Castiel looked up from his scrawl of writing across the log book balanced on his lap, a tall shadow blocking the light outside his tent. He tossed the book onto the floor beside him and pushed up onto his feet, stepping over the crates of ammunition and supplies that crowded the small space as he headed to pull back the door of the tent.

"Winchester?" He stopped short as his brain registered the recruit standing nervously outside his doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir, I was just wandering if I could, uh..." The recruit shifted nervously on his feet, "...Do you have a minute?"

Castiel stared at the young man, not quite knowing what to make of the sudden absence of ego and conceit that usually surrounded the recruit. He stepped aside, allowing Dean to step into his tent.

He eyed the young soldier as he stopped just inside the cramped space, the tent just high enough to accommodate his height. Castiel stepped around him and resumed his seated position on the floor, motioning for Dean to sit down.

He waited as the young man lowered himself to the ground, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he avoided Castiel's gaze.

"I just wanted to..." He began, his eyes darting around the tent. "Uh, I...I thought I should..."

Castiel's brows furrowed as the boy sighed heavily, his struggle for words written all over his face. He brought his hand up to scrub at his hair and rub at his mouth, clearly frustrated and awkward as hell as his attempt to communicate crashed and burned.

It was bordering on unsettling, seeing the young soldier reduced to this, so far from his usual presence of complete confidence. Whatever it was that he was trying to say, Castiel whole heartedly believed that it was important that he get the chance to say it. But there was no way that was happening right now, not with Dean in the state he was in.

Castiel broke into the heavy silence between them, his voice grave and commanding in the small space. "You will be out of your tent tomorrow at oh-five-hundred hours, and you will meet me here."

Dean paled as his eyes finally met with his superior's, the faintest trace of dread clouding his expression.

"Yes, Sir."

Castiel nodded, reaching for his long book and settling it in his lap once again. He glanced up at Dean who remained frozen on the spot, eyeing him warily, unsure of what was expected of him in that moment.

"You're dismissed, Winchester."

He watched the recruit as his expression shifted through the realisation that the conversation was over, that he was going to have to wait until tomorrow for the resolution of whatever it was he had come to him for. Dean nodded, hastily stumbling to his feet and ducking out of the door with a mumbled "Sir."

Castiel sighed, pausing with his pen over the page. He could not for the life of him justify to himself why he felt so strongly compelled to resolve whatever it was that was afflicting his recruit. Hell, every damn one of them had a screw loose in some capacity, and not once had he ever taken their issues upon himself. Everyone had their battles, inward and otherwise. It wasn't his domain to play camp counsellor. But there was something in him that told him whatever was going on with Dean, if and when he found out what that was, would not be entirely unfamiliar to him.

He filled in the rest of the day's entry into the log book, his mind only half on the task at hand. He did not know what he would say to Dean in the morning, or if he would even say anything at all. But the young recruit needed to know that he had the space to vent, regardless of whether or not he chose to take advantage of that.

Castiel finished with the necessary paper work for the evening, making a conscious effort to put thoughts of Dean out of his mind. He had lost enough sleep these last few nights over thoughts of the young man, and he was starting to feel the effects of it. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would sort this out. He would put right, to the full extent of his abilities, whatever was afflicting his recruit, and then they could move forward.

And as he readied himself to turn in for the evening, he almost believed it.


Shit. This is it.

Dean's stomach turned somersaults as he stumbled in the early morning frost towards Officer Novak's tent, his mind frantically churning out the same thoughts that had kept him up for the entire night beforehand.

I've blown it. I've pissed him off for the last time. And now...Novak is going take me into the woods... And kill me.

He rubbed his hands together in a vigorous attempt to generate heat as he came to a stop outside his commanding officer's tent, fidgeting on the spot as he waited. It was a little before five, but he had been too keyed up, and just too damn afraid of what was about to go down to just sit in his tent and wait.

Dean glanced up as a rustling sound broke into the stillness of the morning and Novak emerged from his tent.

"Sir." Dean addressed his superior, planting his feet and holding his head high against every instinct in his body that screamed at him to duck and run.

Novak nodded a silent greeting at him, glancing off into the woods.

"This way." He turned to head away from the camp site, glancing back at Dean as he slowly took up pursuit of his leader.

