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I'll Watch Over You

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“…He’s kind of a kid around you.”

“Sam, what do you - ?”

“I see this innocence in him…when you’re around, that I never get the chance to see.”

Castiel stared at him in confusion.

“This…child-like wonder.”

“I don’t understand.”

Frustrated trying to explain himself Sam continues, “No, Cas you don’t get it. He doesn’t put on a show around you because he doesn’t have to. I’m his little brother. He’s never liked showing weakness around me. But you…you’re someone he can lean on. Someone he doesn’t have to hide this life from. I can’t think of anyone Dean has ever tried being with that was able to accept him for who he was. Someone he didn’t have to worry about hiding from, or protecting. Cas if I’m to entrust my brother to anyone…it’s you.”

“Sam…what is it you’re trying to say?..”

“I’m saying Dean deserves the best. I’m saying he deserves a life. He deserves a life with you.”

Shaking his head, Cas averts his eyes. “Sam…Dean can’t have peace with me –“

“Dean doesn’t want peace. He doesn’t know how to be happy. But you can both find peace…in each other.”

Cas opened his mouth to protest but Sam beat him to it.

“Look Cas I don’t care what you do with it. I don’t care what ‘together’ means for you both…how you spend your lives. As long as Dean has you. You’re the only one I trust my brother with Cas. You’re the only one my brother doesn’t have to hide from. You’re the only one he can be free in. Next to me…you’re the best he’s got.”


“You’re an angel Cas. Watch over my brother.”

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The thing the angel enjoyed more than anything about his time on Earth was the opportunities he had to watch the elder Winchester sleep.

The rare opportunities he got to see the Winchester in his simplest, most natural form. No guard shielding his soul. No masking his pain. Sometimes he would see the various emotions flicker across his face as he slept. The fear, the guilt, the pain…whenever he would witness Dean experiencing what humans call nightmares.

But for the most part, Castiel loved watching the simple innocence of the Winchester relaxed in his sleep…wondering what he was dreaming about. And whenever those unfortunate nightmares made their unwelcome entrances, Castiel would lay a hand on Dean’s arm, or his forehead and Dean would sigh in relief and fall back into relaxation once more, returning to his peaceful slumber. And Castiel would watch. He would watch, and protect him when the nightmares came.

Every now and then of course, Castiel would check on his brother, the youngest Winchester, to see what the younger Winchester would experience during his nights. But watching him, just was wasn’t as fascinating as watching Dean. Perhaps it was because Sam for the most part wore and expressed a lot of what he was feeling often in his waking hours already.

Dean was another case as anyone who knew him knows. If Dean shared anything he was feeling with you consider yourself someone he trusts a great deal. Yes unless you were his beloved younger brother, or an angel that had access to his sleeping form, you would never know how or what Dean Winchester was feeling. Dean…

The Dean that wore his handprint on his soul. The one that Castiel created an instant, unbreakable bond with from the moment he raised him from perdition. Dean with the dark, defiant eyes…so upset when freed from Hell…so convinced he was undeserving of any type of mercy or that God could have any love for him.

His eyes…yes that was the first thing Castiel found fascinating when he was summoned by the Winchester and Bobby Singer that day.

Blue stared into green, a very dark green that day…nearly black, as they had a tendency to turn when defiant. Cas remembered staring in confusion at how a man as righteous and deserving as the Winchester could have such an incredibly low opinion of himself. He believes that, yes, that was probably the day he fell…

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As Castiel watched him now…he watched him with heavy blue eyes. He gazed, burdened. A great weight, pressure, placed on him by Sam’s words.

The bond of the Winchesters was not something of light. By absolutely no means at all. To be given permission by one, to be entrusted with the other, was the greatest act of trust the brothers were capable of giving.

What if he wasn’t up to it? What if he couldn’t provide Dean Winchester with what he needed? No matter how immensely badly he wanted to. As many times as he had let him down, that tended to always be a concern of his. Even before these new developments.

He’d taken on the burden long ago. Deciding on his own he would be responsible for protecting the Winchester—with or without the younger brother’s consent. So that was nothing new.

But to have Sam’s blessing so to speak…to allow himself to believe he was not only capable of keeping the Winchester in one piece, but possibly capable of providing him with happiness? It was never something he’d allowed himself to believe, ponder, or honestly anything he’d thought to consider.

He’d do what he could to protect Dean and his brother, and it would more than likely, end one of two ways he’d like to believe. One, they would, as Dean had put it before “go down swinging”. Or once everything was finally at some form of peace, the world not on the brink of destruction, Sam and Dean would find their respective mates, happiness and Castiel would make sure to keep an eye on them from afar.

To allow himself to even believe it was possible…that he would be a part of Dean’s future…one of potential happiness…the two of them…seemed too good to be true. The thought made his face feel warm for some reason.

He felt the younger Winchester was giving him way more credit than was due.

Suddenly there were thoughts and feelings awakened in him that were dormant before. Pieces connecting together in his head…in his heart, whatever that meant for an angel anyway…he wasn’t sure what to make of it. These things…weren’t supposed to be things the angel was capable of feeling.

