Stripped Guardian (Part 1)

Dean opened his eyes to find himself lying on his stomach with his face smushed into one of the patterned, cream cushions while he had his arms wrapped around one of the smaller, red ones and holding it close to his chest. He raised his head from the fluffed warmth of his pillow and blinked blearily until the window came into view in front of him.

The sky was a pale pink with blue leaching into it over the top of the line of trees and rooftops Dean could see from where he lay on the sofa, feet furthest away from the window.

Stretching resulted in the blanket falling from on top of him and he hissed as the cold air attacked his skin, scrambling to pull the cover back over himself before finding something to actually wear. Cas might have been okay with wandering round in his PJs and God-knows-how-many sweaters but Dean liked to be dressed and ready for anything – 'always be prepared', another rule instilled in him by his father.

The elder Winchester pulled on the pair of jeans at the top of his duffel and grabbed the closest shirt that wasn't too crumpled before heading towards the stairs. A quick glance at the clock in the hall showed that it was just before nine so he had plenty of time for a shower; besides, the way Dean figured it, this would probably be their last night in the house and that meant the last day that Dean would be able to enjoy the shower's amazing water pressure.

Before going into the bathroom, the hunter pushed open the door to the bedroom. Castiel was still asleep; holding one of the pillows in a death-lock to his chest while the quilt and extra blankets were in various states of being thrown from the bed. As Dean backed out of the room, he hoped Cas had simply moved around in his sleeps and that the blankets weren't falling off due to nightmare-induced thrashing.

Half an hour later and Dean was much more awake, the sleep having been washed away by the hot water. He opened the small window to the right of the shower to let out most of the steam before pulling his shirt over his head and towelling his hair once more for good measure.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Dean heard a slight thwump and some shuffling coming from downstairs; figuring that Cas had simply gotten up while he had been showering, Dean was about to walk down the stairs when he heard the light snoring coming from the bedroom.

The hunter froze.

For a second, he thought that maybe he had imagined one of the noises but when the snoring continued and, what sounded like, a draw closing downstairs he dropped into a stance, edging slowly towards the stairs.

Leaning over the banister, he could see a shadow falling in the hall from the kitchen but couldn't actually see a person, however, he could definitely hear them.

As quietly as he could, Dean padded over towards the study that was to the left of the bathroom. Pushing open the door and a quick scan of the room showed it to be empty – save for a desk, a chair and a set of drawers – and as unused as when the duo had arrived.

Across the landing was the other bathroom that linked to the bedroom where the soft snoring was coming from.

Repeating his actions from earlier, the hunter went to the bedroom and pushed the door open. Sure enough, there was Castiel pretty much exactly as he had been earlier. Hoping that he was making the right choice (and that they weren't dealing with a shifter on top of everything else, because that would just be his luck), Dean entered the room and walked towards the bed.

Both windows in the room – behind the bed and to Dean's right – had the curtains drawn but light was still filtering in through the thin material. Stopping beside the left of the bed, Dean stopped for a moment to appreciate how peaceful Cas looked whilst sleeping - face slack and drooling slightly onto the pillow whilst the almost-constant frown had disappeared – before steeling himself for possible some form of attack for what he was about to do.

Slowly, he placed his hand on the Angel's shoulder and shook him lightly, making sure that he would be in Cas' vision when he opened his eyes.

The reaction was instantaneous; Castiel's eyes flew open, one hand latched onto Dean's forearm whilst the other went to the hunter's forehead, two fingers extended, and his mouth opened, possibly to shout, before Dean shushed him insistently.

After a few moment, the Seraph seemed to realise who he was staring at and who he would have burnt out of their body by the contact on their forehead, had he not been bound. "Dean?" he asked, head tilting.

"Shhh!" Dean all but hissed, waving his right hand in a motion that clearly meant 'Cas, shut up!' and placing his left hand over the Angel's mouth, glancing towards the closed door and hoping that whatever the fuck had gotten in/broken in hadn't heard them. "You gotta be quiet, buddy." he whispered.

