If I don't make much sense in this chapter, I apologize profusely right now, but I am almost delirious with over tiredness, but for some reason the Boob Fairy and the Sleep Fairy have been gossiping, and have agreed that neither of them are going to visit me ]'=

Thank you everyone for all the reviews and alerts and favorites [= I'm just sorry I'm suffering from such a horrendous case of writer's block!

Okay, so warnings, violence and borderline psychopathic behavior in this one peepz [=

Dean stared in to Castiel's house with some kind of morbid fascination twisting in his guts at just how much of a dick Luc had yet again proved himself to be. His eyes shifted again from Luc, who looked like he had probably gotten a little carried away with the beverages the night before. Dean's breath caught as he looked back to Castiel, who was frozen on the stairs, staring back at him like a deer in headlights. His massive blue eyes were rimmed with red, his face pale and puffy, and blatantly hung over and he looked like he was holding on to the wall for dear life. That wasn't the worst of it; he was wearing only boxers, and seemed to have absolutely no objection to Luc staring at him in a state of near nudity. Dean's heart began to pump a burning icy sensation through his veins as his mind put together two and two, and he suddenly realized what Luc's shifty behavior over the last handful of days had been about. Sonofabitch.

It felt like forever that he was standing in the door way, clasping on to the door frame as if it were his last life line, his eyes fixed on Castiel as his mind forced itself to imagine Castiel on his knees with those boxers around his ankles as Luc pounded in to him from behind, and his guts twisted again, this time threatening to reject his breakfast there and then.

When he had stumbled in at nearly four that morning after an arduous shift at The Roadhouse – the leather-and-denim clad ruffians had been hoarding in to The Roadhouse all rowdy and over friendly, and amazingly there had only been one brawl that Dean had broken up, otherwise, the crowd had been in a remarkably good cheer. Dean had eaves dropped something to do with 'the end of the freakin world, man' but that could mean anything, right? I mean when Dean had felt like it was the end of the world that day.

August 15th last year. Dean had a day off, and being the perfect husband he always was, he had taken it upon himself to stay home and mow the grass whilst Lisa and Ben were having a day out. It was after treating himself to some Baby Time, and he was standing back admiring his work that he'd heard the squealing tires. The noise had caught his attention, and his eyes shifted from his car to the pedestrian crossing just up the road. There was Lisa, one hand raised, waving to Dean, the other clutching the hand of Ben, who was jumping an imaginary game of hopscotch on the crossing. And there was the Ford pickup. Malcolm Grey was the man behind that wheel. He'd just had a disagreement with his wife and his solution was to down a fifth and go for an angry drive to chill out. A decision that wrote his forseeable future locked up in Sacramento State Prison. Dean had stood there, frozen in time when it happened. Dean's gut clenched as he snapped out of the memory. That had felt like the end of the world.

This felt like the world was ending all over again.

"Cas?" Dean croaked, refusing to allow the tears burning at his eyes to fall. Before he managed to restrain himself, Dean found his fist connecting with Luc's jaw. "You fucking asshole!" Dean grabbed Luc's top and slammed him against the door. "What the fuck have you done?" His voice broke as he screamed abuse at Luc, but he failed to care.

Then it started. Castiel watched on in horror from his doorstep – forgetting his inappropriate attire – as the scene unfolded. He couldn't help but think of the final fight scene in Equilibrium as the men brawled next to his car, and he moved outside to attempt to break them apart, but succeeded only in upsetting his stomach and tripping over his door step, landing hard on the concrete outside and promptly honking up.

"Boys!" A shrill voice floated across the road, but neither of them reacted, both too busy getting in as many punches and counters as they could manage.

Dean froze for a split second as he saw something in Luc's eyes, something cold and dark and sadistic, and it frightened him, it frightened him enough to stumble backwards, away from Luc, tripping over Castiel, who was still preoccupied spewing over the floor, until his back was pressed against the side of Castiel's house. "Luc, back the fuck off, now."

