A/N: This is my first Destiel fic so judge not. Please? I'll cry... Un-BETAd so all mistakes (of which I'm sure there are plenty because I'm lazy) are mine. Might re-read and fix later but really, I doubt it. Enjoy!

Dean shifted on the bed, eyes scrunched up to match his tense body. Disconcerting images flashed through his subconscious mind and his heart was pounding as the shouting audible to only his ears grew in volume. And then his eyes snapped open and he let out a deep, slightly shaky breath. Before he could even start to consider whether he wanted to attempt sleep again or not, the hunter felt something move beside him and realized that it was probably the same thing that had woken him up in the first place.

He was resting on his left side so he didn't have a clue as to what was responsible for the shifting. All he knew was that he had to kill it before it most likely killed him. Heart still hammering against his ribcage, Dean's hand slowly felt for the knife he knew was resting under his pillow. As soon as his fingers closed around the familiar handle, he rolled over, pinning down whatever had made the stupid decision to attack him in his sleep.

The knife was raised in the air, ready to kill but before he could cut any throats, he realized that the pair of blue eyes staring up at him in confusion were all too familiar. "Cas?"

Instead of the accustomary 'Hello, Dean,' the hunter had grown so used to, Castiel just stared at the blade, moonlight glinting off it's sharp edge. Carefully, Dean lowered the knife, the angel's eyes following it warily. When Cas nervously gulped, even Dean's sleep muddled mind could piece together that something was wrong. Way wrong. The heavenly member of their trio needed help.

Remembering his current position practically straddling what he'd wrongly assumed was a threat, he clambered onto the floor, standing up straight and placing the knife on the nightstand. Dean cleared his throat and regained his composure, eyes locked on Cas as he moved to sit up on the bed.

His eyes were darting around the room and the angel's usually ruler straight spine was crouched, his posture defensive, guarded. Oh yeah, something was definitely up.

"You okay there, Cas?" Dean asked cautiously and was taken aback when Castiel's gaze snapped over to him, blue eyes wide. The angel's arms wrapped around his torso and the rise and fall of his chest was rapid as he slowly worked himself towards hyperventilating.

"Dude, relax," Dean tried but when he reached out a hand towards Cas's shoulder, the angel flinched away, shrinking even further into himself.

Dean's hand snapped back like he'd been burned and he watched with unease as blue eyes continued to move around the room. Castiel looked as if he expected someone or something to jump him at any second. A quiet snore from behind the hunter reminded him of Sam's presence and without breaking his eyes from Cas, Dean reached a hand backwards until it landed on the lump on the bed.

"Sam," he tried, pushing at the oversized body. It earned him a quiet groan. Dean couldn't help but think that if it had been something out for blood that had made it's way into their motel room instead of Castiel, Sam probably would have slept peacefully through the attack. Still not daring to take his eyes off the angel, not that it would make any difference if he decided to flap his wings and bolt, Dean rolled his eyes.

"Goddammit, Sammy, you can catch up on your beauty sleep later. We have a situation here," he growled, giving his brother a few more forceful shoves. And then finally, he felt Sam move on the bed.

"Dean?" Sam's confused voice was heard, sounding raspy with sleep.

"Who were you expecting, the tooth fairy? Look." Dean jerked his chin towards Cas, listening to the bed groan as Sam moved. A pair of feet appeared in his peripheral vision and seconds later, his brother was standing next to him.

"What happened?" he asked as he regarded the angel dubiously, taking in the jerky movements of his head and the way he was flinching at seemingly nothing.

"Hell if I know," Dean muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wake up and there he is, terrified of his own freaking shadow."

"Maybe he got scared of your snoring?"

"Shut it, Sammy. This isn't funny. We gotta help the guy."

Castiel's eyes suddenly landed on the two brothers and it looked as if some clarity slowly seeped back into the blue orbs. "Dean?" His voice was just as gravelly as usual but it cracked nervously on the single word.

"Cas, what the hell happened to you?" Dean was quick to ask, not knowing how long they had before jittery Castiel returned full force. They needed some answers if they were going to help. He uncrossed his arms but he didn't dare make another move towards the angel just yet.

"I..." Cas started uncertainly, arms still tightly wrapped around himself in protection against something neither of the humans saw or sensed. He swallowed thickly. "I was walking near a cathedral in Missouri when..." another pause, another nervous gulp. Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "I felt like someone was trailing me. I was... unnerved." The angel distractedly rubbed at his throat, staring up at them with wide eyes.

