."

The response to his question was so out-of-the-blue, that Castiel had a hard time comprehending what he was supposed to be right about. But lucky for him, Dean continued.

"I shouldn't be putting them under a microscope. I mean, we've all got our demon's right? I'd still trust those two with my life." Dean shrugged in a way that looked fake even to Castiel's inexperienced eyes, and eventually Dean met them. "And you're a good friend Cas, you know that." Dean bit his bottom lip between his teeth, and watched something in the distance over Castiel's shoulder for so long that he almost turned around. "I just… I'm just having a hard time having faith in anything lately, you know? I think Famine was right, there's just too much effed-up in here." Dean put a hand on his chest implicatively, and wiped at his face again angrily as another tear sprang loose. "That's what Alistair told me too, way back when, and I'm starting to think the two of them are right. What if I really did leave a part of myself back in the pit? What if I'm dead?"

Dean was looking at him now, as if Castiel was supposed to fix things. If he was under the impression that Castiel knew what he was doing, then he was mistaken. "I… I wish I knew how to prove to you otherwise, Dean." Castiel looked pleadingly at his friend, hoping that he would understand. "Because Famine was wrong. Alistair was wrong. You're not dead. Dead men don't put the effort into things that you do. They don't have your compassion. You're just…" He strained to find a word that would encompass what he knew to be true. "Tired. You're just tired. And this, trying to stop Armageddon, I know it's tiring. It is for all of us. But you can't just… You can't give in."

"Sometimes I want to, though. It feels like there's this…" Dean shrugged largely, gesturing with the motion of his arms. "This thing hovering over me that's it's just too damn heavy to carry around all the time. And I can't" –

"Then don't!" Throwing his arms in the air in return – a very human gesture that he was surprised to find himself making – Castiel took a step towards Dean. "Don't you see? This is what they want. Michael wants you isolated like this! But there are people in there," Castiel pointed a loud finger towards the house, his forehead frowning deep. "Who don't want to see that happen. I don't want to see that happen. You say that Bobby is like a father to you; do you think he doesn't care? And Sam? I'm sure he would take my place standing here and talking to you about this if he could. I consider you my friend, Dean. If the burden is too heavy, then let us help lift it. Have faith in us! And for God's sakes, have some faith in yourself!"

Looking visibly tired, Dean shook his head slightly, eyes downcast. "Cas…"

"A little faith never hurt anyone, Dean…" Castiel lowered his voice, knowing that the fight was over. "Please."

The air went out of Dean's lungs like a floodgate had been opened, and when he took a fresh breath it seemed to be of a different kind of air. "Alright…"

It was with relief that Castiel smiled at his human friend, and Dean smiled at the angel in return. After a few moments, Dean began to chuckle under his breath.

"What is it?"

"You said 'for God's sakes'," Dean's smile went ear to ear, and Castiel couldn't find much fault in causing it. "For you that's… wow. That's got to be the big no-no on the Sunday school naughty list, huh? You are so getting a time out for that one."

At first shocked to hear that he had taken the Lord's name in vain – which was in fact a crime among crimes among the Angelic rankings – Castiel didn't wait long to join in with a laugh of his own. Even though it was new to him, the laugh felt natural. "You are right… My superiors wouldn't be too happy if they knew." That thought gave him a sense of humor also, knowing that his was no longer under the jurisdiction of his superiors. "But I don't think you would tell on me."

Dean gave him an odd look, as if unsure how to take that last sentence. Maybe he thought it was a joke? Castiel didn't even know for sure if it was or not. How could one tell if they had made a joke?

"Look, Cas…" Dean adjusted the collar on his jacket somewhat uncomfortably. "Thanks for… You know…"

"Like I told you before, it's my duty."

There was a long pause. "You mean the angel thing?"

"No…" Castiel met Dean's eye soberly. Suddenly he understood. "The friend thing."

For once, Dean didn't look away from Castiel's stare right away. He met it with degrees of understanding and gratitude, that Castiel felt more than welcome accepting. Dean sighed. "We don't have to hug now or anything, do we?"

Castiel was taken aback. "Uh… Well I'm not really sure. Do you want too?

With a very obvious eye-roll, Dean huffed loudly enough to be heard for miles. "Sure, and afterwards we can tango. That sound fun to you?"

"Well I don't really know how to dance…" Castiel stopped himself when he caught on to the sarcasm laced thick in Dean's voice.

"It's a joke, Cas. Don't worry about it." As Dean walked past Castiel on his way towards the house, he slapped him hard on the shoulder hard before passing by.

It felt like friendship.

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*Paces* What did you guys think? Please review! You know how much I love hearing from you guys!?