Author: Pixiebsu

A/N: I want to mention something now so as to avoid possible questions later. None of these stories are really meant to fit anywhere particular in the show's timeline. This latest addition includes a sleeping Castiel. I suppose it could be near the end of season five or maybe an AU after the season. Interpret it how you would like, I suppose. ^_^

Sorry for the wait on this one...haven't been doin' so hot in school, took some time to re-focus.

Disclaimer: I don't own SPN (*sigh*), or the History Channel. (Though that would be kinda cool, too lol.) And of course, Dante's works are his own.

Warnings: Some male slash, also some cuddling (^-^) and some language. ...Does an excessive amount of fluff require a warning? ;)

A nasty spirit had been poofed and it was time to celebrate another successful hunt. Unfortunately, celebrating this time around meant bandages, pain killers, and cheap beer in the latest motel room. Sam had gotten a good sized gash on his side that would take a while to heal and Cass had been hit pretty hard on the head. Trying to keep from moving, Sam was currently propped up in bed and fighting back the heaviness in his eye lids. Dean was checking the small wound on the side of Cass' head, and while he declared it not in need of stitches he also decided there was a possibility of a concussion. The verdict was that Castiel shouldn't sleep for a while.

Of course, as soon as this was decided, Castiel realized just how tired he was, physically and mentally. Turns out, being thrown around by the ghost of an old woman hurts the same as any other ghost, and watching Sam land on a big piece of scrap metal scared him just as much as Dean these days. Groaning, Cass leaned over against Dean and received a small pat on the knee.

"I know, man. I'll help you stay awake. Just gotta make it a few hours, then you can get some rest. I promise," Dean told him. "Anything you wanna do? Movie maybe?"

"Keep the TV on low and your hands to yourselves."

Dean shot a fake glare to the bed his brother was starting to doze in. He opened his mouth, retort ready, but was cut off by Castiel's hand shooting out and covering it. "Of course, Sam, get your rest and heal." At the incredulous look on Dean's face he whispered, "You want him to complain? Please, Dean. No bickering tonight. We all need rest and my head is in much pain."

All traces of antagonism had disappeared from Dean's face. He deflated slightly and removed the hand from Castiel's knee to replace it across his back in a one-armed hug. "Yeah, alright, save your breath, Sam. Cass, why don' you find something to watch?" After giving the shoulder he held a quick squeeze Dean kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair.

Cass made a quick scan of the few channels available. Dean held back a chuckle at how normal it was, relishing in the small smile Cass made when he found the History channel. Of course, he couldn't let his brother or the angel know he didn't mind and let out some low grumbles about "nerd tv". They were promptly ignored. Castiel was leaning back against the bed's headboard absorbed in the TV program and Sam was sleeping with his mouth open on the other side of the room.

The older Winchester leaned back next to the token angel and asked for an explanation of the special they were watching. Cass was still explaining five minutes later, but all Dean had taken from the lecture was that Cass knew more than whoever had created the show. He couldn't complain though; it'd given him the chance to snuggle closer to Cass and enjoy the smell that was just so uniquely Cass: a muskiness that was all male, and yet fresh and clean. Although he'd never admit to it, that smell kinda drove him crazy sometimes.

Suddenly Dean realized that besides the TV and Sam's light snoring there was silence. Lifting his head off a warm shoulder he looked up at the head attached to it to see blue eyes full of mirth. "I am boring you." As usual, a statement, not a question.

"Nah, I mean..." a raised eyebrow stopped him. "Maybe a little. I'm just tired is all, crazy hunt and all that."

Castiel reached one arm around Dean and placed the other hand on his cheek. "Dean, I can keep myself awake. You can sleep if you wish; I know you are in need of it." Dean would have shaken his head if a pair of lips hadn't pressed against his forehead.

The man sighed. "Nah, I'm fine, Cass. Really, this is great. You, me, nerd TV." Both of them smirked. As they sat back and leaned into each other again Dean added, "If I even look like I'm fallin' asleep, you wake me up." Cass simply "hm"ed in response.

Of course, half an hour later, as the program ended, Dean's light snores began. Unsurprised, Castiel's only reaction was a small smile and turning the volume up a couple notches.

Funnily enough, next in the channel's late night line-up was an examination of the son of Nostradamus to decide if he had his father's "gift" of prediction. Something about him illustrating his predictions of Armageddon. Personally, Castiel figured he'd had his share of Armageddon in reality; he didn't need to watch an hour of ridiculous speculation and circular arguments about it in his down time. With a sigh he turned off the television, knowing his chances of finding anything remotely interesting were slim.

Biting back a yawn, Cass stretched slightly, careful to not wake Dean, and shifted himself to look down at the man sleeping on his shoulder. 'I'm not here to perch on your shoulder' ran through his mind and he let out a small chuckle. Much had changed since that time, though he couldn't pin point when his complete irritation with Dean had changed from a bad thing to something of amusement. Because, let's be clear, Dean still irritated him regularly.

