Dug this out while looking for something else, I wrote it a little while ago so it's set in season five.
(I'm posting it now because I miss Cas...)

Patron Saint of a Sinner

What Castiel had been taught, was that every soul had a purpose, a destiny chosen for them to unknowingly fulfill. There really were no choices in life, because whatever path you followed, all roads would eventually lead to the fate that was long ago bestowed upon you. That's what he had been taught and that's all he thought he would ever know, until one man dared him to challenge it all. That man was Dean Winchester, a slightly damaged but well traveled soul he had been ordered to pull from the depths of Hell. Castiel didn't know it back then, but with a determination to stay true to himself and nothing more than a few sincere words, that man would have him questioning all he'd ever been taught.

Watching from the darkness of a corner as Dean took a seat at the small motel room table, the angel couldn't help but to think back at the night Lucifer walked free. That was the night he chose to follow a wayward soul down a path not yet charted, the night he turned his back on everything, because one man determined to stand up for what he believed in, convinced him, that their destiny wasn't written in stone. Dean Winchester had always been a fighter, but looking at him now, on a night like this, it was hard to see the flame that usually burned so bright in his soul.

Sitting there alone in silence, the single light that hung over his head only seemed to be adding to the weight on his shoulders. It's three thirty in the morning and while you're fast asleep, safe and sound in your bed... he's just turning in for another restless night, in a cheap, rundown motel somewhere along some deserted stretch of road. The bottle of whiskey to his left and two empty shot glasses in front of him, he pours himself a drink; the sound of the liquid hitting the glass the only sound filling the room as he looses himself in his thoughts. What Dean keeps to himself on nights like these, is what Castiel can read through him like an open book. With thoughts of a past most would consider a nightmare, of all the lives he was too late to save and all the mistakes he's made along the way continually circling in his head, it's no wonder the young hunter sinks down a little deeper every time he stops to face himself.

As the shower starts up, Castiel watches the other man's eyes drift over to the left, surely focusing on the light seeping out from under the closed bathroom door. Dean lives to make sure his younger brother is safe, but with the Apocalypse looming overhead and fears of what Sam is now capable of, the angel can't help but wonder how much more the young hunter can take.

"Are you going to join me or just stand there and stare at me like a stalker?" Dean suddenly asked, his low voice echoing in the silent room as he poured a second glass of whiskey. Though he could see no one there, he knew he wasn't alone, he hadn't been alone all week. "I know you're here Cas, the light hasn't stopped flickering since I sat down and the EMF reader has been going crazy since Sam and I walked through that door." He continued, taking a glance around the darkened room and watching as the angel stepped out of a corner, his eyes glued to the floor at his feet. "Now, why don't you do like the rest of us and have a seat." Dean said, sliding the shot glass across the table in front of him as Castiel slowly pulled out a chair. "You want to tell me why you've been following us around all week?" He asked, downing his first shot and pouring himself another one.

Castiel's eyes focused on the small glass in front of him before catching those of the man sitting across from him. Though he had managed to keep out of sight while trailing the Winchesters from one hunt to the next, he was surprised to learn that he hadn't been able to do so unnoticed. "I haven't been following you around." He muttered under his breath, knowing his lie wouldn't go far with a man who lied for a living.

"Yeah you have." Dean was quick to reply, leaning forward in his seat as the angel sitting across from him straightened out. "That job back in Scythe, a few days ago, you were there with us Cas... I know you were." He continued, pausing for only a moment as the events of that night played back in his head. "There's no other reason those demons would have taken off that fast, not when they had me where they wanted me..."

"You let those demons get the best of you." Castiel simply started, the sound of his voice barely above the sound of the shower running in the bathroom nearby. "I couldn't just stand there and watch them rip you to shreds."

"Oh, so now you admit that you were there." Dean continued with a nod, his frustration slowly starting to surface. "It's called baiting a trap, Cas... I let them think they're winning and then when all of them are lined up to get a piece of me, Sam comes in and finishes them all off. We had it under control and all of a sudden, you showed up, they scattered and now they're running all over town again."

There was a moment of silence and Castiel couldn't help but swallow hard, Dean's version of the events where quite different than what he had witnessed that night. "I'm concerned about you." He said softly, his voice doing little to lift the young hunter's eyes from the glass of alcohol on the table.

"A lot of people are, Cas." Dean was quick to reply. "In case you haven't noticed, I have a job that constantly puts me in dangerous situations. Sam & Bobby worry about me all the time, but they don't follow me around like I'm..."

"Well maybe they should." The angel suddenly growled, instantly silencing the man sitting across from him. "The risks you're willing to take these days..." Castiel trailed off as he caught the young hunter's eyes, his mind drifting back to what he had witnessed that night in Scythe. True, Dean's job did tend to put him in harm's way, but what Castiel had seen that nigh, wasn't a selfless man putting his life on the line to save others, it was a hopeless man caught between the demons in front of him and those reeking havoc inside his head. "Sam and Bobby might not be aware of what's really going on with you, but I am..." Castiel continued. "I can see inside of you, Dean. I know how you feel and if you keep throwing yourself in front of the creatures you hunt, hoping that they make your last hunt a respectable one for your brother to look back on, then mark my words I will..."