But Castiel had experienced so much at this point…things he never thought he would ever have to or need to experience. Once again the Winchester was proving to him that things don’t have to go as planned…that things don’t have to go a certain way just because they’re supposed to.

His gaze softened in fondness as they often did with Dean. So much he had done…motivated by this man. He softly ran his fingers carefully through Dean’s short hair, careful not to disturb him. And tried to suppress a shiver at the delicate contact he made with the man, vessel tingling from the subconscious new possibilities he was now feeling, the Winchester sighing in contentment at the contact. Feelings that were always there…and finally being allowed to be felt.

The longer he stared, the more powerful he felt his inner glow, his grace. He was swelling with a stronger sense of purpose, a more powerful need to protect Dean than he’d ever felt before. A stronger connection with him…that would only grow if Dean would allow Castiel this privilege.

And even if he didn’t, this new recognition, and understanding of all of the wonder, fascination and bond he’d always felt with the man…had already increased the angel’s resolve and purpose. He felt, perhaps nonsensically, more powerful. He watched as the handprint he’d left on Dean’s soul made itself known with a soft glow, responding to what Castiel was emitting, before slowly fading away to be hidden from plain sight once more. They would always be connected to each other. Dean knew that. He watched as the elder Winchester smiled softly in his sleep.

Thinking back, he couldn’t think of much he had done that in the end wasn’t for the sake of this man…this human.

One of his father’s precious creations. The first he’d ever made contact with in a long, long time.

“And the angel tablet - arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe - is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that’s right - to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was about saving one human, right?”

He guessed what they all had been saying was true…he was truly lost the second his hand gripped this soul…

“When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell he was lost!”

In love with humanity indeed…

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He was beginning to stir.

With a sigh, a small flutter of his eyes and then a small jump when he noticed Cas, green met blue.

“Cas, how many times are we gonna talk about this?..” Dean awoke, slowly sitting up.

“Dean, what did you dream about?” He asked quietly, staring at him intently.

“Cas…” Dean sighed. “We talked about this…it’s creepy,” Dean said as he slowly sat up.

As he gazed into Dean’s eyes, he could see the innocence he was always able to find. The innocence Dean seemed to be oblivious to himself.

“Where’s Sam?”, Dean asked.

“He’s out. He’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Oh. Okay.”


“Yeah. Sup Cas?” He said turning back toward the angel.

“After this… What do you plan on doing?” He asked gazing intently at the Winchester.

“…What? After what?”

“After the war is over. Once Earth is saved…for the most part. Have you thought about that?”

“…Keep on huntin’ I guess,” Dean shrugged. “There’ll always be cases to solve. Bastards to hunt…keywords’ 'for the most part'.”

“Do you want…nothing more?”

“You sound like Sam,” He said staring at Cas, confused. “Look Cas you’ve been with us long enough by now to know that there is nothing more.”

“But…what if there was?..”

Dean stared at him. Like he was wondering what had gotten into his feathered friend.

Castiel leaned forward a little. “Dean, Sam wants more. He intends to have more…one day. And he wants more for you too. I spoke with Sam–”

“Ah. So that’s what this is about. Cas look, there may be ‘more’ for Sam—“

“About you.”

After one of their intense analytical gazing sessions they always seemed to share, Dean trying to put the pieces together and coming up with nothing, he broke the silence. “Okay, and? What about me?”

“Dean. Should Sam find more, what will you do?”

Signs of insecurity and uncertainty flickered across Dean’s face as he looked down, away from the angel’s prying gaze, only to disappear just as quickly behind the elder Winchester’s façade of bravado. He met the angel’s gaze once more but said nothing.

“Dean…Sam and I care very much—“

“Cas spare me the chick flick moment please. I’m perfectly capable of life without Sam,” He said, half feeling like he was lying to himself…and then feeling pathetic because of the fact that it was a lie. His gaze fell away again and his light seemed to dim just a little at the thought.

Castiel watched him intently the entire time.

“Dean,” He said softly, his tone gentle and so sincere, coaxing the Winchester’s eyes to meet his. Trying to convey that Dean had no reason for worry or fear through their shared eye contact.

Castiel took a deep breath, as Dean looked at him, wary and curious.

“Ever since I was summoned by you and Bobby Singer in the barn that day…I remember thinking, this is him. We finally get to meet. I looked at you, admiring my handy work and remember being so very curious as to what it was that my Father valued so much in you. The more I got to know you, the more obvious it became and the harder it was to imagine not seeing it before.”

“Seeing what before?”

“What a remarkable piece of work you are. At some point along our very long and eventful journey…it became impossible for me to think of you as anything short of my Father’s most prized creation. The closest He’s ever come to perfection. I know it that may be illogical, but that has become truth in my eyes.”

Dean stared in stunned silence at his friend. At first with a bit of shock, then a bit of fear, followed by disbelief and finally discomfort before dropping his gaze and shifting a little—speechless.

“Uh, Cas…”

Castiel reached his hands out, grasping a hand of the flustered Winchester. Dean froze in fear.

“If you’ll have me…If you think I am possibly worthy…Dean Winchester, let me care for you.”