Cas went cross-eyes looking at Dean's hand before looking back up at Dean with an evident disapproving look in his eyes. Muttering a quick apology, Dean withdrew his hand from covering Cas' mouth. Castiel licked his lips slightly before speaking and Dean couldn't help but to track the movement with his eyes. "Dean," the Angel started. "What's going on?" Thankfully, he had also lowered his voice.

"There's someone in the house."

~x~x~x~

Castiel's dream had mainly been disjointed images and a few memories, somehow flowing together despite having, in reality, been completely unconnected.

One of the most recurring memories that had been stalking the Angel's sleep was when himself and Uriel and been looking for Anna. It wasn't specifically looking for her or following leads but more a feeling that had shot through his Grace. Castiel knew what it was but he simply did not wish to acknowledge that he had felt it.

And so, he ignored the recurring memories of how he had felt when Anna had placed her hand upon Dean's brand – Castiel's mark.

He ignored that he had woken up in the middle of the night the day before from a dream where he had been in Anna's place during those events.

Castiel was only just coming to terms with the fact that Angels could feel and maybe it wasn't a bad thing, but surely feeling something so... So human for your Charge was still not allowed.

This dream, however, was somewhat friendlier. It was a memory from many centuries ago and through a different vessel's eyes.

Castiel, Uriel, Balthazar and Raziel were heading towards south-east Italy in the 17th century in order to help further a future-saints belief. Joseph of Cupertino was having an audience with the Pope that day and the four Seraphs had been ordered to to make Joseph fly – as others had done before them – to show that he was truly blessed and a believer.

However, Uriel had formed an idea; they would make him levitate just as he was about to kiss the Pope's feet to show his appreciation. And Dean had never believed Cas about Uriel being the funniest Angel in the Garrison...

As almost always with Italy, Castiel had found, it was incredibly hot; hot enough for him to feel it despite not being fully linked to his vessel. The sky was an endless shade of blue stretching across the terracotta tiled roofs with a faint breeze kicking up the dust that lay on the stone paths.

The Angels were standing in place amongst the crowd – Balthazar grinning broadly, Uriel's lips twitching up and Raziel looking completely done with both of them – and prepared for the moment they had been sent to co-ordinate. Joseph was next to bow to the Pope, kneeling in front of him before-

Castiel awoke to the world suddenly: something was shaking his shoulder and his fist reaction was to burn it from whatever shell its Earth-bound form was. When the Angel realised who it was in his grasp he almost pulled his hands away if burned himself but it was Dean's worried expression that stopped him short. "Dean?" he asked, hilting his head while his forehead creased into a small frown.

"Shhh!" Dean hushed insistently, waving his right hand while his left hand came up to cover Cas' mouth. The other man glanced worriedly over his shoulder towards the door before looking back. "You gotta be quiet, buddy." he whispered.

Castiel glanced down towards where Dean's hand lay over his mouth before giving the hunter a level and disapproving stare. Dean seemed to blush slightly in the dim light filtering into the room but removed his hand anyway, muttering a quick "Sorry." while the Angel licked his lips in a natural response; he could vaguely taste something musky on his lips that could only have been left there by Dean's palm.

"Dean, what's going on?" the Seraph asked, lowering his voice.

"There's someone in the house." Dean whispered back, once again looking over his shoulder.

The words woke Castiel up instantly; if someone was in the house and Dean was determined to be quiet then it would only be rational to assume that whoever the third person in the house was could only be somebody intent upon hurting them in some form.

"Do you have any guess as to who?" Castiel inquired, following Dean's line of sight to the door whilst also making a move to stand up.

Dean stood up in time with Cas as he shook his head. "Not a clue; I came out of the shower and I heard you snoring and someone moving around downstairs."

The Angel cast the other man a worried glance. "One of Molech's followers?"

Dean grunted "Possibly." as he pushed the door open onto the landing, placing his index finger over his lips before padding over towards the stairs. By now, Castiel could also hear the faint rustling coming from downstairs; whoever had broken in evidently didn't care about being heard. On the other hand, the Angel was strongly regretting to pull on a sweater before following Dean out – a thin T-shirt and pyjama bottoms was doing nothing to keep him warm.