"I'm tired, Cas." Dean quietly admitted, swallowing the lump in his throat. His gaze drifted off towards a darkened corner of the room only to avoid the blue eyes bearing down on him, the same set of blue eyes that had been trailing his shadow all week.

"Tired of what?" Castiel asked, his voice pulling the young hunter's attention away from the darkness. "I don't understand. What you're doing is careless."

"No, it's reckless... And you can go ahead and tell Bobby & Sam, I really don't care right now." Dean took a deep breath, his heart starting to race as he tried to put it all into words. The persona he presented up front was nothing more than an act, and though he'd learned how to play the part well over the years, those closest to him were starting to see through it; the angel who'd pulled him from Hell, had just made that quite clear. On days like today, where the victims were too late to save and the law was on his heels, even he was left wondering if what he was doing, was worth the price in the end. "I'm tired of everything." The young hunter explained, placing the bottle of whisky down on the table between them as he prepared to face his demons head on. "I know how lame that sounds, but I don't know how else to put it." He continued softly, years of living on the very edge starting to surface in his weary voice. "I'm tired of running and hiding and lying... of being hunting down like a dog. I've spent my entire life saving people and what do I have to show for it? I've got everything from monsters, angels and demons breathing down my neck, and when it's not the supernatural trying to get their hands on me, it's the Cops and the Feds. I can't even spend more than twenty-four hours in the same town... the demons want me dead and if the law had their way I'd be locked up for life." He paused for a moment as he took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his voice from breaking up as years of inner turmoil surfaced all at once. "I'm no saint, but I don't deserve to be treated like this, Cas... I fight to save people and all they see in me is a pathological liar and a career criminal, a good-for-..."

"That's not what I see." Castiel started, his words cutting Dean short. "I see an unsung hero, doing all in his power to help those around him." There was a moment of silence as he watched the other man's eyes drift back down to the bottle on the table between them. "Your life may not be an easy one to live, or a just one for that matter, and you are correct, you don't deserve to be treated the way that you are, but it's no reason to give it all up."

"Didn't you hear me, Cas?" Dean whispered, passing a hand over his face to wipe away the tears that were threatening to fall. "I said I'm tired..." His gaze drifted off towards the closed bathroom door and the light seeping out from under it, as the running shower suddenly stopped.

"Let go of the guilt and you will find the strength that you need, to carry on." Castiel quietly replied. "Dean, you're the one that taught me some things were worth fighting for... well fight for this. You've done remarkable things..."

"Yeah, and I've done some pretty shady stuff too."

"The good you do in life, far outweigh your crimes and your flaws." Castiel continued without missing a beat.

Dean couldn't help but offer a nod as he straightened out in his seat, the renegade angel's words now circling in his head. Maybe it was the reassurance he was looking for, the acknowledgment of his struggles, or maybe he just needed to hear it from someone else. Whatever it was, the weight of the world was no longer bearing down on his shoulders. "Thanks, Cas." He said quietly, a slight smile to the corner of his lips as he caught the angel's eyes.

The pair couldn't help but look over as the bathroom door swung open and Sam stepped out. "Shower's all yours..." The younger man started, pausing mid step as he caught the angel's eyes. "Everything alright?" He asked, his gaze drifting over towards Dean.

"Everything's fine, Sammy." Dean coolly replied, filling the empty shot glass on the table in front of him. "Cas and I, were just about to have a toast." He continued, reaching over to pass the drink to the man now standing at his side.

"Ok, and what exactly are you toasting to?" Sam asked, taking the small glass from his brother's hand as his eyes once again met those of the angel seated at the table.

"The realization that our job sucks, because no matter what we do, we'll always be the underdogs." Dean paused for only a moment as Sam pulled out a chair to join them at the small round table. "A heart of gold doesn't buy us much of anything, let alone the respect we deserve."

"And you're just realizing this now?"

"Here's to all us sinners." Dean declared, raising the bottle as Castiel grabbed the shot glass from the table in front of him. "To all the outlaws and the renegades fighting to save better lives than their own."

Castiel watched as Dean first tapped the bottle to his glass, and then reached over to do the same with Sam. This was the man he'd chosen to follow, and though far from being perfect; it was his determination that set him apart from the rest, and his good intentions that made him a rebel worth following. He lies, cheats and steals, just to get by; he's broken every law in the book and while some mistakes will haunt him for the rest of his life, he carries on, doing what he can not to be seen, though he will never truly blend in. He will be criticized, judged and misunderstood, rarely will he be trusted by anyone but those who owe him their lives. He has more enemies than he does friends and with everything from angels & demons to law officials at his back, still he fights for the lives of all those around him.

Downing the shot Dean had poured him, Castiel couldn't help but wonder what drinking had to do with anything; they drank to celebrate and they drank to drown the thoughts and worries clawing away at their conscious. Watching as the young hunter took a swig of the bottle in his hand and then poured Sam another glass, the angel couldn't help but smile. He didn't understand, but at least he knew the difference... Dean wasn't drinking alone tonight.

~Shugs