Dean can't stop thinking. His thoughts are a merry-go-round of worry and worst-case scenarios, what-ifs and how-comes

We should have brought Cas.

No you shouldn't have.

Why not?

He'd be a liability.

Then why did you go at all?

Because it's the biggest fuckinghunt of the century!

Besides icing the flipping Devil and you did that too!

I'm the best hunter in the world!

That remains to be proven. And besides, last I checked Allison and Sawyer Parker had better funds, have killed more bastards and could take even you down in a fight.

Well we'll just test that out when we see them, now won't we!

What if something goes wrong back at the house? What if Cas gets attacked by an angel, or a bear walks in and eats him.

We've got angel wards. And there are no bears near Bobby's place, Bobby killed them all.

What if he takes the wards down? What if he wants to say goodbye to an angel friend or something?

Cas won't do that.

What if he does?

He won't.

Fine, what if he chokes on his own puke?

Dean can't come up with a way out of this one and it is in that lull between new, terrifying thought and counterpoint, that he realizes that Bobby has been talking about how-

'-and most importantly, this hunting spree is not a competition, no matter what anyone else says. If anyone asks you how many bastards you killed, say 'I lost count.' And walk away. And, Dean, don't let anyone ruffle you. The Parker Twins have had it in for you since they first heard about Azazel.'

'No they haven't!' Sam says, 'They're nice people, guys.'

'Bullshit.' Bobby growls from the back seat, 'All in all, I guess what I'm trying to say is shoot straight, and Dean, be nice.'

Dean rolls his eyes and shifts his shoulders.

'How come you never tell Sammy to be nice?'

XxX

'My dear, Zachariah certainly put you through a ringer didn't he?'

Balthazar waves his hand and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket appears on Bobby's desk. He offers Castiel a glass, but the ex-angel raises a hand, declining.

'That will not end well.' He says.

Balthazar cocks his head and looks Cas in the face, and Cas watches as understanding unfolds on Balthazar's face like a flower.

'You can't eat,' He says simply, 'Can you sleep?' There is worry in Balthazar's voice. Castiel shakes his head.

Castiel watches Balthazar's vessel sag, the human's face, with too many lines to be fit for the magic of Balthazar, droop.

Castiel remembers fondly how they had once fought together in Heaven's wars, how Balthazar had been by Castiel's side for those forty years in Hell, had joked about the state the humans in the Pit had found themselves in.

In all truth, Balthazar had made it to Dean first, but had allowed his brother the great and terrible honor of mending the broken soul of the Winchester boy, because Balthazar knew that too much love would turn Castiel into a fighter, not a soldier.

Castiel should thank him for that.

This angel, in the aging vessel, has been Castiel's friend for millennia. And now that those millennia will soon amount to only dust, Castiel does not feel right simply slipping away for good without saying goodbye.

'I am plagued by nightmares of tigers that turn black whenever they touch a shadow. I see the sword that Zachariah used to steal my Grace and then I wake up.'

It is plain that Zachariah did not boast of Castiel's failing health.

There is a flutter, and Balthazar stands in front of Castiel, pressing his forehead against the ex-… no… not ex-angel… human's forehead. Castiel is shocked by how cold Balthazar is. It seems that, wrapped up in the quiet nostalgia of death and warmth and illness and humanity, Castiel has forgotten the cold.

'Castiel, my dearest friend. How long does the Demon King say you have?'

Castiel pulls away.

'How do you…-'

Balthazar sips his drink and says, 'We run into each other every now and then.'

Castiel nods. '8 days.'

'Well,' Balthazar smiles, 'Let's make this one count.'

XxX

Dean hates the Parker Twins.

Allison is tall, not Sam tall, but tall enough so that Dean has issues looking her in the eyes. Tall, with long ginger hair and a rugged look about her, and skin so pale it's almost translucent. She has a recklessly sloping nose and rough chin, and eyes so calculating they remind Dean of Castiel. If there is one thing her eyes say about her, it's that she's whip smart.

If she wasn't a total bitch, maybe Dean would have screwed her by now.

She is all spitfire and charisma, has a fluidity in her voice that speaks volumes about her intelligence, and her love of ripping and shredding is only matched by her love of her brother.

Sawyer is as to her as day is to night. He is calm, fluid, with curly hair and soft eyes. He is everything his sister is not.

Whenever Bobby hears Dean complain about them, how smart they are, or how lame they are, or how a glock is less fun to load than a shotgun, the elder hunter claps him upside the head and says sternly,

'They are exactly like you and your brother, only they chose this life.'

Maybe that's why Dean hates them. They chose this Hell, whereas he and Sam were raised to be the flames that fuel the hunter life. It is precisely for this reason that Dean is not sure he'll enjoy the 'gathering' of Hunters about half a town over, to discuss plans and such about their attack.

It turns out Dean is right.

While aged men with grizzled faces and missing body parts hold up maps, Dean spots Sam talking to the two of them, and they laugh at something he says and exchange opposite stories. Allie talks with her hands. Sawyer speaks through his silence.

