Dean did his best to remain as calm as possible. "Hey, Cas...having fun smiting people?"

Cas did not look amused. He drew his brows together and leaned in close enough to Dean's face that he felt Cas's breath on his nose. Under normal circumstances he might have found it extremely hot, but Cas looked scary as fuck. He tried to wiggle away, but once Cas growled at him, he stopped.

"You are an idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas hissed.

"Thanks, buddy."

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Sam let out a loud groan. Cas immediately let go of his shirt, and went to check on him. Luckily, Sam escaped with only minor cuts and bruises, and he was up on his feet in a few seconds. Dean tried to take a breath, but doubled over when he felt a sharp pain in his ribs.

Cas must have seen him, because a few seconds later there was a gentle warmth on his back and the pain faded.

"Why didn't you call me? You both could have been killed!" Cas demanded.

"I wanted to," Sam snapped, "But Dean wouldn't let me."

If Cas had been mad before, Dean didn't know even know what to call this emotion. Perhaps "Angel on the Verge of Smiting Everyone" or "Death is Coming" were fitting titles. Either way, Dean felt there a a slight possibility Cas was going to kill him where he stood.

"Do you have a deep desire to die, Dean Winchester?" Cas growled.

"No, I just thought we could handle it ourselves."

"You thought you could single handedly kill fourteen vampires? I believe you've taken too many blows to the head."

"Don't you have something better to do than lecture me? Maybe playing the harp or something." Dean growled.

Cas latched onto Dean's collar and slammed him against the wall, again. Dean groaned. I really need to learn not to piss off angels.

"I do not understand why you are so angry with me, Dean Winchester," he hissed, "But whatever issue you have with me does not excuse endangering your life."

Dean sensed that his only option was to silently nod-and he did. Cas let go of him, but kept staring at Dean like he was going to disappear. Dean tried to ignore it and simply picked up his machete from the ground. He expected Cas to leave, but he stayed glued to Dean's side. Dean tried to say something to Sam, but once Szam whipped around and glared at him, he shut his mouth.

Not a word was uttered on the way back to the Impala. The tension made Dean feel like someone was trying to smother him with a blanket covered in ants. Sam refused to say anything on the drive back, while Cas just stared at Dean from the backseat. It was highly unsettling.

Dean realized he would never survive more than ten minutes, let alone an hour, in the car. As soon as he spotted a motel, he swerved the car across two lanes (which were thankfully empty) and into the parking lot. Sam cursed at him as he was slammed against the passenger door, but Dean ignored him. After all, Sam probably deserved some form of punishment for the shit he'd put Dean through the last few days.

"We're staying here until tomorrow morning. Go to the library or a vegan cafe, I don't give a fuck. Just leave me alone," Dean snapped.

Sam was out the door before the Impala even came to a complete stop. Dean figured Cas would just naturally go away, so he simply walked into the office to reserve a room. Some part of him was tempted just to leave both Sam and Cas behind and drive somewhere else, but he resisted. Instead, he thought he'd probably find something to eat, and then steal Sam's laptop.

He was not anticipating Cas to be sitting on the motel bed when he opened the door. At first, he just blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Once the initial shock wore off, anger started to replace it. He wanted alone time to be away from Cas.

"What are you doing here?" Dean demanded.

"You've made it clear you are incapable of taking care of yourself. So I'm here to 'babysit' you, as they say."

Dean just stared at Cas in a mix of shock and horror. He's fucking joking right? Except Cas did not have a sense of humor, and sarcasm usually just went over his head. He was being fucking serious.

"What the hell? I don't need any goddamn babysitter! The hunt went wrong, it happens!"

"Not like that it doesn't. You intentionally endangered your life and Sam's. You were reckless"

"I can be reckless if I want!"

Cas stepped forward, and Dean figured he was about five seconds from being punched in the face. He was actually surprised when Cas simply stared at him. Except the way Cas was staring at him, made Dean wish that Cas would just punch him instead.

