A/N: This is a fluff chapter because I got bored with the actual storyline and I can do what I want lmao.

Ten

Brooke and Castiel could only take so many stressful, research-filled days, worrying about Dean and the Mark, before they needed a break. Even Castiel, an angel who required no sleep or food, had a mental breaking point, so they decided to take the day off from doing anything, bar an emergency call from the Winchesters. They stayed in the motel room, lounging around and talking, which gave Brooke the idea of asking her husband questions that she knew the answer to somewhere in her brain, because she was telepathically connected to him, but had never actually thought about, consciously.

"Okay," she said, laying on her back on the bed, with her knees up. "I know green's your favorite color—even though I still think blue makes more sense—

He smiled—

"But… let's see. What's your favorite animal?"

He hesitated, laying beside her in the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Am I allowed to say humans?"

She laughed. "No."

He hummed. "Perhaps elephants, then? They're very intelligent, you know. And they have great emotional capacity. Or maybe octopi, for the same reason."

Brooke smiled as she stared up at nothing.

"And yours?" he asked.

"Cats, because I'm boring."

"You're not boring. I like cats, too."

Brooke laughed. "Okay, what else…?" She pursed her lips, thinking. "Favorite smell?"

"Mmmm," he said, drawing out the sound as he thought about it. "That's difficult because it's a sense, and most sensory things, for me, are overwhelming, as you know."

"Pick a scent you liked when you were human, then."

"The smell of coffee," he said.

"Oh, yeah," she replied, grinning. "I agree with you, there." She took a breath. "Something you miss about being human?"

"Eating."

"Something you hated about being human?"

"Defecating."

She barked a laugh. "Yeah, I don't think anyone enjoys pooping." She rolled onto her side to face him. "I just realized, you basically experience going to the bathroom second-hand through me, every time I go, because we're mentally connected." She made a face. "That's gross. I'm sorry." Then she laughed.

Castiel snorted in amusement, turning his head to look at her. "I got used to that many years ago."

Brooke fell silent for a moment, touching her husband's face. Then, she asked, quietly, "Something you miss about being an angel a long, long time ago, before you ever knew me, or the Winchesters, or that God had left Heaven…?"

He took a deep breath, and she could feel his mind expand far beyond what it normally did, these days. He had gone back hundreds—thousands—of years. "There was this feeling I had," he said, slowly, "of knowing, with utter certainty, that whatever I was doing, it was the right thing, because the order—whatever it was—came from God. That made it right. I… believed, completely, in my Father. And that faith gave me boundless self-confidence." He fell silent for a moment, before saying, "I just miss the simplicity of… not knowing any better."

"Ignorance is bliss," Brooke said.

"Yes."

She nodded and spent a minute or so saying nothing, playing with Castiel's hair, running her fingers through it. After giving him a chance to collect himself, she asked, "What do you do all night while I'm sleeping? Don't you get bored?" She remembered watching him while he slept when he had been human, but she had only done that for a few minutes at a time before drifting off, herself. She couldn't imagine willingly laying in bed for hours on end, literally incapable of sleep, yet doing nothing to keep herself occupied.

"Oh, I'm never bored at night like that," Castiel said, reading her mind. "I'm an angel. My mind goes a million miles an hour—figuratively speaking, of course. Besides, most often, I'm watching over you while you sleep, watching your dreams—

"You really are a creepy stalker," Brooke joked, laughing.

Castiel made a face. "It's not like that. I… I protect you from nightmares."

Brooke stared at him.

He smiled a little. "You must have noticed that, when I'm with you, you don't have nightmares…"

She thought about it, realizing that he was right. Since regaining his angel powers, Brooke could not recall the last time she'd had a nightmare as long as she slept near him. She curled up against him, laying her head on his chest. Are guardian angels a thing? she asked, switching to telepathy because that always felt more intimate than speech.

Not in the way you're thinking, he replied, wrapping his arms around her. Technically, all angels are guardians of humans—or they're supposed to be. But each human doesn't have one specific angel watching over them. Even before everything that's happened, there have always been far fewer angels to humans, so it's a joint effort.

Clearly, though, some angels take a special interest in a certain human… or humans. Brooke smiled, thinking of herself and the Winchesters.

Yes, well, said Castiel, chuckling, I was never supposed to get so close to my charges, and I was punished for it, if you'll recall.

I'd rather not.

A small silence fell as they each contemplated things long past—their desperate fight to stop the Apocalypse, the beginning of their relationship…

The beginnings of a question slowly rose in Castiel's mind as the silence lingered.

What is it? Brooke asked.