He doesn't know why he stalks over, and he listens mutely from behind a corner.

First they talk about recent events. The Parker twins joke about not being invited to the Devil party, Sam says it wasn't that eventful and Sawyer starts up on a group of Wendigos killing people off in a small isolated town. Then Sam says the last time he hunted a Wendigo, he and Dean were hunting alone-

'So you picked someone else up, other than Bobby?' Dean hears Sawyer ask.

'Ye-yeah. A friend who helped Dean out a of a sticky situation.'

'What kind of sticky are we talking about?' Allie laughs. Dean freezes.

Sam takes a moment to respond, and that is all it takes for both the Parkers to let out long and painful ooohs.

'So this friend and Dean. They're, like… an item?'

Sam says nothing.

'Damn,' Allie says, 'I was looking forward to riding that ass on this hunt!'

Dean barely feels himself slide around the corner, anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach like some kind of toxic gas. The thought that he and that bitch would actually do it, sends ice into Dean's veins. He grabs his brother's arm and ferries him deeper into the crowd, leaving the Parker twins exchanging glances.

'Dean, look, I'm sorry.' Sam starts.

'Yeah, whatever.' Is all he can manage.

XxX

'-and then Hester, and, you know Hester, all glory and 'hand me that blade' and battle born, looks up at me and says 'Dibs?'!'

Castiel doubles over again laughter spilling from him in heaving, cramping loads. Balthazar curls and uncurls his legs as laughing spasms roll over him, one hand trying to keep the champagne from spilling, the other waving through the air like a lasso.

'A-And what d-did Jacob say?' Castiel asks through tears, clutching his sides, which feel like they're about to split open.

Balthazar reins in his laughter and says in a mock French accent, 'Oui, oui.'

They both explode again, spilling chuckles like drinks, and Castiel notes that the silence that filled Bobby's house has left to find a less crowded place to sleep since Balthazar's arrival. Castiel's friend has filled the empty spaces the silence left behind with the smell of generously applied cologne and laugh lines.

Castiel has missed this. The companionship his brothers offer.

His thought is interrupted by a phone ringing. It isn't one of Bobby's hunter phones, so Castiel looks for cell phone Dean gave him. He finds it behind the couch he and Balthazar have been sitting on, and heaven knows how it got there.

He flips it open without even looking at the caller ID. He knows it's Dean.

'Hello?'

'Yeah, hey, Cas.' Dean says, his voice grainy.

'Dean, how are you? How are Sam and Bobby?'

'Fine, we're all fine Cas. How are things? Are you OK?'

'Yes, everything is fine here.'

'How's your fever?'

'It has subsided a bit.'

'Good… that's good.'

' The hunt begins tomorrow, doesn't it?'

'Yeah, it does…' Dean trails off on the other line, and in the background of static, Castiel can hear traffic. Dean is outside. Perhaps he doesn't want people to hear what he is about to say.

'Then I don't really understand the reason for this call, other than to check in.' Castiel says bluntly.

Balthazar sits quietly on the couch, watching Castiel and smiling slightly. Castiel knows he is listening to the entire conversation, as he still remains a celestial being.

'I just wanted to call… you know… in case I don't make it back tomorrow, I just wanted you to know, that I uh…'

The pause spans much longer than any of the others, and Castiel has grown used to the boisterous noise of Balthazar the past day, and therefore feels the need to fill the silence.

'Dean, I cannot speak as assuredly as I could when I was an angel, but I believe with all of my remaining power that you will live through this hunt. You did, after all, defeat the Devil.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Dean sighs, 'Well, guess I'd better hit the hay. Take it easy alright?'

'I will.'

'Okay, good. I love you Cas.'

XxX

The words are out before he even knows he's said them. He does not even know where they come from, he's not even sure if he means them or not, but either way they collapse out of him.

Perhaps he says them because in Castiel's absence, he has returned to the dust and dirt and silver coolness of his hunter life.

He's cold again, and despite himself he misses Castiel's warmth beside him in the morning and at night. Or perhaps the stress has finally corroded him, the stress of imminent but subsiding realization that Castiel is dying. The man is burning, no matter what the fever says, and soon, this will all mean nothing.

But he says it anyway, whether he's lying or telling the truth.

XxX

'I love you too, Dean.'

Castiel does not even hesitate.

He has been in love with Dean Winchester since he first bound them together in the Pit, when he stole the soul from the flames and put in back together like a life sized jigsaw puzzle.

XxX

Dean goes back to the cold of motel, passes a sleeping Sam who is snoring softly. He lays down, feels the freeze of the bedsprings, the frost of stained sheets.

Big day tomorrow.

Big day…

A/N *Balthazar x Castiel 5ever*

Everytime I make about how 'the silence' has left the house I always think of the Doctor Who creatur-

What was I saying?

Oh, yes, sorry. Big hunt tomorrow, who's gonna die? Leave a review on your way out if you want them to live! *points gun at Word Doc*