Dean tossed and turned in his motel bed, grumbling to himself about another sleepless night on another shitty mattress. He'd been back from Hell for a little while now, and his soul knew that sleep meant a possibility of reliving that nightmare over and over again. Anytime his eyelids seemed to droop, sleep coming to greet his wary soul, a panic would set into his chest and cause his body to jump out of rest.

After the first week, the jumping stopped and turned into fidgets. The fidgets turned into what would look like restless leg syndrome by week three. Even the alcohol he would consume wasn't enough to drop him for more than four hours.

Tonight was one of those nights that aggravated the piss out of him. He could see Sammy in the other bed, sleeping like a baby. A giant lumberjack moose baby, Dean thought to himself. His tired eyes scanned the room, vision a little wobbly as the whiskey hadn't quite worn off yet.

The eldest brother grunted and pushed himself off of his squeaky bed, making his way toward the chair and table by the window of the motel room. He started cleaning his handgun and then had a thought. What's Cas up to? He placed his pistol on the table and grabbed his keys, eventually shutting himself in the Impala with soft thud as the door closed. "Hey Cas, I pray that you get your feathery ass in my car… because of important things. Amen."

The smell of demon was a scent Castiel had gotten acclimated to, the stench always clung to the Winchesters after a hunt. The angel's brothers' and sisters' faces were turned up in disgust as they walked over the bodies of human corpses used for a malicious purpose. They had fought a decent cluster of possessed youths easily influenced by this thing called 'rock music' that gave a detailed description of making a pact. A feeling washed over Castiel. One of which he could only identify as sadness or perhaps empathy for the lost teens in their deal for power and acceptance with a 'higher power.'

"I have great difficulty in understanding your abilities to communicate to these creatures Castiel." His brother was vague, he could be referencing humans or demons, as many did not approve of his non-angelic company. A gruff voice infiltrated his mind, it was Dean and his perfect timing. Sarcasm was getting easier to use. "You don't need my assistance any further." With that he took flight. Suddenly, Castiel was in the front seat of the impala that was not yet in motion.

"...it's still night, Dean. I would appreciate it if you would not abuse your prayer. Getting toilet paper, beer, and midnight snacks do not count as important."

As the sudden rush of air swept through the Impala, Dean immediately felt that calm relief only Castiel could bring when he was troubled. The angel's words caused the Winchester's lips to tighten for a moment, but the human spoke out a second later.

"I'm not asking for supplies or anything. I need a distraction, Cas." The hunter's hands rested upon his steering wheel, keys not even in the ignition. His brow furrowed with thought for a moment and then he looked up toward the angel; Green eyes meeting intense blues. "It's done something to me, man. Hell. I can't sleep. When I do, it's brief. When I don't, I toss and turn. It's crap. I've even tried to drink myself into a coma and it's not working."

The look on Dean's face was turning to something of defeat as he turned his head to focus out his windshield. He could see a few empty bottles that once held hard liquor perched in the window seal of his motel room, taunting him.

The quick cold response of the Winchester was concerning. It couldn't be but a few weeks since he last saw a smiling Dean. Why did humans feel the need to pretend they were well balanced?

"I see..." Castiel's eyebrows knitted together in thought. The long term effects from raising the man from perdition where an obvious oversight to him. After all, long sleepless nights were an eternal state of being for the old supernatural.

"I can make you go unconscious. Then, I shall stay with you. I will watch over you while you sleep. Does this help?" Castiel paused a moment, eyes watching the worn out man before him. "No one will harm you, Dean. I won't allow it." This was an easy trick he had done before, a simple tap to the temple and simple creatures went out like lights. A solid promise coming from the baby blue eyes fixated on the tormented face. Castiel would right this wrong at whatever cost and saw no issue with offering to watch him sleep.

One of Dean's eyebrows raised at the offer and he shifted in his seat, hunching over a little bit. "I mean sure, if you think that's the way to go about it. How long would I be out? And you can't tell Sam why either." The man's thoughts bounced around in his head, wondering if Sam would be pissed off at him, concerned, or whatever.