An air of apprehension hung between both of them as they descended the stairs and Dean gestured for Castiel to scout out the living room while he would take the kitchen.

As Dean disappeared down the hall, the Angel stood hidden by the door from the majority of the living room but swinging it wide revealed nobody behind it or in the rest of the room. Slowly and steadily, he crept towards the arch that lead into the kitchen and dining room when he heard a shouted curse and the breaking of glass.

"Dean!" Castiel ran into the kitchen to find the back door ajar with the frosted glass panel smashed out of it, Dean lying a short way outside on his back with his hands covering his nose. Cas called the hunter's name again as he got outside; still on edge and looking out for what had attacked his Charge. Once again, he cursed his bound state and only hoped that he would have his power returned to him soon.

The green-eyed man groaned, eyes screwing shut as he tried to sit up. "'s gone, Cas." his words slurred together and sounded mangled. Going closer, Castiel saw that blood was slipping between Dean's fingers where they were clasped over his face.

Forgetting their would-be-opponent for the moment, the Angel dropped to his knees beside Dean and helped him to sit up before coaxing him into moving his hands away from his injured nose. From what Castiel could see, Dean's nose wasn't broken, thankfully, but seemed to have been clipped by a blow that had mainly landed across the hunter's cheek.

"St'p, Cas, 'm fine." Dean grumbled whilst Castiel held his face in his palms, tilting it to see if he was injured in some other way that he may have missed at first.

When the Seraph asked if any other blows had landed, Dean shook his head and began to get up. "No, dey hit me an' ran." the hunter managed to get out, sounding rather nasal, while he tried to step the flow of blood on the bottom of his shirt, revealing a good portion of his chest as he bunched it up across his face but Castiel refused to be distracted.

"What about your back, I assume you were thrown through the door." the Angel queried, glancing around at the glass that was scattered among the short grass and over the stone steps that lead up to the back door and small patio.

Dean reached his right hand around to grope lightly at his back and winced into his T-shirt. "Ow, okay, yeah dat's gonna be a bithch tomorr'w." he hissed and began making his way back inside, sighing when he looked at the door.

When back in the house, Dean went to head towards the living room but Castiel pulled him back by his arm and pointed to the table. "No, sit; I will take care of your nose."

The hunter rolled his eyes. "Cas, I can dake care o' myshel-"

Cas shot Dean a stubborn look but this simply seemed to annoy the other man even more.

"Sherioush'y, I can do i' myshelf! 'm n't a child or-"

"Dean-" Castiel began to argue back but Dean kept talking over the top of him; words muffled by his shirt and the mess of his nose.

"Cas, sht'p i'; 'll be fine, 've done i' myshelf before so don' wo-"

"Dammnit Dean, let me help!" Castiel snapped, crowding back towards the hunter. "If I can't heal you then you will let me at least help you."

When the hunter opened his mouth, again, in order to argue back, Castiel stared him down until the other man's mouth shut with an audible click (the Angel didn't know this, but Dean had been reminded of their confrontation over a year ago after he had considered saying 'yes' to Michael).

Before going to Dean's duffel to fetch the ever-present med kit, Cas gestured towards the table and he heard Dean sigh before he went and sat down.

Although kneeling in front of Dean at the table meant that he could easily tend to Dean's nose, it also put him in a position similar to those that his unconscious mind was so eager to present him with in his dreams.

"Hold still." Castiel murmured before removing the T-shirt from over Dean's face and gestured for him to sit up straight. The Angel attempted to keep his touches light and gentle as he assessed the damage to Dean's nose; he had been correct, the hunter's nose was not broken but Dean still hissed and winced as Cas trailed his fingers across its bridge Swelling and then bruising, Castiel thought but was still thankful that the damage wasn't as severe as it could have been.