Cas didn't look angry or upset, and it would have been a hell of a lot better if he did. Cas tilted his head like he was studying Dean. His eyes drifted up and down until they finally locked on Dean's eyes. They were so fucking blue, that all Dean wanted to do was run...or kiss him. Both worked.

Stop, stop, stop! Dean forced himself to look away. Cas needed to stop doing this stuff to him. He went down that road once, and did not need a repeat.

"Could you just leave me alone, Cas? I just can't right now."

Dean really couldn't help how defeated he sounded, no matter how hard he tried. He needed time recoup, and not feel the need to kill Sam and Cas every minute of the day. Maybe he should just go find a sleazy bar and fuck a girl. That would end any lingering emotions.

"Are you angry with me, Dean?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You sound angry."

"Well, I'm not goddamn it!"

Cas blinked and sat down on the motel bed, not breaking eye contact with Dean. He realized that Cas sadly wasn't going to move. Fine, I'll just leave then. Not like you can stop me, Dean thought. He turned on his heels and out the door. In his mind he knew walking away from an angel like he was a child was probably not the smartest idea, but that never stopped him before.

Dean sighed in relief when he began driving, and Cas didn't magically appear in the passenger seat. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, he just drove. The buildings of the town eventually turned into trees, and the trees into grass.

He tried not to think about Sam or Cas or anything else. After a while, he felt completely relaxed. Sure, his personal life was kind of in shambles, but he could ignore Sam for a while (every healthy relationship needed a couple 'fuck off' moments). And he could get used to being around Cas like old times. He could. Yea.

When Dean realized it was almost four o'clock, he turned the car around. He was getting hungry, and he didn't want Sam to think he'd up and abandoned him. At this point he didn't really think Sam would care, but they had to face each other some time.

The light from their motel room was on when Dean got back. He opened the door expecting to hear Sam berating him at any moment. Instead, it was silent.

Cas was sitting on the bed reading a book. His trench coat was neatly folded on the table, and his shoes were sitting by the door. The whole scene looked so domestic that Dean wanted to puke.

"Sam has not returned. I believe he is at the bar a few blocks away."

Dean nodded, too stunned to do anything else.

"Dean, I believe we should talk."

That snapped Dean right out of his trance. There will be no talking. Ever.

"We have nothing to talk about, Cas."

"You cannot avoid me forever, Dean Winchester."

"I'm not avoiding you! I just don't feel like having a fucking therapy session all right?"

Cas narrowed his eyes like he was going to say something, but appeared to decide against it. He slowly grabbed his trenchcoat from the chair, and his shoes magically appeared on his feet. Cas didn't look angry or upset, more like he was planning something. He smiled at Dean briefly before disappearing.

His first instinct was to find the nearest source of alcohol, but he would have to risk running into Sam. Instead, he stipped down to his boxers and curled up in the motel bed. He wasn't tired, but at that point gently dozing sounded extremely appealing.

Dean didn't remember falling asleep, but he must have because the next moment he was back in hell. He was staring at Alastair's twisted face as he stood above Dean, trying to convince him to just give in. Dean tried to move or open his mouth, but he was frozen in place. Just as Alastair leaned close to him, Dean woke up.

He gasped for air as he sat up. The room was swimming, and Dean's head was pounding. He reached out to grab the sheets or anything that would ground him, but his hand came in contact with flesh. For a moment he thought it was Sam, and he instantly pulled away (Sam already had enough nightmares about hell without Dean adding to them).

But the person grabbed him and pulled him close. Dean fought the grip for a second until his brain registered the scent; Cas.

Maybe it was the fact he was too disoriented to think clearly, or maybe he was just tired, but he couldn't find the strength to pull away. Cas was warm and soft just like Dean imagined he would be.

He could feel Cas rubbing circles on his back, and he truly thought nothing had ever felt better in his life. Any lingering visions of hell disappeared and were replaced with the comforting sound of Cas's murmuring. It didn't particularly matter what he said; Dean just wanted to hear his voice.