"I came here," he continued, shooting another nervous glance towards the door leading to the hallway. "I could still feel the presence."

"Presence of what, Cas?"

"I... I don't know." Blue eyes averted to the ground and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of Castiel's nails scratching against the skin of his throat.

"Wanna explain the nap, then?" Dean pushed, ignoring Sam's questioning stare to the side of his head.

Castiel didn't look up and Sam's eyebrows furrowed as the scratching seemed to be getting more frantic. "Is he..."

In one sudden movement, Cas was on his feet, desperately tugging at the tie around his neck, gasping for air. "Look, man, you gotta relax," Dean tried, distress audible in his voice as his eyes flitted to the angry red scratches on the angel's neck, visible even in the dim lighting of the motel room.

As soon as Sam stretched out a hand towards Castiel, the angel jumped back, almost tripping as he hit the bed. "Don't," he snapped, quickly backing away from the two brothers on unsteady feet, shaky hands raised in defense.

"Get away from me," he whimpered once his back had hit the wall and he slowly slid down to the floor, trench coat pooling around him as he curled up. Dean and Sam exchanged hopeless looks as Castiel looked around the room, eyes wide and filled with terror.

"Bobby?" Sam asked quietly, his brow creased in worry.

"Bobby," Dean confirmed, sighing as his brother nodded and went off to get a cell. Meanwhile, Dean stared hopelessly at Cas, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. Out of the three of them, the one with the angel radio and the connection to heaven was supposed to be the most stable one. Seeing him like this made Dean's gut churn with worry. They were going to fix whatever it was that was wrong with him and then Dean was going to kill the son of a bitch that had done this in the first place, with his bare hands.

…...

When Sam finally got off the phone after a long conversation, which despite his urging, Dean hadn't been allowed to join, Castiel was still cowering in the corner. Dean had watched him as he'd drawn his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs before hiding his face in the tan trench coat.

"Please tell me you have good news," he said and the bed dipped as Sam sat down next to him, both pairs of eyes fixed on the angel.

"Sort of," Sam sighed and Dean groaned. Things never really could be simple for them.

"I described... well, that-" he gestured towards Castiel, whose head snapped up as if on cue, eyes once more flitting wildly around the room, "-and the first thing Bobby thought of? Ghost sickness."

"What? But he's an-"

"Angel. That's what I said. And in theory, angel's shouldn't get sick. But there's something wrong with Cas and ghost sickness is all we have to work with right now." Sam sighed, pushing himself up off the bed.

"I'll try to find one of those shady internet cafes that are always open since someone messed with my laptop and gave it a virus." The younger brother delivered a pointed stare to Dean who just grinned. "Maybe there were some strange deaths near that cathedral or whatever that Cas was hanging around. There can't be that many cathedrals in Missouri, right?"

Dean nodded and Sam dug out a shirt from his duffel bag, throwing it on over the gray T-shirt. When the older brother started moving as well, reaching for his own bag, Sam pointed a finger straight at his face and raised his eyebrows. "You stay here."

"And do what exactly?" Dean shot back, slapping away the offending finger with a glare before he glanced over at Cas. The angel had moved so that his face was once more buried in his arms was gently rocking back and forth. The sight was disturbing to say the least.

"I don't know. Just... keep him calm, I guess," Sam provided not so helpfully and the older brother scoffed.

"Thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome." Sam grinned, running a hand through his mess of a hair before he headed for the door, patting Dean's shoulder as he passed. "Bitch," Dean shouted after his brother, an amused 'jerk' slipping through before the door to the motel room closed.

Silence reigned for a minute until the hunter registered the slight scratching that could be heard. Eyebrows furrowed, he carefully walked over to Castiel, stopping a safe distance of three feet away and crouching down.

"Cas?" he asked tentatively, tilting his head slightly. The scratching stopped and ever so slowly, Castel's head lifted from the trench coat. The blue eyes were still wide, the dim light coming from the lamp on the desk glinting off the dilated pupils, but then recognition settle in along with the fear.

"Dean?"

Dean let out a sigh of relief, flopping down onto the ground, his legs awkwardly bending underneath him. "Hey, buddy. You look a little tense."

A barely visible shudder ran through Cas's body and it made Dean's anger bubble up once more. He was going to freaking flambeau that ghost like a slab of raw meat.

Castiel shifted slightly on the ground before he started scratching at his throat once more. Angry red marks were starting to form on and around his Adam's apple and a thin line of blood was starting to seep through the worst scratches.

