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Dean heard his name being called from far away. His head hurt too much to even think about opening his eyes. Must’ve had a hell of a night. Felt like he’d slept on the floor and everything. Needed to sleep more too. So tired.

“Dean!” The voice was closer now.

Two fingers pressed against his forehead and the pain melted away. So did the urge to slip into the cold, empty darkness and just rest. Holy shit, had he been dying? His eyes shot open, and he saw Cas staring down at him, eyes filled with concern.

“Wha…?” Dean licked his lips. Apparently angel-mojo didn’t rehydrate you when it healed you.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You should rest.” Cas still had his hand resting against Dean’s face, though it didn’t feel like he was still healing him. The angel simply knelt beside him, staring as he so often did.

Dean swallowed a couple of times until his mouth felt like it was working again, looking around to jog his memory. Barn. He was in a barn. Right. So the case was …

“The Knuckle-thingie …”


“Evil horse-elf-thing. Where is it?”

“Sam is burning the body.”

“Oh.” Dean closed his eyes.

The pull to let go and sleep was gone, but Cas was right. He could stand to rest. Just not here. He opened his eyes and started to say so when Cas’ lips pressed against his, chastely but firmly. After a startled moment, Dean raised a hand to the back of Cas’ head, the other to his shoulder, and parted his lips, inviting the angel to deepen the kiss. Cas licked into his mouth carefully, sliding his tongue against Dean’s, but then pulling back too soon.


“You almost died.” Cas laid a finger over Dean’s lips to silence him. Dean pressed his lips against it, but Cas didn’t move it. “Next time, I may not be able to heal you in time. I might not be able to bring you back. I do not want to waste any more time.”

“Me neither,” Dean admitted when Cas finally let him speak.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked from the barn door.

“Help me up,” Dean muttered.

He leaned into Cas as he stood, which was nice except for the part where he actually needed to because he was as weak as a kitten.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, once the room stopped moving around him.

“Right,” Sam said. Sounded like he didn’t believe him. Well, the kid always had been smart when he wasn’t being stupid.

“He requires rest,” Cas said. “We will meet you back at the cabin.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said.

The bottom dropped out of Dean’s stomach and the barn was replaced with Rufus’ cabin, and he absolutely did not almost black out for a second there. It would be hard to prove that, though, because suddenly Cas was laying him on the rickety bed, pulling his shoes off, and tucking him under the covers like he was some little kid instead of a grown-ass man.

“I’m well aware that you are a ‘grown-ass man,’ Dean,” Cas said.

Oh. He must’ve said some of that out loud.

Warm, dry lips pressed against his again.

“Rest,” Cas murmured when he pulled away.

Dean was about to argue when he felt two fingers press against his temple, and the darkness that beckoned him this time was warm and safe, and definitely not empty.