Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Inspired by episode 8.16, and also by the awesome girl I beta for, Maknatuna, who writes so much cool Destiel that I wrote a little one myself. =]

Probably could be rated K, since there isn't anything inappropriate, but I just wanted to be safe.

It was dark, and it was cold. That was really all Castiel had known for a long time now. The walls and floor were cement, he knew that too. And that there was a leak in the ceiling in the opposite corner, and it just went drip drip drrrrip all day and night long. It was enough to drive a man crazy.

A man, Castiel scoffed internally. If only he were just a man. Sometimes, he felt that he was, but it was times like this that he knew that was not true. Sometimes, he truly wished he was.

A few years ago, this would not have been true. He only was able to see man from afar, from up in Heaven. He knew his father loved humans, so that meant they must not have been so horrible, but they certainly seemed to be, watching from above.

And that was when Dean Winchester broke the first seal. "And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break." And Dean did indeed break. Dean Winchester was flawed. He was broken.

But he was righteous. That was true. And he was strong, for a human at least. Even in those first moments, when Castiel reached down and raised his soul from perdition, he could feel these things in Dean. There was darkness, but there was also so much light. Castiel was intrigued even then.

And he hadn't meant to get to know Dean Winchester, nor his brother Sam. But it happened, and he quickly found that he cared about them. Sure, Dean had tortured souls in Hell and Sam was addicted to drinking demon blood, but still they were good men. Sometimes they were petty, and sometimes they were selfish, but still Castiel cared for them both. They were his friends. And somehow, they learned to care for him too. And Castiel had a family in Heaven, but somehow the Winchester boys felt more like family to him than any of the angels ever did. It was funny, because angels were supposed to be the forgiving ones. The servants of the Lord, The Forgiver Himself. But when Castiel made mistakes—which he did often—it was the Winchesters who forgave him each time. It was the Winchesters who seemed able to love him unconditionally when his own brothers could not.

It had just been the three of them as friends, and Castiel had been fine with that. Team Free Will. But Castiel found there were stirrings inside of him, ones that he did not understand and that scared him. All he really knew was that whatever these stirrings were, it was Dean's fault. His stomach did flips whenever he saw the human. When he spoke, Castiel hung on his every word, because somehow the words Dean said sounded like poetry, or maybe a song. Castiel never got tired of listening to the cadence of Dean's deep growl of a voice, and secretly thought Dean was rather funny. And when Dean hurt, Castiel hurt, even when he had not been with Dean at all, when he had been in Heaven. Or even when Castiel was hurting himself, the only thing he could feel was Dean's pain. It was so much worse than feeling his own. He found himself staring at the man, even when he had already memorized every contour of his face, the exact shape of his torso and his arms and his legs, still he stared, marveling at the form that he knew so well. It was so beautiful. He had never seen God, but he knew that man was made in his image. Castiel started to wonder absently if Dean was made in God's image more than any other human, because how was it really possible for a man, just a flawed human, to be built with such immaculate perfection as this?

Even in this dark cell that Naomi had him trapped in, he would think of Dean. He would picture him, just hoping he still remembered everything about him, because Castiel couldn't be sure he would ever see Dean again.

Even now, Castiel had trouble sorting out exactly how he felt about the human. Because it just seemed so immoral. Dean was a human, Castiel was an angel. They were both men. It was wrong.

But somehow, it still felt so, so right.

Castiel was pondering these things when the voice came to his mind, and his head snapped up, his eyes wide, searching through the dark. The room was still empty. But he had heard the voice. And he knew that voice, knew it better than his own. Maybe he had imagined it—the solitude was finally driving him truly mad—but then he was absolutely, positively sure he had heard it.

"Cas, you got your ears on?"

Castiel swallowed and stood up. Dean was praying to him. Dean, the most faithless man Castiel had ever seen, was praying. To him.

"Dean," he choked, the words coming out incomprehensibly since it had been so long since he spoke last. And a small smile came to his stiff lips—it might have looked like a grimace, since Castiel felt he had forgotten how to smile. Dean still had faith that Castiel might be able to hear him. Dean had not given up on him.

Castiel's legs felt about ready to give out after standing that long, but he still stood, listening as Dean continued.

"Listen, you know I'm not one for praying, 'cause in my book it's... it's the same as begging. But this is about Sam, so I need you to hear me."

"I can hear you, Dean!" Castiel said desperately. And what was wrong with Sam? Castiel felt out of the loop and it made him frustrated. "Dean, what's wrong with Sam?"

Dean, of course, could not hear and just continued to speak.

"We're going into this deal blind... and I don't know what's ahead."

"Yes, neither do I," Castiel said irritably. What was he doing locked in this cell when the Winchesters needed him? He went over to the door. "Please, I have to get out!" Castiel bellowed. He knew there was no use, but still he was panicking. Dean needed him. Sam needed him.

"Or what it's gonna bring for Sam," Dean continued, the voice hollowly echoing in Castiel's borrowed skull. "Now, he's covering pretty good, but I know that he's hurting, and this one was supposed to be on me."

"You think everything is supposed to be on you," Castiel grumbled, before yelling out the door once more, "They need me! Please!"

"So, for all that we've been through, I'm asking you... you keep a look out for my little brother, okay?" Dean finished his prayer with an emptiness in his voice, like he didn't think Castiel could really hear him.

And Castiel really did feel he was losing his mind, because he only noticed mildly that he was still yelling through the door. "Dean! Dean, I can hear you!" Castiel kicked the wall, falling like a sack of potatoes on the ground again with his face in his hands. He sat like that for a long while, not knowing what to do. He was powerless here. "God," Castiel murmured. "Father. I need you to help Sam. And I need you to help Dean too, because he's hurting because Sam is. I can't do anything, not from here. I can't—I—" It took Castiel a moment to breathe again, and he felt like he might cry. Angels weren't supposed to cry. Maybe he really was human. "Father, I am begging you. Help the Winchesters. Because they deserve it. You know they do."

There was, as always, no response, and Castiel shut his eyes tight. "Dean, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He tucked his knees in, hugging them tightly to his chest. Maybe Dean was half expecting Castiel to appear in the room with him. But he wasn't there, and even now Dean was probably sitting there, hope draining from his face, starting to believe Castiel was gone for good. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

Then his head flashed up, his eyes snapping open. He couldn't give up, not now. Not when Dean needed him. He had been ready to give up, to just give in to his fate, but now he couldn't. Whatever fire in Castiel's soul that had been dying away started afresh because of Dean's prayer.

"I'll come to you, Dean," he said, as if Dean could hear. "I promise you, I'll come to you."

Thanks for reading. Now please, take a few moments to leave me a review. Reviews are the catalyst for me writing more, so if you like it, let me know. And if you hate it, tell me that too! Or just about your day, I don't care! I just want to hear from my readers! Thank you!