Spoilers: General season five.
Slash: Extremely mild.
Castiel sat.
He was still and silent in the deceptively quiet bedroom.
All around him he could hear the pulses of souls crying out into the night. He had not known that Earth would be like this, a constant torment on his senses. He had found that there was only one thing that would soothe his aches.
Dean Winchester was a righteous man, for all his Earthly pleasures, a strong man. His soul lit the dark night with the brightest throb of light that Castiel had ever laid eyes on.
In hell, he had been a beacon, shining amidst the darkness, tarnished and twisted, yet more vivid than any of the condemned souls newly dragged down to perdition.
When he had received his orders, Castiel had feared. What man, however righteous he may be could be brought back from hell onto an Earth torn with human despair and suffering and thrive to become not a demon, but a savior of men.
Then Castiel had seen Dean Winchester's soul and he had feared no more.
So when the anguish of the world became too much for him, and Heaven offered no sanctuary, casting him into the depths of sorrow and pain, Castiel came to Dean.
Many times, Dean did not realize it was happening, as Castiel flitted, silent among the shadows of the Earth, an unvoiced observer. The man's dreams were visited even more frequently. When he chose to, Castiel allowed Dean to know of his presence.
This was not one of those times.
He walked as a shade does, his existence in the dream nothing more than a thought one could not grasp.
Castiel saw Dean Winchester in a room much like the one his body was currently residing in, cramped and painted bright.
He was sitting across from his brother, but this Sam was young, innocent as he no longer was nor could ever be again.
Young Sam was reaching across the bed to hand Dean a chord with a dangling gold pendant when a chasm opened in the ground and hellfire rose and pulled the young Winchester down screaming in surprise and terror.
Yet before Dean could reach him the chasm closed tight and all he could do was grab madly at the singed carpet, burning his fingers with the residual heat.
Castiel decided it was time to intervene.
He came out of the shadows and crouched before the crying man, raising his hand to rest it over Dean's eyes. Slowly, the image around them faded to a dirty garage filled with an imposing black car, the Impala, Castiel recalled. A gruff man worked diligently under the hood, pausing only to stick his hand out and demand, "Wrench."
This was a cherished memory, contentment seeped from the edges of this reality.
With a thought, Castiel removed the traces of the previous dream and took his hand away as he faded back into the world, leaving Dean to be with his reminiscence.
When he came back to himself in his borrowed body, his being felt more at ease with the good that he had done.
Around him, the soul of Dean Winchester pulsed, shining just a bit brighter than before.
