~Counting Freckles~

"How is he?" Cas asked over the phone. He was sitting on the town's park bench just watching the humans go by, either in a hurry to accomplish something important to them, or just casually taking a stroll, getting the much needed fresh air. He envied them, all of them, no matter how vulnerable, unknowing or tortured their souls were, at least they had their own, individual rules to live their life by. Unlike an angel, they made their own paths in history, there was no fate, no certainty, just trial and error and free will. Dean Winchester taught this concept to Cas, who was still trying to wrap his narrow mind around the act of human emotions.

"He's...He's been better." Sam's tired voice came through, almost strained, from the other end. That feeling came again, the pulling sensation in Cas' gut. It was very unpleasant and even though it wasn't cold outside, he felt a shiver run up his spine at each word, making his whole body quiver slightly, catching him off-guard, but only lasting a few seconds. Dean had explained this feeling to him once. He said it was called worry. In other terms, the panicking feeling you get when someone you love may be hurt, missing, or you don't know how to help. Cas had understood emotions for a while now, though they still seemed alien to him, and he wasn't quite sure he liked them very much.

"You sound tired Sam," Cas said finally, stating the obvious. "Let me look after him, you need to sleep. I'll be right in." He finished the last sentence already face to face with the younger Winchester, not waiting on Sam to respond. They were at the old motel they've been staying at for a while now, just until Dean was back on his feet. Sam was still in the clothes he had been wearing the last time Cas saw him, his eyes blurred with the need of sleep and his hair disheveled, sticking to his forehead. He blinked slowly and just nodded thanks to the angel before turning on his heel, slowly laying down in the other bed, falling into the much needed sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, feet still hanging off the bed. Cas smiled to himself for at least helping in someway before turning to walk over to the bed Dean was in. He looked horrible; sweat causing his now flattened brown hair to stick to his forehead. He had been like this for a while now, still not waking up but for minutes at a time, just to fall back into sleep again. Mixed with the feeling in Cas' gut of worry, he also felt like the weight of not being able to see Dean in front of him suddenly lifted from his shoulders as in, relief? No it was something else also, feeling lighter and...Warm? Cas really didn't have good words to describe the feeling, but the older Winchester had told him once that he didn't have to; it should just be known, labeled. And this indefinable, uplifting feeling was what humans called love. He smiled in spite of the situation laid out in front of him. Dean looked peaceful while he was resting, even if he was still sick. Cas slowly made his way over to the bed, lying next to him carefully, so close that their noses were almost touching, feeling the warmth of his body against his. He wished more than anything that Dean would open his eyes, if just for a short time, so that Cas could lose himself in their depth as he always did. He could picture them in his minds eye, a bright green, almost golden color when the light reflected off of them. He could figure out Dean's mood, or rather emotions, by just looking into his eyes; they showed his soul, always bright and beautiful in Cas' eyes, but sometimes hidden with pain and anger. Trapped away somewhere deep within, layered with a sheet of ice, but always slightly showing through in his eyes, even in the hardest situations...Cas could always see it. But the hunter's eyes stayed closed, shielding his vulnerable soul from the world around them, at the same time, looking as peaceful and content as Cas has ever seen him, not having to deal with the many problems surrounding them, finally allowing himself to shut down and rest for awhile.

Cas sighed as he looked away from Dean's closed eyes, finding himself counting freckles. For as long as the angel has been with Dean, maybe even before he allowed himself to feel, he had always found himself counting the many freckles under Dean's eyes, running across his nose in a different patterns. It fascinated Cas, just one more thing about Dean Winchester that will forever seem like perfection. 182, that's as many as Cas had counted so far. He smiled at his accomplishment before leaning in closer to the sleeping hunter, placing his lips gently on his forehead. He was burning up, nothing unusual of course for his state, but Cas managed to get the blanket off of him before laying on his back, against dean's side, leaning his head against the top of his sweaty mess of hair. He stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Sam had gotten up, said he was going to Bobby's, and left while apologizing quietly, but Cas didn't mind. Angels didn't sleep and it was always nice to just relax and know that Dean was right beside him, being able to feel his warmth and life against him, knowing that he was safe, and nothing would happen to him.

Cas felt movement from the previously resting body beside him. He looked down at Dean, meeting his golden, green eyes. They were blurred with sleep, half closed yet still imprisoning Cas in their soulful gaze, the sheet of ice unnoticeable, their depth pure and grateful...Loving. This caused a smile to slowly make its why across Cas' face to see them open at last. That feeling also came again, the feeling that Cas was still unable to describe well enough to give it a justice, but really quite enjoyed it. It was unlike any other emotion he's ever felt, and only seemed to happen when he was with Dean. Dean, another thing about this earth that Cas still could not completely explain to himself. The way this human made him feel even when he wasn't around, causing him almost every emotion he's come to know, all coming together into one when the hunter's eyes demonstrated the same. Cas came to the realization that he could never, in his life, be able to describe Dean Winchester in words of how he appeared to him, all 182 freckles and golden green eyes included. So he decided that, in his mind, Dean would be described as love, and love as Dean. That's the only sensible explanation, to describe one indescribable feeling as the other.

The hunter didn't say a word, but a wide smile spread across his face as he used all the strength he still had in him to move closer to Cas, lightly brushing his lips against his in a soft kiss before curling up against his side, laying his head in the space between Cas' neck and collarbone. Cas felt like there was no need to say anything either, instead he found himself slowly running his fingers through Dean's dirty blond hair, going back to just listening to the hunter's soft heartbeat, feeling each breath he took in and out. This... This feeling of relaxation, comfort and love. This is what Dean had described to the angel as bliss.