Author's Note: I was feeling stuck at one point of my long fic, so I thought I'd try my hand at 100-word drabble. I hope I delivered.

Pain. Alastair had been at it for months, years, carving and slicing as only he could, until the pain was Dean's world, filling him until he sensed nothing else. Thirty years, and Dean was just so tired. He couldn't do this anymore.

"Please, I'll do it, anything, just – just stop, for the love of God."

Dean's eyes snapped open. He heard a sharp "No!" escape his lips, felt the dampness of tears on his cheeks – and then he was folded into the impossible softness of Castiel's wings, the nightmare banished. With his angel watching over him, Dean Winchester could sleep.