Dean was speeding down the road at breakneck speed. They'd tracked down the shapeshifter to a house on Baker Street. Castiel was riding shotgun, looking absolutely terrified for his life.
"Cas, relax, okay?" Dean saw him nod out the corner of his eyes and pressed his foot to the gas a little harder.
Once Dean saw the sign signaling their arrival to the correct address, he bolted out of the car.
"Dean, wait!" Castiel cried out.
"The shifter won't, Cas!" Castiel tried to follow, but his arm was paining him a bit. The brace and bandages were no longer necessary, though his arm did twinge with pain every now and then.
Dean reached the front door in time to see a man flee up the stairs. Kicking it down, he followed the creature in its attempt to escape. He burst open the only closed door on the second level, knowing that that was where the shapeshifter had to be. The curtains billowed. Running up to it, knowing there was no chance the shifter could be unhurt, Dean saw the pool and wet footprints leading away from it, towards the side of the house. Dean elected to head back down the stairs in pursuit. He saw the figure running back through the house, knocking over obstacles. Suddenly, silence.
Where the hell did it go?
He roamed the house as quickly and quietly as he could. The moment he reached the master bedroom, he saw Castiel tied up and bound to the bedframe. He ran up, completely forgetting about the creature, only worried about his friend's safety. Untying him, he worked to get Castiel out of the bed and on his feet.
"Cas, you okay?"
"Yeah, at least," Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled. "I am now."
Dean looked at Castiel with mild interest and breathed a chuckle. "I guess that shifter's gone now."
"Looks like it."Castiel's gaze didn't wander from Dean's eyes. Dean couldn't tear his away, either.
"Let's get outta here. We'll pick up the trail again once we're more awake."
"Okay."
They were relatively quiet on the way back to the house. Then again, the radio was playing full-blast.
Dean was vaguely aware of Castiel staring at him.
Once they got back to the house, Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder, relieved that neither of them were in any immediate danger. The case with the shapeshifter was over for the night. Dean turned to Castiel as they walked in the hallway. Suddenly, Castiel slammed him up against the wall, and, foreheads touching, Castiel nearly ripped off Dean's belt. Dean wasn't sure how to react. His pulse quickened. Suddenly his body took over and all thought passed out of his mind. He turned around, and, pushing Castiel against the wall, helped him out of his coat. Dean was about to grab Castiel's tie and pull it towards him, but this thought was interrupted by a shrill scream.
"DEAN!"
Dean pushed away from Castiel. But he now knew the person whom he was with wasn't a person. At least, not in the normal sense.
"Nearly caught me with my guard down."
"With your pants down, more like." It was becoming clearer and clearer every second. This was the shapeshifter. He ran off to hide Castiel in the trunk of the Impala, and changed into Castiel's clothes (along with Castiel himself). Dean pulled the silver knife out of his shoulder sling and started inching forwards, ready to charge for the kill at any time.
"Oh, come now." The impostor look at the knife and back to Dean, crossing his arms. "I thought what we had was special." He chuckled. "Well, at least, you obviously thought it was."
Dean charged him just as Castiel managed to get out of the trunk.
The two Castiels collided, and the one with only the white boxers on shoved the other one away. Dean buried the knife in the shapeshifter's back, looking directly at Castiel.
"That's what you get for hurting my friend." He let the body fall to the ground and move no more. Castiel looked at him in admiration.
"Come on, Cas, you must be frozen."
Castiel had honestly not given a thought to the temperature. Now Dean mentioned it, He began to shiver. Dean helped him inside, bringing him a blanket when he curled up on the couch.
Dean went back outside to take care of the body. Once he'd dumped it in a shallow grave near the woods, he went back inside for a beer. Sitting on the other end of the couch, where Castiel was curled up, he turned on the TV. He didn't watch much of it, though. His mind was on other things. He looked at Castiel in vague curiosity. Suddenly, he felt a sense of responsibility. He had to take care of Castiel in the watches of the night. Castiel was vulnerable now that he was human.
That lesson was one learned by both of us.
He shut off the TV and let himself lay next to Castiel, wrapping his arms across the fallen angel's shoulders. Castiel needed Dean's protection.
I'll protect him.
Dean smiled to himself as he brushed against his wounded arm, making Castiel wince in his sleep.
There are some things the shifter couldn't be bothered with.
Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall against Castiel's shoulderblades.
I'll protect him.
I should have protected Sam.
I'm sorry, Dad.
I'll protect him.
Dean fell asleep, and, for the first time in a long time, he was peaceful.
On the gravel driveway to the house, a woman with a Scottish accent could be heard murmuring to a man with a similar accent.
"They're there inside the house. My servant managed to tell me before he got himself killed, the oaf."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course."
"Well, then, in a few days, I'll send Moose right on in. I'm sure they both will be pleased to see him."