"You gotta stop scratching, man," Dean tried, his voice an impressive mix of annoyed and soft. Castiel blatantly ignored him, tilting his head as he desperately clawed at the skin of his throat. "Dude, I'm serious," he warned but Cas seemed lost to the world as he winced when his nails broke skin once more.

With an aggravated sigh, Dean grabbed hold of the angel's wrist, tugging it away from his throat. Cas looked mildly shocked but he didn't attempt to get out of the grip, which Dean knew he was fully capable of.

"My throat hurts," he remarked sourly and Dean frowned.

"Yeah, no kidding. You're scratching off all your skin," the hunter shot back and Castiel tugged his hand back halfheartedly.

"Come on, you big baby," Dean muttered, clambering to his feet before grabbing hold of the angel's other wrist, tugging him onto his feet. The tiny tremors that seemed to be running down Cas's spine grew when he stood and Dean cursed under his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do with a jumpy angel that currently had the courage of a freaking baby deer?

Just as the annoyed thought crossed through his mind, a car alarm went off in the motel parking lot. At the sound of fluttering, Dean's hands were empty and they dropped back to his sides, the room now missing an angel. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He rubbed his face in annoyance, cursing the world. The car alarm thankfully died down, although the owner of the car was now permanently on Dean's black list. With the silence that now once more engulfed the room, he was able to hear the quiet sound of... whimpering? Really?

Almost warily, Dean turned around and almost laughed at what he saw. Almost. The covers of his bed were haphazardly flung over the lump that now rested in the middle of the bed, a small part of the dirty trench coat visible where it hung off the bed.

"Back in my bed, Cas? I appreciate the effort but it's going to take a bit more than that to get into my pants," he remarked jokingly, but there was sadly no one around to appreciate the greatness of it, as he moved up to the bed. If there hadn't been the looming idea that Castiel might possibly die from this like Dean had come close to, he just might have found the 'four year old that's afraid of thunderstorms' act kinda... adorable. In the way that he was going to tease Cas endlessly about it, of course.

"Cas, come on. Get out of the bed," Dean said, growing a bit exasperated, tugging at the covers. They didn't budge and the lump on the bed didn't move. "Your shoes are muddy and I have to sleep there. Go make a mess of Sammy's bed." No response. The hunter groaned.

After a few more minutes of trying -of which the attempts were threatening, bargaining, pleading and reverse psychology- Dean gave up. If the angel wanted to be a stubborn ass baby and hide under the covers, he wasn't going to give a single fuck.

With a very loud, very melodramatic sigh, he flopped onto Sammy's bed, turning on the TV set before he crossed his arms behind his head. Castiel had stopped whimpering and the tremors were slowly dying down so Dean figured there was nothing for him to do now while the angel seemed as content as he possibly could.

Minutes passed and Dean was hooked in by an old western currently showing on one of the channels, although he always spared a side glance to the lump on the bed every now and then.

But then, gunfire drifted through the speakers and into the room and the covers were almost tossed into the air before the fluttered back down. Dean startled until he felt something warm pressing against his side.

"You've gotta be- Cas, what the hell are you doing?" No response. Just a quiet whimper. Castiel's hands were actually balled up, clutching at Dean's dirty sleep shirt for dear life, his face buried into Dean's side.

"Get off me man, this is ridiculous," Dean said, sounding slightly outraged as he shoved at the angel, pushing himself away. Before he could scoot too far on the bed, blue eyes met his with a kicked puppy dog look worthy of Sam's applause. Maybe he'd been going to Sasquatch for pointers on 'getting Dean to do what you want by staring at him with eyes that are honest to god twinkling.'

In the end, Dean's stubbornness and unwillingness to have Cas freaking cuddled up to him probably would have prevailed against that pleading look if it hadn't been for the fear that so easily shone through and not just through Castiel's eyes. Remembering his own highly unpleasant experience with ghost sickness, Dean sighed and relaxed back against the headboard, shooting Cas a warning glance when he moved closer. "You can stay on the bed but no cuddling," he deadpanned and Castiel cocked his head before he gave a jerky nod.

"Alright then," Dean said carefully, watching warily as Cas also moved against the headboard, once more pulling his knees up to his chest. A track of mud lined the sheets where the shoes had dragged and the equally dirty trench coat pooled around Cas. With a sigh, Dean allowed himself to focus on the movie once more, although with every tremor that ran through Castiel, he found his stomach dropping further and further.