"You're safe, Dean," Cas whispered, "You're safe."


When Dean woke up the next morning, he figured he'd just been hallucinating. First off, he woke up exactly the way he went to sleep; head on the pillow and blanket curled around his neck. Second, they most definitely would have woken Sam up (the asshole woke up at the sound a pin dropping). Third, and most important, there was no way Cas would waste his time lurking around a dingy motel room.

Sam was already dressed and packed by the time Dean got out of the shower.

"We should get out of here. It's only a matter of time before the police find those bodies."

Dean nodded. Within five minutes he was dressed and throwing his duffel bag inside the Impala. Sam silently sat in the passenger seat while Dean pulled out of the parking lot.

This time thankfully Sam was not responsible for the directions, which meant they actually made it to the bunker in a little under an hour. They managed to have a civil, but extremely awkward, conversation in the car about whether they needed more ammunition. Dean counted it as progress.

"I think I need a vacation," Sam said as they pulled into the garage.

Normally Dean would have scoffed and told him they didn't have time for vacation, but the thought of being away from Sam was highly appealing. He made sure Sam had two cell phones, half a dozen guns, and a bucket of salt before he watched his brother drive away from the bunker. Sam promised to be back within a week and told Dean he'd call once he'd found a hotel.

Once Sam was gone, Dean decided the best option was alcohol. He knew of a bar close to the bunker and made it there in record time. Maybe they had the magical combination to make the last few weeks of his life vanish.

The bar was wedged in-between a nail salon and a pizza parlor with a neon sign on top. It was pretty cramped inside, but all that mattered was it was loud and there was alcohol. Over the course of two hour Dean downed seven and half beers.

A woman with blonde hair came over and started talking to him. Dean was too plastered to care what she was saying, but as soon as her hand crept onto his thigh he was interested. He ignored the part of his brain that said her hands were too small and that her perfume didn't smell right.

He was about to suggest they book a motel, when the hairs stood up on his neck like someone was watching him. In his drunken state, it took a minute for him to properly assess his surroundings.

In the corner of the room, arms crossed, was Cas. Dean didn't know how to react. Was he supposed to be angry? Creeped out? Happy? All of the above?

The woman said something else to him, but he pushed her off. There was no way he was going to do anything with Cas watching him. He shrugged the girl off of him and pushed his way outside. The only problem seemed to be that he was too drunk to figure out how to get his keys in the ignition.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said.

Dean didn't even flinch. He swore that when he was more sober he was going to have a talk with Cas about teleporting into his car unannounced.

"You stalking me or something?" Dean laughed.

"You won't speak to me."

"Has is occured to you that maybe that's because I don't want to fucking speak to you?"

"Have I done something to upset you, Dean?"

If Dean wasn't drunk he probably would have never said what he did. He'd have told Cas to fuck off and left it at that. But Dean was drunk. The floodgates opened.

"Yes, you fucking ruined my life! You fucking asshole!"

"What-"

"I fell in love with you, motherfucker! I fell in love with your dumb feathery ass, and you didn't even notice! I feel in love with someone who doesn't love me back! Do you know what that feels like?"

"You're drunk."

"No shit! And guess why I'm drunk Cas? Guess! You! I fucking hate you!"

Cas put his hand on Dean's head, and suddenly all the alcohol induced fogginess faded. It took a moment, but Dean's sober brain finally registered what had just come out of his mouth. His heart started to beat so loud it felt like his head was pounding, and his hands were numb.

What the fuck did I just do?

Author's Note:

I don't know why this chapter took me so long. What is it with "real" life getting in the way of what's important -fanfiction? I'm really hoping to get the next two chapters up within the next few weeks, but my muse is a finicky little thing. But I promised I will eventually upload them.

Anywho, this was going to be the ending chapter, but they were just being so adorable. There will officially be two chapters after this (one of which is an epilogue involving poor Sam). I hope you guys like this one. The last one was a bit angsty, so I went for happy fluff.

I didn't actually plan for Dean to just spill his guts, but he sort of did.