The bleeding seemed to have stopped almost completely but the Seraph still ripped off an amount of gauze from its roll and offering it to Dean who placed it in his nostrils, flinching slightly as his nose moved.

Just to be safe, Castiel decided to bandage Dean's nose, despite it not being broken, to try and limit any further damage to it. "Please forgive me if this hurts." the Angel spoke again in a hushed tone. He couldn't explain why, but the Angel felt as if this situation – being so close that he could feel Dean's breath on his cheek, being so close that he could memorise every freckle all over again if he wanted to, being so close that if he moved by an inch or two then they would be kissing – was just too intimate for his voice to be anything more than a whisper.

Dean hissed quietly as Castiel taped a bandage over his nose but didn't complain or wince. His eyes were tracked onto the Angel's face and Cas wanted nothing more than to make eye contact but didn't trust himself as to what he would do after looking into the eyes that he had sculpted; eyes that he had based off of green peridots and garnets.

"'m shorry I was bein' shtubb'rn." Dean muttered as Cas began to pack the med kit away, the pout evident in his voice.

"Don't be, you never have been before."

"I-" the hunter cut himself off and was smirking slightly when Cas turned back to him; his expression a cross between surprise and amusement. "Did you jush' make a joke?"

The Seraph allowed a small smirk of his own to slip onto his face. "Perhaps."

The green-eyed man snorted and pushed the Angel's shoulder lightly. "Okay, chucklehead; 'm tryin' to be all nice and c'nshiderate 'nd shit, there'sh no need to shoot me down."

Cas' smirk fell into more of a small smile that merely lifted the edges of his lips. "It really is no problem Dean; it's part of who you are, even if you should learn when to accept help that is offered."

The hunter looked away as he gave a shaky nod and a grunt that didn't sound as affirmative as Castiel would have liked but it was a start.

As he clicked the kit closed, the traitorous voice spoke up again, whispering as the serpent had whispered to Eve; It's part of who you are, Dean, it breathed. It makes you stand your ground. It's one of the reasons why I lov-

No.

Castiel had told himself that he would let those thoughts go, they had no place in his mind, especially with Dean being so close.

He expected to be angry with himself, the voice or even with Dean but all he felt were pangs of disappointment and heartache.

~x~x~x~

After Cas had finished patching up his nose, Dean allowed himself a few minutes of just simply teaching himself how to breathe again. His hormones seemed to have forgotten that he wasn't fifteen any more and has so decided that Cas being within a foot of his dick meant that it was a perfectly acceptable time to pop a boner.

Now that Dean had both his breathing and treacherous body in order, he absently scratched at the bandage over his nose and hissed when pain shot through his skull.

"You didn't touch your nose, did you?" Castiel asked from where he was inspecting the back door, his back to Dean.

"No." the hunter huffed and the Angel simply shot him a knowing look which Dean ignored, getting up and starting to make his breakfast. "You wan' bacon, Cas?" he called over his shoulder, starting to pull things from the cupboards.

The prospect of breakfast pulled the Seraph away from where he was staring intently at the door and the scene that lay beyond the glass, or lack there of. "Bacon sounds good, Dean, thank you." he said with a small smile that totally didn't make Dean grin back like some love-sick idiot or something.

"Shay," Dean said as he turned around to grab the bacon as well. "Aren't you cold withou' a' your norma' 'nshulation?"

Cas' head tilted to he right and he seemed to think about his answer, as if he didn't fully know whether he was or wasn't. "Yes, I believe I am. I think that the adrenaline allowed me to remain warm before but now I'm starting to feel the cold again."

Resisting the urge to chuckle, Dean flicked at him with the spatula in his hand as he lay bacon in the pan. "Go pu' on a' your shit then, I promise I won't ea' a' the food before you ge' back."

"No, hopefully not." Castiel smirked before walking off leaving the hunter gaping after him again; since when had his Angel become so sassy.

Wait- No, fuck! His brain just needed to shut up.

Think non-sexy-Angelic thoughts, non-sexy-Angelic thoughts, Dean repeated to himself but it didn't really help to much.

