Dean laid awake in bed, mind muddled with all sorts of thoughts. Sam snored softly next to him. He didn't usually snore, only when he slept on his stomach, which he was currently doing. Dean frowned, and sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. Why couldn't he sleep? Usually he'd just throw one of Sammy's shoes at him, but the snoring wasn't what was keeping him up. He pushed a palm into his forehead. Not like his forehead was jello or anything, that'd be weird. But he had a headache, so he attempted to gently massage some of the pain out. Listen to him. Gently? Massage? Oh man, Sammy's deadly Pansy Disease was turning contagious. He looked up, and suddenly his clouded head became clear. He knew why, almost instantly, mostly because the de-clouding was accompanied by the rustle of feathers. Castiel sat at the edge of the bed.

"You called?"

Dean scoffed, putting on the tough guy act. His head throbbed gently as he did.

"Why would I call you? It's just a little snoring. I've handled worse."

Instantly, almost without moving, Castiel was next to him, staring into his eyes. They were blue. Oddly blue. Dean jumped a little. Wait, no he didn't! Damnit Sammy! He fidgeted a little, curling his toes under his blanket. How did Castiel do that? Was this one of those dreams? He pinched himself.

"This isn't a dream, if you were wondering."

Dean looked up. Time for plan D: Distract.

"Hey Cas? That vessel you stole—"

"He asked for this, you know that."

"—What did he do? Before you snatched him?"

Castiel paused, and then looked down at his hands. He rubbed the calluses with the other hand.

"I'm told he caught criminals. What you do for hellspawn, he would do for humans beyond redemption."

Dean was surprised.

"A detective eh? I guess you do look the part. But there's just this one thing."

He leaned over, and pulled Castiel's tie off. He cocked his head, obviously confused.

"Is this another reference I don't understand?"

Dean snorted, and then slowly, as if trying to remember something foggy, began to retie the tie.

"It was backwards."

…. That wasn't good enough Dean.

"You already look like you hauled yourself out of a damned dumpster, the least you can do is have your tie on right."

He tried to concentrate. His dad used to do this every morning before… Dean's memory fogged up. He growled, and his hands stopped. Castiel sensed his mental turmoil, and gently tapped his forehead with a finger, and instantly Dean's memories cleared. Within seconds, Dean finished the knot, and snuggled it right under Castiel's adams apple.

"So like, can all Angels do that?"

Dean raked his hair with a hand. Castiel stayed motionless. Except for his mouth. Because he was speaking.

"Do what?"

Dean waved his arms about, trying to explain in the best way possible. The end result was a copy of Castiel's earlier movement.

"Oh, that?"

Dean nodded, and so did Castiel.

"All angels can bring memories back. It's one of our newer abilities, but one we exercise frequently in judging the sins of man. Now, Dean, let's get down to why you called me."

Dean frowned.

"I didn't call you Cas. I just couldn't sleep."

"Is nightmare free sleep what you desire?"

Damn, he knew about the nightmares too?

"Cursing isn't going to help your position Dean."

"Oh what, you read minds now?"

"No, I have always had the ability to read human thoughts."

Dean looked down, at the floor of the wacky hotel room they were in. The rug was just as wacky, with all sorts of psychedelic colors. Castiel leaned forward, and pressed a hand on his forehead.

"You want to sleep, don't you?"

Dean sighed. No use in being a tough guy any longer, it wouldn't work on Cas.

"Yeah. Just one night would be fantastic."

Castiel's hand dropped, sliding over Dean's eyes, which closed as they did, and Dean slowly fell back onto the pillow in a deep sleep. Castiel stood and pulled the blankets under Dean's chin, Dean was peaceful in his sleep, knowing an angel was watching over him.