A brief vignette set in no particular timeline. Castiel is hurt and Dean deals with the fallout. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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This never should have happened.

Dean Winchester rubbed his hands over his face, exhausted but unwilling to sleep. The battle just hours ago already felt like a lifetime away, but here he was, staring at the very real results of it. His hands trembled and he gripped his thighs tightly to stop the shaking.

In front of him, Castiel lay on the motel bed, bruised and broken. Dean hated himself for letting Castiel get sucked into this and then not being able to protect him. It should have been a routine take-down, nothing he and Sam had not done a thousand times before. Only this time was different. This time the fight had ended with Dean carrying Castiel's bloody and unconscious form to the Impala. It was the first time he could recall letting Sam drive while he sat in the backseat with Cas on the way back to the motel they were staying in.

Once they were back at the motel, Dean had carried Cas inside while Sam called a doctor to the motel room. That night, Dean felt helpless as he watched the doctor work. He had never seen Cas so fragile and vulnerable, and he knew he would do whatever it took to keep the fallen angel safe.

That was three days ago and Cas was still unconscious. Dean refused to leave his friend's side.

"Dean."

The older Winchester barely looked up. "Whatever it is, Sammy, no."

Sam pressed a sandwich into Dean's hand. "Eat this, please. You need to keep up your strength."

Sighing irritably, Dean unwrapped the sandwich and took a tiny bite.

Sam sat down beside his brother. "He's going to be okay, Dean."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do."

They both knew he was lying, but for the moment, Dean did not argue. He simply finished his sandwich in silence before he propped his feet up and opened a book.

Eventually Sam left them alone again, and when Dean could no longer keep his eyes open, he closed the book and turned off the lamp. Then he kicked off his shoes and settled more comfortably in the chair.

"Night, Cas."

"Dean."

The rough, scratchy voice startled Dean out of sleep. Without turning the light on, he leaned forward and rested his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Cas?"

Cas blinked sleepily and Dean could see that he would fall asleep again quickly.

"How do you feel, buddy?"

"Hmm…not sure…"

"That's okay. You've had a rough few days. Go back to sleep," Dean murmured, his voice unusually soft.

As his eyelids slipped shut, Cas smiled.

"Sleep tight, Cas." Dean squeezed Castiel's arm gently before he leaned back in his chair. The wounded man's breathing slowed as he fell into a deep, restful sleep. As Dean settled in again, thoughts of his mother came to his mind, unbidden.

Angels are watching over you, Dean.

For the first time in too long, he smiled at the thought. He really did have an angel watching over him, except for tonight.

Tonight he would watch over his angel.

Finis.