Dean groaned as his head started to pound with a reminder that the booze would be leaving his system shortly. He breathed a sigh and massaged his temples with his fingertips, trying to force the headache back from whence it came. The Winchester knew full well that the amount he chugged was stupid to go through by himself. Sam hadn't been in the room until Dean was well into his drunken state.

"Yeah. Yes. Please knock me out with your magic jazz hands." Though he knew what was waiting for him on the other side of consciousness, Dean couldn't risk going out and endangering anyone on a job. Sleep, though painful, was what he needed and if Castiel could help and was willing to do so, he would take the angel up on his offer. If any creature in the universe could provide a peaceful rest, or just knock him out enough to get a few uninterrupted hours of sleep, an angel could. It's better than being driven to a djinn, his life hanging in the balance. It was something the Winchester couldn't risk, especially in his current condition.

"Truthfully, I am not sure of anything. No one has been saved from Hell like this, you are special Dean." The angel wasn't going to try and sugarcoat anything. The last time he did, it came out wrong. Castiel then prompted the other man to lay his head on the celestial's lap. He was proud to admit he'd remembered to zap his form and clothes clean before arriving. The only scent he was putting off was clean fabric and something ethereal that couldn't be described.

Dean didn't argue with the offered lap-pillow. In fact, he was actually taken by surprise in a good way. This is something he would do for Sam when they were younger and his brother couldn't sleep. And what do you know, he doesn't smell like feet.

Removing the angel blade from his side, Castiel placed it on the dash. The weapon's impeccable silver surface shown brightly, catching the moonlight and their reflections. Only minutes ago was it dripping red with judgment.

Staring down at Dean's face he realized the subtle details, small scars, pigments and lines that gave him character. "This rest will be for several hours. If need be, I will interfere with your dreams. You enjoy..." He was puzzled at what appropriate alternatives he could interject in the man's mind besides premarital fornication with asian females and drinking hard liquor. "Music and dark bars." His words were slightly hesitant. Placing two fingers to Dean's temple, he alleviated the headache and suddenly the green eyes closed and he sat there, a hand on his chest, monitoring his well being. They had at least 6 hours in the impala before he would have to take flight to a private area to not arouse the concern of Sam.

A smile tugged on the corner of Castiel's face. This would be considered intimate by human standards. For some reason this filled his chest with joy at the trust he was given.

Dean's dream faded into view, like coming through a foggy cloud into the coolest dive bar he'd ever seen. The music was just the right volume, and just the right song too. A couple of grimy looking bikers were posted up next to the jukebox singing every other word to Enter Sandman by Metallica as it came through the speakers.

The lights were a little dim, but then again who wants to be spotlighted while getting hammered on a Saturday night? Dean grinned from ear to ear, making his way to the bar at the center of the room. It was almost like an elongated island in the middle of the bar, the counter wrapping around itself to make an oblong shape and a full 360 degree access to booze. There were only a few clumps of people inside the whole building, making for a decently relaxing time.

As Dean got to the counter, a hot little Asian number walked up to him from behind the flat surface he was facing. "What can I getcha, boss?" The Winchester clicked his tongue and said,"Whiskey, on the rocks. And uh," He leaned toward the open menu he hadn't noticed pop up in front of him until that moment. "An order of cheese sticks with a cheese burger, extra bacon."

Back in the Impala, Castiel sat still in concentration allowing Dean's psyche to take control of the small details to make his perfect fantasy. However, while the angel had the exhausted Winchester up close, Cas was doing a study on human features. Unkempt stubble, purple eye bags, this wasn't his friend he was looking down upon. Bright pearly white teeth in a ten mile wide smile, a nickname, and a few curses were the typical greeting, but he saw cold desperate eyes before they succumbed to sleep. Women and men of all kinds gravitated towards this motel. It didn't seem too comfortable, but he could assume most motivations were sex, alcohol, or other vices.

It was a few hours until sun rise, the time was passing by slowly, in a blink Dean, Cas, and Baby were sitting in front of a beach waiting for the sunrise. Sam would be worried, but in a fit of irony the angel played faith in the oldest brother to know what was best.