Luc shook his head, that glint in his eyes as he approached Dean. "I told you he's not in to you, Dean,"

Dean's eyes narrowed, and he grappled with Luc's hands as they started to wrap around his throat. "Luc, stop,"

"Nuh uh, Dean boy." Luc's eyes flashed with that sick twist of lust and hatred again. "You know I wanted him,"

Dean began to feel light headed, and he was only vaguely aware of some sort of noise in the background as Luc continued to hiss threats in to his ear.

"You're gonna fucking die, Winchester,"

Dean's arms fell to his sides, heavy and numb, and his vision clouded around the edges as his head was slammed in to the wall once, twice.

"You're gonna fucking die,"

Dean was sure he could hear Castiel shouting his name and he relaxed, a contented smile settling across his face, his eyelids finally drooped shut. All he could think about was seeing his Mom and Dad again.

Castiel pulled himself up just in time to see Carly fall to the ground. He mustered strength from somewhere on high to drag himself to his feet, and he turned to Luc, who still had his hands wrapped around Dean's throat, Dean who was now slumped against the wall of the house at best unconscious, at worst... Castiel didn't want to think about worst. All he wanted to think about was what his Father had taught him, and what he found himself doing, drawing in on all of his rage as his arm wrapped around Luc's throat, wrists interlocking, and he dragged him off Dean – Dean's body? - squeezing, squeezing, ignoring Luc's attempts to hit, bite, scratch or otherwise damage his arms, only squeezing tighter until Luc's body finally began to give in, and he lay limp and unconscious in Castiel's arms.

A shrill scream sounded from behind Castiel, and he whipped his head around to see Carly leaning against his car, one arm protectively around her bump, and the other reaching down between here legs.

Castiel's jaw dropped in horror. He rushed to her side and swept her up in his arms. "It's okay, I'm going to ring an ambulance. You're going to be fine,"

Carly was already hysterical. "I'm not due for another five weeks, what's happening?"

Castiel flitted around the house collecting towels and water whilst still remaining calm enough to give clear instructions down the line to the emergency services.

The blood was rapidly soaking through Carly's dress, and it seemed like she was getting paler by the second. Castiel set about dabbing her face with a damp towel and helping her take small sips of water.

"What's happening to me, Castiel?" Carly sobbed. "I'm losing my baby, aren't I?"

"No." Castiel answered firmly. "You're not," His phone rang in his pocket and he slipped it out, flipped it open and put it to his ear. "Hello." His eyes fixed on the wall, and he felt Carly watching him as his tone darkened. "It's Carly." He dug a finger in his eye as he allowed a pause for Kris' panicked response, "She's going to the hospital, she'll need you there." As he ended the call, the sound of sirens filled the air, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him, and he held Carly in his arms, still dabbing her forehead with the towel. "You're going to be fine; your baby is going to be fine,"

Carly sobbed quietly in reply, holding on to Castiel's arm, and for the second time in his life, Castiel felt his heart break.

"Dean?"

Dean blinked tired, dry eyes as the light assaulted them, and an involuntary rumble escaped from his lips as he licked them and chewed on nothing. "Whose leg do I have to hump to get a drink around here?" His voice was thin and croaky, and he quickly cleared his throat and swallowed. His eyes caught sight of movement, and switched to it, eventually focusing on the form next to him. "Cas?"

Castiel's face morphed in to a gracious smile, "Sam and Bobby are on their way," He reached out to Dean's hand. "How are you feeling?" He offered the plastic cup of water to Dean and helped him take a sip.

"Like crap," Dean pulled Castiel's hand on to his lap and started stroking it gently, dropping his gaze to the end of the bed as a half uneasy silence settled upon them.

It was a few minutes before Castiel noticed the tears rolling down Dean's cheeks. He didn't pass comment. He just watched as Dean's fingers traced patterns on his skin for a while, before closing his eyes and dropping his head on to Dean's bed. He wouldn't let Dean know that his own tears were falling as he began drifting to sleep.

Ohhhhhh deary me what horrific Writers Block! I just couldn't get this out! Sorry people ]= I think chest infections make it worse =s Boooo. Sorry it's a dooty one =s

Thank you again for reviews and alerts everyon Love to you all x x x