Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

E/O Challenge: Fragile. 4 x 100 word drabbles where things are more delicate than they initially appear. #1: Dean just wants to keep a newly-human Castiel safe. #2: The public persona doesn't always match the private one. #3: There are some things you just shouldn't try to catch up with. #4: Dean's throwing metaphorical stones.

~#~

Handle with Care

"What they trust in is fragile; what they rely on is a spider's web" - Job 8:14

~#~

The Bodyguard

A/N: Dean just wants to keep a newly-human Castiel safe. 100 words.

"You okay?" Dean asked, when Castiel returned from the store.

Castiel rolled his eye. "Please, have some faith in my abilities."

"I do," protested Dean, "I just worry, is all."

"Well, don't. I'm not some fragile thing. I'm still a trained soldier, mortal or not." Castiel paused, biting his lip. "Although..."

"Yeah?"

"I... had the strangest feeling of being watched."

"Perhaps stay home; just a couple of days?"

"Maybe," said Castiel, noncommittally.

Dean frowned. Once out of ear-shot, he dialed a number on his cellphone.

"Acme Bodyguard Company."

"This is Dean Winchester. I thought you said your guys were discreet."

~#~

Keeping Up Appearances

A/N: The public persona doesn't always match the private one. 100 words.

Dean hated seeing his brother so wrecked. Sam had always been so hale and hearty and Dean used to get a kick out of portraying him as a looming 'heavy', instead of the caring, sharing, yoga-lover he really was.

But the Trials had ripped that away, leaving a fragile shell in their wake.

Dean was determined to fix it.

Lost in thought, he almost missed Sam stepping into the kitchen. He scrambled to hide his Good Housekeeping behind a hastily retrieved Busty Asian Babes.

A picture spread caught his eye.

I wonder if there's any galangal in the bunker's stores...

~#~

Catch Up

A/N: There are some things you just shouldn't try to catch up with. 100 words.

"You really ought to take it easy," Sam grimaced, as his brother downed another shot.

"I've got a lot of drinking to make up for," smirked Dean, raising his glass in a cocky salute.

"Dude, you've not drunk for nearly a year. You're not gonna have the same tolerance."

Dean looked unimpressed. "You calling me a lightweight?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Sam sighed.

The next morning, Sam threw open the curtains. "Rise and shine," he bellowed.

Dean groaned. His head felt so fragile that it pulsed in pain from the slightest movement.

"I'm never drinking again," he muttered.

~#~

People in Glass Houses

A/N: Dean's throwing metaphorical stones. 100 words.

Dean stared into the bell jar, mesmerized by the never-ending, angry swirling of the thick green smoke trapped within.

"Ha! Take that, Wicked Witch of the East," he chuckled, as he repeatedly flicked the glass with his index finger, making a satisfyingly loud ringing sound that made the contents of the container spin ever faster.

"Please be careful," warned Charlie, "Arranging to drop a house on someone really isn't as easy as you'd think."

Dean rolled his eyes and flicked the jar one last time for good measure.

"I guess it's a little more fragile than it looked," he gulped.

(;,;)