With his legs stretched out and crossed and his arms crossed over his chest, Dean had a look as close to peaceful as Castiel ever saw on his face. Cass sat there and simply stared at his lover's sleeping form. The temptation to just nestle down into Dean's warmth and sleep was strong. His eye lids were heavy, this mind was getting foggy, and the motel bed was surprisingly comfortable. But, knowing how angry Dean would be to find he had been unable to keep himself awake, let alone Cass, he fought the tiredness off.

It wasn't long before the tired angel's mind began to wander idly. Somewhere along the line, the thought that this was his life now gave him pause. True, he appreciated the people he had for companions, appreciated the mutual affection, and even appreciated the comfortable pattern of repetition that hunts provided. This was a family like he had never known in heaven. It just happened that this was the first time he had stopped to actually ponder his new lot in life. It could almost be said, his entirely new life. Something triggered in his mind, something he had read... Ah, now he remembered...

"In that book which is my memory...

On the first page

That is the chapter when

I first met you

Appear the words...

Here begins a new life."

Dante, if he was correct. And let's face it, he usually is.

Lifting a hand up to Dean's face he traced the permanent worry lines under his eyes. Meeting Dean, pulling him out of hell, had truly been a mark of a new life for him, even if he hadn't been aware of it at the time. The charisma that rolled off the man in waves had been infectious, his snarky attitude indecipherable. Castiel had felt drawn to him long before the feelings became less...chaste. Or at least, before he realized it anyway.

Castiel was barely aware of his hand drifting down to Dean's left shoulder. Often times, when they were close like this, his hand found its way to the spot. The hand closed over the shoulder and his thumb trailed down past the flimsy material of Dean's t-shirt to graze back and forth across the skin lazily. Dean hummed slightly in his sleep, maneuvering himself more into Cass' side. The angel just sat there and smiled, letting Dean make himself comfortable.

Somehow, by some miracle, another two and a half hours passed and Castile managed to stay awake. His mind had gotten more and more groggy during his contemplations, but he had struggled through. Finally, he'd had enough. Sitting up he extricated himself from Dean, who had practically wound himself around Cass, and began to gently shake the man's shoulder. The loss of warmth combined with the shaking woke Dean up quickly. Blearing around, sleep clinging to his eyes, his sight finally landed on Cass.

"Oh, shit. How long have I been out?" he managed out roughly as he stretched a bit and let his arm drape over his bed fellow's shoulders.

Castiel stifled a yawn, "A few hours." The yawn won out. "I stayed awake. I would like to sleep now." Dean didn't answer, just moved so he was sitting in front of Cass and pulled him forward to remove the seemingly ever present jacket and tie before throwing them on the same chair his own jacket hung from. Sliding to the end of the bed Dean shimmied off his jeans and let them fall wherever. As he turned to climb back up the bed he saw Cass had copied him and was pulling the covers back already.

As they curled together automatically, Cass noticed that Dean was skipping ahead. Usually he had to be asleep for a while before actually cuddling up. When first climbing into bed he would lie close to Cass and maybe throw an arm over him, but tonight he immediately drew the angel in and tangled their legs together. Castiel lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at the hunter, but the only response Dean offered was a shy smile and quick kiss on the cheek.

If someone had asked Castiel where the action came from he would have had an uncharacteristic lack of words. All he knew was that he felt like a balloon had inflated in his chest, and kissing Dean with a fervor he didn't know his exhausted body was capable of wasn't even a question. His hand wound up to the nape of Dean's neck as he moved to remove any space between them, smiling despite himself at the small gasp of surprise from Dean's lips as he claimed them. Once over his initial shock, Dean responded eagerly, teasing with his teeth and exploring with his tongue. Dean didn't know what brought this on, and really his mind was still too fogged from sleep to give it much thought. But hell if he was complaining.

It seemed as if the hunter could feel Castiel's hands everywhere. His neck, his hair, his face, his chest; as soon as he located a sensation it was gone and Cass had moved on. Dean wasn't sure when or how, but he ended up being pressed into the mattress by a Cass that was making his breath shorter and shorter. Suddenly, he felt Cass tighten above him and drew away with a questioning look just in time to see a big yawn stretch across the angel's face. After a huff of laughter Dean said, "And that would be the last drop of adrenaline."

Cass looked down at him perturbed. "I wouldn't say the last." But it was made ineffective by the next yawn he stifled. Dean smiled and kissed him, but it was a strictly closed-mouth, quick and sweet kiss.

"Besides," chuckled Dean, "wouldn't wanna take advantage of ya in your state of mind." He rolled Cass off gently, mainly able because the angel let him, and pressed another kiss to his forehead. Comfortable sleeping exactly like this, Dean just burrowed down into the bedding and expected Cass to do the same. Cass, however, turned over and burrowed back into Dean.