I was thinking that you're the only human I know who calls me by my full name more than you call me Cass. Sam and Dean hardly ever say my full name, and neither did Bobby. And Meg—well, she wasn't human, but she only called me Clarence. He smiled at the memory of their favorite demon.

I've never thought about why I call you Castiel more than Cass, Brooke admitted. It's just something I've always done. If I had to give you an answer, I guess I'd say that being able to see you, the real you, the angelic you, probably has something to do with it. Sam and Dean, and the other humans you've known, call you Cass to humanize you, to make you more familiar to them, because all they see when they look at you is your vessel. Brooke lifted her head up off of his chest and smiled down at him. Of course, I call you Cass for the same reason, she said. Usually when I'm joking with you, or the mood around us is lighthearted, in general. But… I've never had a hard time accepting that you're an angel, and I'm the only human you know who can see that side of you all the time, whether you're using any powers or not. I never forget what you are, and I don't shy away from it. You're an angel; you're not a human. And I love you. And I call you Castiel to remind you that being an angel isn't a bad thing just because a lot of your brothers and sister kinda suck. I know, sometimes, you hate what you are. So I just… try my best to get you to see the good in you. Angel and all.

Castiel stared up at her for a time, his eyes soft and crinkled in the corners.

Not wanting this to become too much of an emotional affair, she followed up with, "Besides, you make me say your full name during sex, so I think you just like it."

He smirked, looking away for a moment, and then pulled her down for a kiss. You bet your ass I like it, he said.

She broke away from the kiss, devolving into a fit of giggles.

###

A little while later, Brooke asked, "So, are there, like, baby angels? Or are you fully-formed at the start?"

Castiel turned his head to stare at her for a moment, blinking multiple times in quick succession at the thought of baby angels. "We're fully-formed from the beginning."

"That's boring," she said. "I like picturing you as this tiny version of yourself, learning to fly for the first time, or something."

He smiled indulgently at her, rolling over in the bed to face her, and propping himself up on one elbow. "What else would you imagine a small version of me doing?"

She thought about it. "I dunno. Going to Earth for the first time and staring at everything like a kid at Disneyland. Look at that tree! Look at this bug! Very excitable. Very adorable." She looked at him to see him still smiling.

"I was sort of like that, for a while," he admitted. "Enamored with Earth, with the beauty of it. Fascinated by humans. Of course, after watching you for hundreds of years, eventually the novelty wore off."

She smirked at him. "Could you watch me for hundreds of years?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, his voice gone soft, and a little sensual.

"Okay, wait, wait," Brooke said, sitting up. "Before we fuck, which seems to be where this is headed, I have a question."

Castiel inclined his head at her, waiting.

"So, if you've always thought that humans were God's greatest creation, and you've never given up on your first mission—to watch over us all—why were you such an asshole when you first came down here to stop the Apocalypse?"

Castiel blinked rapidly again.

"Oh, come on," Brooke said, laughing. "You can't claim to be a shepherd for humans and then turn and around and tell Dean, You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell, I can throw you back in." She laughed. "What were you gonna do? Fling one of your precious humans off a cliff, back into the Pit?"

He glanced, abashed, down at the bed. "As I said, after hundreds of years of watching humanity, I grew bored with it all, but also angry. You waste so much time and energy killing each other, stealing from one another… Sinning. I suppose I became disillusioned at some point, so by the time I had to come down to save Dean, to stop the Apocalypse, I was a little self-righteous, thinking I was going to save all these petty little humans, thinking they wouldn't even know, wouldn't be grateful."

Brooke smirked at him. "You come down, thinking humans are all sinners, and then what do you do? See a pretty girl who worships you like a God, and fall into sin, yourself."

"You helped remind me," Castiel said, taking her face in his hands. "You reminded me what my original mission was—what it had always been. Sam and Dean reminded me, too, but you were the first. You placed so much faith in me, faith that the Winchesters didn't have in me for a long time, and I… I knew I couldn't disappoint you. You thought so highly of me that it humbled me. I realized that I had lost my way, and you helped me find myself, again." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, and murmured, "Thank you."

She sat with him, like that, for a time, relishing in the closeness of him, the emotional vulnerability that he had always had with her.

Then she said, huskily, "I know a couple ways you could thank me."

He pulled away just far enough to look into her eyes. "Entreat me," he said.

A slow smile spread across her face. She lay down, still looking at him, but when he began to move over her, she shook her head, pushing against his shoulder, pushing him down her body, down past her breasts, her stomach, until he was settled between her legs. He stared up at her from there, his eyes intense and hungry, and slowly pulled her out of her Jeans.