…...

The hissing in his ears was almost overwhelming and after a few more minutes of trying to block it out, Castiel brought his hands up to cover his ears. Of course, it didn't help at all and he screwed his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands harder into his ear.

A hand on his shoulder made him startle to a point where he almost fell off the side of the bed and the hissing was briefly replaced with the sounds of the western and Dean's voice carefully speaking his name. A dark shadow hissed as it quickly passed behind Dean and Castiel winced away, barely noticing the concern that was seeping into Dean's stare.

He swallowed thickly but the constriction to his throat was back and blue eyes widened in nothing short of panic as he started to scratch at his throat again in an attempt to get rid of the band that felt like it was choking him. Feeling his nails break skin, his face contorted into an even more panicked expression because he just wasn't getting rid of the illusionary noose. Blood was starting to gather under his nails when he felt hands grab at both his wrists.

Jerking away from the touch, Castiel scrambled to stand up from the bed and after only a second of persisting, Dean let go. Another shadow figure flew past and the angel jerked, stumbling backwards into the middle of the room, not even aware of Dean swiftly getting up to help.

As soon as Castiel turned around, his eyes met a familiar, green eyed stare. Except the usually vibrant eyes he'd grown so fond of were now cold and he faltered as he took a step back. Dean stared down at him, a sneer playing on his lips. "You're not afraid, Cas?" he asked tauntingly and Castiel attempted to swallow down his constricted throat.

"Go figure. Me and Sam get stuck with the runt of the group. I can't even get my ass saved by a real angel. Oh, no. I get stuck with your feathered ass and what good are you, huh?" Dean continued and Castiel's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

"But-" was the only thing he managed to choke out before Dean stepped forward, strong hands he used to associate with comforting touches now wrapping around his neck, replacing the phantom noose.

"You're not my friend. You're not my ally." Castiel's heart was pounding so hard he was sure it had to burst out of his chest soon, even though that defied all laws of physics. And with how rapidly he was breathing, the choke hold around his neck was in no way helping. "You're not fucking worthy, Cas. You don't think you deserve to be around us and you're right. Because you know what? You're gonna get us killed. Me and Sam. When we die, it'll all be on you."

"Dean, please," Castiel barely managed to rasp before the grip on his throat tightened. He clawed desperately at the hands and the unfamiliar sensation of tears pricking at his eyes caught him off guard.

"I don't care about you," Dean continued bitterly. "You think I fucking like you?" A sharp, cold laugh. "Don't kid yourself, Cas."

Castiel had fought his way through to the deepest pits of hell but this? This had to be the most painful thing he had ever experienced. His body was wracking with shivers and he was gasping for air but the worst part had to be happening inside his chest. He finally understood what was being spoken of in all those shows Dean watched when Sam was out. When people talked about their heart breaking. This had to be what this was.

"You're nothing to me," Dean spat and Castiel felt a dull pain in his left arm that quickly intensified. Or maybe he really was correct about hearts not being able to physically break and this was just his vessel having a heart attack.

…...

"Cas, you have to snap out of it," Dean desperately tried, hands gripping at Castiel's upper arms so tightly that he was sure that someone without angel mojo would have large hand shaped bruises by tomorrow. But that was the least of their problems.

Castiel was starting to sweat profusely, grasping and clawing at something Dean couldn't see but was apparently attempting to choke the angel. And when the choked 'Dean, please,' escaped Cas, the terrified blue eyes locked on his, Dean's chest twisted and constricted, making him feel like a freaking wrung rag.

"Cas, please," Dean tried again, louder this time, not even bothering to hide the desperate tint to his tone because who was going to judge him?

For a brief second, Castiel's eyes lost that unfocused glaze and Dean felt relief wash over him. Until blue eyes screwed shut in pain and Cas doubled over. Dean kept his grip on his arms tight, his own eyes now wide in panic and confusion. Is he dying? Heart attack? Can angels eve get heart attacks? This is so fucking messed up.

Slowly, Dean sunk to the floor, pulling Castiel down with him. His face was still scrunched up, hands no longer clawing at his raw and bloody throat but instead clutching at his chest. Cas gasped and Dean forcefully shoved down the panic bubbling up. "Dammit, Cas! You are not dying from a freaking heart attack," he growled, giving the tense body in his arms an aggressive shake. Nothing. "Cas!"

A/N: Sorry I'm not sorry about the cliffhanger?