Whilst the bacon was sizzling in the pan, Dean put the last of the bread in the toaster and flicked on the coffee machine, deciding he'd ask Cas if he wanted eggs when he got down. It surprised him a little how easily he had slipped into a domestic routine but, and Dean would never admit it, he liked it and almost didn't want to leave. Suburbia might make his skin crawl but it does have its perks, he reasoned.

The hunter went through to the living room as the breakfast cooked and checked his bag, still left at the end of the sofa. Initially, he hadn't had time to take in what had been moved by the intruder but now he saw that they had obviously caught them before they could get truly stuck in; only a few things had been disturbed on the shelves and on the coffee table. Still, Dean went through his bag and made a mental note of everything that was there compared to what should have been there.

By the time that he was sure that everything was there (except for his guns, Dean had decided to leave them in the Impala the other day in case anybody were to enter their house – something he was regretting now), Castiel had walked back downstairs; once again clad in sweatpants and three sweaters. Dean didn't find it endearing. Nope.

Smothering his stupid grin, Dean stretched as he stood back up. "Recko' you can watch the baco' a shec while I grab my gun?"

Cas' head tilted as he studied the hunter. "Do you think it wise to carry your fire arm, even after this morning?"

Dean snorted. "I think I need it eshpeshially after thish mornin', Cas." he stated, already halfway to the door.

After a few minutes of rooting through the Impala's trunk (damn it, Dean was going to get around to sorting out the trunk into compartments someday) he pulled out his gun and placed it in his jeans at the base of his spine, pulling his shirt over it to hide it.

As Dean closed the compartment back over his equipment - effectively making his baby's trunk look like any other car's – he heard voices to his left and he stood up to see Toby and Chris walking up the street clearly in the middle of some conversation.

The hunter could clearly pinpoint the exact moment when Toby went from simply having spotted him to having also seen the bandage adorning his nose: his face went from a friendly smile to a look of shock/horror and then finally settling on worry.

"Uh, hey Dean." Toby started as the two stopped beside him. "What, erm," he gestured to his own nose. "Happened?"

"Yeah, it looks pretty bad; did you break it or something?" Chris asked, narrowing his eyes whilst peering at the bandage.

Dean put a grin on his face as he closed the Impala's trunk and turned to face them properly. "Nah, 't'sh just bruised. There was, uh, a shmall isshue wit' the back door that ended wit' me tryin' to force it open an', well, the glassh went shtraight through and sho did I." he forced a small chuckle and just hoped that they'd buy it – he did, after all, have smaller cuts on his arms where the glass had cut him.

Chris made a 'hmm'ing noise in the back of his throat while his smaller friend nodded slightly. "Fair enough." The three lapsed into silence for a moment before Toby spoke up again.

"Say, Jen said that she heard that you and Cas are going to Cathy and Josh's tonight, right?" he asked, a small grimace pulling at the corners of mouth.

Apprehensively, Dean nodded. ".. Yeah, why?"

Toby and Chris shared a look. "Well, just to warn you..."

"I guess you could say that..." Toby bit his lip a little.

"Cathy can be a bit of a cow." Chris said quickly.

Toby nodded shortly. "Yeah, that sounds about right. We're just giving you a heads up so you have time to... Prepare." he said, his grimace taking full shape now.

The two bid him goodbye shortly after and Dean leaned back against the impala; sighing as he thought that killing douche-y gods he could do until the cows came home but if he never had to attend another suburbs party then it'd be too damn soon.

A/N: so, this update is incredibly late and I'm sorry; there seems to be no time for writing any more! anyway, I hope that I can get Part 2 up soon but no promises. for my lack of being productive, please accept all of the fluff in this chapter as an apology.

as per usual, thank you to infinitejellybean for beta-ing, I would get literally nowhere without you! [[please bare in mind that some parts of this have been edited since it was beta'd so there may be a couple of mistakes]]

thanks to you guys for putting up with my writing and terribly updates!

and this is also posting on AO3 and LJ under the same name [[LJ posting is on hiatus]].

my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!