Cas and Dean were arguing again. It seemed like it was all they ever did.

"What were you thinking, Dean? Going to a werewolf colony without me? Anything could have happened to you! Those werewolves wanted to murder you!" Cas yelled loudly.

"We're always nearly murdered! It's kind of our thing. Look, we did our job, we got out of there. Garth needed us, what else were we supposed to do?" Dean shouted back.

"You could have prayed to me! Asked me to come help you. You know I would have," Cas replied.

"Yeah? So where have you been, huh? You just leave us while you deal with- whatever it is you're trying to deal with," Dean said angrily.

Cas stopped and stared. How could Dean not know? He would do anything to keep him safe, hadn't he proven that? He felt his face flush. Dean was his best friend. He'd never let anything bad happen to him, and now he was standing here, yelling at Cas for daring to care for his safety. It was more than he could take. With a soft flutter, Cas disappeared.

Dean cursed under his breath and sat in a chair in their dingy motel room. Sam had been watching from one of the twin beds, sitting as far off in the corner as he could. He cleared his throat.

"You know, he just worries about you, that's all. I think it's kind of sweet," Sam said.

"It's frustrating, that's what it is. He thinks I can't handle myself," Dean answered.

"I doubt that. Think like this: you know I can handle demons alone, yeah?"

"Of course, don't be stupid," Dean replied.

"But you still want to be there when I'm doing it," Sam said.

Dean held still as the reality of these words hit him. Sammy could take on demons. Hell, Sammy could take on anything. But he wanted to know he was safe, and in order to know, he had to be there.

"Cas pulled you out of hell. He's saved your ass more times than you'd like to admit, and mine too. It's a sad way to repay his loyalty to fight with him over it," Sam said.

Dean grunted a reply. He already felt like a jackass.

"Turn on the t.v. or something, Sammy. I'm going for a walk."

The cool evening air made Dean pull his jacket tighter around him. It seemed like it had been days since he and Sam had tracked Garth to a hotel, where he had told them he had become a werewolf. And even worse, he lived in a colony of them! Dean had wondered how Garth could have been tricked into believing werewolves could be good. Garth wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but surely he wasn't that dumb.

Garth introduced him to his wife (who would've thought he'd find someone to marry?), and family, who proceeded to try and kill them all. Garth has been right about his wife. And thankfully, both of them survived the onslaught. Garth had said he was happy with his wife, as weird as their situation seemed. He truly did seem happy too. So Dean had given him the best advice he could: to hold on to that happiness, because who cares where it comes from?

Dean shook his head to clear the thoughts swirling around. An intrusive thought crept in. Maybe Cas was protective because being around Dean and Sammy made him happy. And all Dean had given him for his thoughtfulness was anger.

Why did he always react to Cas this way? Dean knew he wanted the best for him and Sammy. Damn, he sure was a jackass. He heard a swish behind him, and knew Cas had come back. He couldn't bear to look him in the eyes right now.

"I get it Cas, you were worried about me. I know how you feel. I worry too…I'm not good with apologizing, but I think I overreacted."

He waited for Cas to say something, anything. He heard him step closer, and realized he may have to turn around to make sure his message was received.

"Cas-?" Dean turned. He barely had time to register that the face behind him wasn't Cas when he felt a surge of pain in his lower abdomen. He gazed in shock at the werewolf's face, and the knife handle protruding from his gut.

"I guess you forgot one of us in the colony," the evil face leered at him.

Dean couldn't breathe. The air was getting dense, the sky dark. He fell to his knees.

"Cas," he whispered, as everything turned to inky blackness.