Author's Note: Sorry this is so short! I hope it turned out decent at least. First ever destiel fanfiction. First fanfiction in general, actually. I've written original stories before, but never a fanfiction, where I have to be careful to keep in character. I apologize in advance if it's terrible :) happy reading!

Working as a hunter, Dean should expect the occasional oddity to cross his path.

Okay, perhaps not so occasional. Dean and Sam had run into many different spirits and monsters. Dean never seemed very fazed when they came across one monstrosity after another. He considered it normal.

Recently, he and Sam had been alerted of something happening to the townspeople of Coldwater, Michigan. A strange creature had been wreaking havoc, attacking anyone that dared go out alone at night, near the eastern edge of the town.

After arriving, they stayed in a motel room that night, looking over the profiles of the missing victims. Bodies were never found. No screams. No struggle. Just a large spot on the ground, covered in the newest victim's blood.

"Got any relations between the victims?" Dean asked Sam, who was leafing through a pile of papers.

Sam shook his head.

"Survivors?" Dean inquired.

Sam shrugged. "I'll have to look on the computer. Perhaps then I can get some leads on whatever is attacking, as well."

Dean poured another drink without a word. It was going to be a long night. He headed off to the bathroom to clear his mind.

Looking into the mirror of the tiny, unkempt bathroom, he let out a frustrated sigh; closing his eyes for a minute to gather himself.

Opening his eyes again, he jumped as Castiel had appeared behind him. "Cas!" He growled. "Don't do that!"

Castiel didn't even blink. Dean turned around and found himself uncomfortably close to the angel. He attempted to back away, but the bathroom, as mentioned, was small, and he ended up scooting sideways until he tripped backwards, falling into the bathtub.

"Fuck!" Dean hissed, attempting to pick himself back up and regain his dignity. Cas' face was tense with amusement at Dean's peril, but simply reached out to pull him up.

Dean stared at the outstretched hand of his friend as if it belonged to an alien, but Dean begrudgingly let Cas help him up.

"So what's up Cas? I thought you were busy with all of that angel drama."

"No." Cas simply remarked.

Dean didn't mention the lack of elaboration as he simply nodded once.

"Dean, come here. I think I've found something." Sam called from the other room. Dean tried to move past Castiel and found himself standing much too close again. As usual, Cas wasn't fazed. He simply stared into Dean's eyes, with the trademark "curious cat look" that was unique to the man.

"Trying to get through here Cas. Mind scooting over a bit or something?" He asked. Cas shifted to one side. The wrong side. They were almost touching now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean hurried out the door quickly, before things turned awkward again.

"What is it, Sam?" He asked coolly.

"This website says there is an old legend speaking of a white wolf, the unstoppable killer. Killed sheep and cattle, mostly, until a wolf hunter shot and killed the wolf's mate trying to hit him. The creature turned ferocious and the hunter hid away, fearing the dark, not being able to face it again."

Dean thought about it. "Why would it target everyone else? Sheer rage?"

Sam shrugged. "No detail on that, just the story itself." He sighed.

Just then, Cas decided to throw his opinion in. He had been silent, and was standing just at the edge of Dean's vision, so when he spoke, Dean jumped. "Cas, that's the second time today you've snuck up on me! Get off me will ya?"

It was too quiet for Dean to be sure, but he thought he heard Cas rumble in amusement; a sound resembling a low purr.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Stop flirting, you two. This is serious."

Cas stared at Dean, confused by the remark, and Dean flushed, glaring at Sam. "We aren't flirting." He growled sulkily.

Sam made a face that blatantly said to Dean; "yeah whatever."

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and merely asked "are we going to the town now, or waiting until tomorrow?"

Sam shook his head, a confused expression on his face. "Tomorrow, obviously. It's too late tonight."

Dean had completely lost track of time. He read the clock. 9:57. It was that late already?

"Well, I'm off to bed. See you guys in the morning." Dean called over his shoulder. Laying down in his bed, he let out a soft sigh and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't a peaceful sleep, of course. Dean had constant, fitful nightmares about his family. His mother's death. The monsters and spirits him and Sam had come across so far. Dean jolted awake, gasping. He bit his lip hard to keep himself from breaking down over the hellish things he saw in those nightmares.

Dean suddenly drew his attention to something behind him. A shadow casts over him, blotting out some of the moonlight seeping through the windows. Terrified, Dean turned over slowly, blade in hand. A lone figure was there. Not standing. Sitting on a small, flimsy chair he had dragged into the room.

Castiel.

Dean wanted to scold Cas for scaring him like that, but he notices something before he can utter a single whisper.

Cas is hunched over, resting his weight on his elbows, head in his hands, but his eyes are closed and his head lolls to the side a bit.

He was watching over Dean.

He seemed to have fallen asleep while doing so, but he was there nonetheless. Dean's first reaction was shock, but then, as he saw Cas stir sleepily, he felt softer. Sweeter. Cas opened his eyes, catching Dean in the staring act.

"Did you have a nightmare, Dean?" Cas asked gently.

Dean hesitated. "I... I'm fine Cas." He assured.

Cas shook his head. "You're a bad liar Dean," he murmured sleepily. Dean wasn't used to such mortality, where Cas would sleep and eat, walk around with Dean and Sam and even sit through long car rides.

Dean sighed, almost submissively. Castiel got the hint. But instead of talking, Cas started petting Dean's hair, as if to soothe him back to sleep.

Dean shied away from the touch, unsure of himself. Cas stopped petting him, but he stayed close to the bed, in case Dean had another nightmare.

When he finally drifted off again, that night Dean enjoyed one of the most peaceful sleeps he had ever had in a long time.