They walked in silence, Dean a few paces behind as they began a slow trek further up the side of the mountain, weaving in and out of trees, crushing damp leaves underfoot and breathing in the scent of the morning. The sun slowly crept over the horizon, a dim glow building amongst the trees and dappling the dewy forest floor.

Dean listened intently to the sounds of the new day, of the woods waking up around him as he was lead further and further away from the small piece of civilisation they had created.

He fervently stifled the voice in his head that assured him that they were far enough out now that only the birds would hear him scream, as Novak came to a stop, glancing around them at the utter solitude.

Dean's heart beat kicked up a notch as his superior took a few steps towards him, meeting his gaze head on.

For what felt like a lifetime, he did not speak. He did not move, nor did he shift his gaze. He just...stood there. Staring. Waiting.

Dean shifted on his feet, desperately trying to quell the tremors that were building in his muscles. His lungs felt as though they had shrivelled under the weight of Novak's gaze, as he tried, and failed, to draw in a full breath. He dropped his gaze to the ground, unable to hold it a second longer against the weight pressing on his chest. His heart was racing as he grappled for something to say, some way to break the almost palpable tension that hung between them.

"When I was nineteen, I shot a young woman in the heart."

Dean's head snapped up as Novak's voice broke through the heavy silence. He glanced at Dean as he rested his weight against the weathered trunk of an ancient tree, returning his gaze back to the ground.

"I killed her child too."

Dean's entire body froze as he watched the play of emotions on the older man's face as he continued to speak.

"They had nothing to do with the raid we were on. Weren't even in the way. But those were the orders. Kill them all."

He glanced up at Dean, something deeply buried and indiscernible flashing behind his eyes.

"I still see her. Still dream about her, begging for her life. I don't think I'll ever get that image out of my mind."

Dean nodded, the only response he could manage as he held his gaze.

"It's a strange kind of power, that of a soldier. You're given orders, permission to take life from even those completely removed from the conflict at hand. But that day, the day I killed that woman, it wasn't just about doing the job."

Castiel's breath shook slightly as he exhaled.

"I did it because I needed proof that I was capable. That I wasn't worthless, useless. I killed an innocent woman and her child to validate myself, to silence the echoes of my past that told me I could never be good for anything. And I have carried it with me ever since."

Dean swallowed hard, grasping at the edges of the information Novak had poured out into the quietude, something in him completely certain that there was a message in there somewhere, if he could manage to sift it out.

Castiel stepped forward, nailing Dean with a weighted stare that, in an instant, froze all of his thought processes as he offered up the words Dean had spent his whole life believing he would never hear.

"You are better than that."

Dean's stare faltered as he felt something within him shift, ever so slightly.

"I know what it's like," Castiel's voice was a rough murmur, "Waking up with the knowledge that you can't go back. When your every waking moment is tinged with regret and failure and guilt, riding you until you feel like all there is, is hate...But if you can't learn to curb that, Dean, it's gonna kill you. And then everything that you have been through, every single painfully significant inch of Hell that you have walked through to get here, is worth nothing."

Dean's lungs burned as he held all his breath inside his body, desperately trying to hold back the fierce rush of nameless emotion that Novak's words incited within him.

"Yes, Sir." His hoarse reply was barely more than a whisper. "I understand."

He kicked at a twig lying near foot, scuffing it along the ground.

"I, uh...I know I've been given a lot of chances..."

"And you deserved every one of them." Novak interrupted, his voice holding no trace of uncertainty.

"God knows you piss me off, Winchester, but if you don't deserve to be here, no one does."

Dean nodded, void of response other than the slight assent of his head, still only half able to believe the conversation was not going to head south and involve a pistol.

"Okay," Novak glanced at his watch, his face resuming its usual mask of detached composure. "We need to head back."

Dean took in the shards of sunlight that were spotting the forest floor, realising with a start that more than an hour must have passed. He fell in beside Novak as they began their descent back toward base, walking side by side in silence.

Dean breathed deeply as they closed in on the camp site, pausing just out of view to address his commanding officer.

"...Sir?"

Novak halted, turning to look back at his recruit.

"Yeah?"

"...Can we walk again tomorrow?"

Dean watched Novak's face carefully as he stared back at him.

"...Yes," Castiel nodded, "...We can."