This shouldn't have bothered him, and normally it wouldn't have. But, he couldn't shake a feeling of, well, loss. He was hoping what he was about to do, Cass would be too tired to remember in the morning

"Hey," he whispered hesitantly," Cass?"

"Hmm?"

He took a deep breath before saying, "Do ya think, maybe, you could...turn back around?" Castiel shifted enough so that he could see Dean and gave him a puzzled look. "I just, I don't know." All he got was a raised eye brow. "I just...it would be...nice..." he trailed off lamely. Luckily his angel took pity on him. Or perhaps he was just too tired to care. Either way he turned over and tangled himself up in Dean before dropping his head onto the man's chest and passing out.

All Dean could do was smile and breathe in his favorite smell before drifting off himself.

~SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ (Dean's Dream While He Slept Earlier) ~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~

It's a wide lake, spacious and beautiful. Exactly the kind of lake you think of on a hot summer's day while stuck in the middle of a city. With clean, teal-green water, gentle lapping waves, and the sun set high enough in the sky to warm you straight through, the picturesque view was perfect. Then again, the human mind tends to gloss over the gritty details.

All Dean knew was that he was happy here. Laying here with on this dock Cass, their legs hanging over the end, pants rolled up, jackets and shirts discarded in a pile behind them; their only focus was the heat from the beating sun. Sitting side-by-side, neither made any movement to reach for the other or break the silence. Both just simply laid there wearing matching content faces.

After what could have been eons, Dean, eyes closed and head turned, asked, "So, are you actually here or am I dreaming of you?"

Even though his eyes were still closed, he could hear the smile in the Cass' voice when he answered, "Which do you think it is, Dean?"

After a moment of silence, Dean answered, "Well, that smart-ass question sounds more like me, so I'm gonna guess you're as much a dream as the rest of this." A hint of a frown touched his face as he went on, "Which is good, I think. I've been thinking about showing you this place. The real place. I'm sure even my dreams don't do it justice."

"Where is this?" asked Cass. "You've dreamt of it before. I was actually here then."

"It's in Lawrence. Or, close to it," he sighed. "Dad brought me here on a couple of his days off. Before-. When he still owned the garage." Another silence passed before Dean added, "Anyways, I think you'll like it." Opening his eyes he found Castiel already watching him, eyes squinting at the brightness of the sun overhead. Somehow his eyes still managed to stick out, even when only half opened. "Alright, enough of the heavy."

Dean sat up and looked out at the lake of his early memory, taking a deep breath. Suddenly he was standing and down to his boxers. He smiled down at Castiel and proclaimed, "Time for fun," before jumping off the dock. When his head popped out of the water again he found Cass still on the dock, sitting there watching him with the ghost of a smile. "Come on, get in," Dean laughed, "It's my dream, humor me."

Rolling his eyes, Cass mimicked Dean nonetheless and the two swam for what could have been hours. They did all the things normal people do when they swim. Dean dunked Cass, splashed him, tried to pull his leg under the water. In other words, all the things that real Cass would have kicked his ass for in reality. Being Dean's dream, however, Cass just dunked Dean back and cheated during a swimming race.

For the first time in a while, Dean felt liberated. Tackling Cass into deeper water and not letting go of his waist, he was able to laugh and smile openly without worrying if it was wrong or if he wasn't allowed to be this happy and peaceful. Here he could just be.

Eventually the couple climbed back onto the dock, slumping into a mess of intertwined limbs shaking from laughter. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing when Cass' hand came to rest on his face. Once both their hearts had returned to a normal rhythm, he sighed again and pulled Cass even closer to him, whispering, "I could fall asleep like this."

"You are asleep Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Huh." Dean's brow crinkled at the reminder. Shaking his head he leaned over to lean his forehead against Cass'.

Cass shook Dean slightly. "Dean," he whispered.

"What, Cass?" But Cass only repeated his name, shaking him slightly harder. "What?" asked Dean again, eyes still closed.

"Dean!" the man's eyes flew open to see Cass' staring straight into him with those intense blue eyes. Cass whispered, "I need you to wake up now, Dean."

When Dean's eyes flew open for real he couldn't understand why he was dry and stiff...and sad. When things flooded back to him and Cass' pleads for rest registered, he decided that yes, he would let Cass rest. Because they had a long drive tomorrow. It was time Cass saw something. It was time Dean had a break.

It was time they were allowed to just be.

Alright so, I know this took a while, but it's my longest so far and for that I'm proud. (Also, had posting problems. I've heard this was system wide? But found a way around it, hehe.)

So what's the verdict? I'm interested in the opinions in the switching of POV between Castiel and Dean. I liked writing it that way, but if it's too confusing I won't use the technique in the future.

The dream wasn't in the original plan. I was at my boyfriend's in the middle of the night and had a fit of insomnia. So there you go; my own take on the lake in The Rapture.