His intentions were to watch green and pink hues spread across the sky in appreciation to his Father's creation, but found his eyes admiring another. Humans can be so complex, especially Dean. He had an unhealthy habit to mask his pain and wait till the precipice of ruin to pray for release from his inner demons.

Curiosity got the best of the celestial so he joined him in the dream. Hiding in a back dark corner, he studied what constitutes a good night's sleep. The bartender was a familiar Asian female, one of the moaning women from the laptop movies Dean watched. Liquor littered the shelves and crushed bowls of peanuts were on the table. The music was of little interest, personally he enjoyed when "Creep" played, which Sam teased was Castiel's song after too many unexpected and ill timed appearances.

Dean had decided to grab a seat in a booth by himself, away from the other patrons of his brain-bar. As he slid his way into the booth, which was oddly comfortable, he smiled to himself and sighed.

He propped his feet up on the opposite bench seat and, almost immediately, his food was set on the table before him. The cheese burger was the most beautiful and perfect sandwich he had ever seen in his life. The damn thing almost glowed with how perfect it looked. "Come to Papa..." Was all he could say before his hands instinctively gripped the large mouth-watering burger.

He let out a noise as the sandwich entered his mouth and assaulted his taste buds. He sounded as if he was experiencing total bliss in burger form. This was the best thing that he figured could be happening to him at that moment. His eyes had closed without him realizing, and when he opened them, he realized he still had cheesesticks to try!

The bar started to get a little brighter, though Dean hadn't really noticed much. The song playing across the bar shifted in tone and then started to fade into Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows. The Winchester's eyes shifted around the building for a second to make sure no one saw him tapping one of his feet against the back of the other seat in time with the beat.

After a moment, he resumed staring intently at his food while all but diving straight into it. He was as happy as a clam. The atmospheric changes were lost to Dean as he began eating again, eyes closing once more.

Castiel watched as Dean's subconscious shifted the bar to reflect his excitement. Vibrant wall colors, upbeat music and a sweet smell of grease in the air. The concept of eating was curious, Dean was by no human's standards typical, but for an angel, a learning experience. He would brag of his prior fornications, but become defensive when talking about bowel movements- a commonly advertised biological consequence to digestion.

The range of flavors salty, sweet, bitter, sour, were absolutely lost to Cas. Once he had a bite of a cattle's ground skeletal muscle placed on a wheat bun topped with the coagulation of the milk protein termed 'cheese.' This was far from enjoyable and Dean said he was going to cry for the trench coat baby. Apparently, a decent burger was better than any fornication, which was believable as he usually moaned into his meats.

What was the point of feeling insecure in a dream? Castiel preferred songs of love and reserved that information to avoid being compared to a Cupid. The bar became brighter and the walls of creation thinner, which caused Cas to flea to reality. The sun was in position past noon meaning he had accomplished his goal of helping the hunter sleep. It had been a total of ten hours outside the time-warp dreamscape. Castiel took the keys and started the car due to the distressing heat and checked the time. It was 2 pm in California and people were skating by. He wanted Dean to see the difference from Kansas and perhaps enjoy the beach.

He leaned down to whisper "Dean..." And Green eyes fluttered open to see the proximity. Cas had no sense of personal space around his hunter and was smiling while petting Dean's hair as most humans do to soothe. "Did you sleep well?"

Dean's burger disappeared, the smell of booze, grease, and the faint hint of dirt were gone. All replaced with the feeling of pant-clad legs on his cheek, the salty air of the coast, and the sound of the angel he'd become fond of over a short amount of time. The comfort he felt was still there though. It was there in the dream and it was present now.

The dark circles under his eyes were nearly gone, erased by the much needed rest provided by the celestial that came to his aid. His body no longer ached, limbs still and relaxed. Dean felt better than he had in weeks, maybe ever, if he was perfectly honest.

The Winchester finally opened his eyes and immediately jerked his head back, seeing Cas's face so close to his. "Uh, hey there. I... I slept good, Cas. Thanks." The hand running through his hair had just registered and he gulped down at the lump in his throat. Is he... petting me? The thought echoed in his head as the Impala purred in the background.

Dean cleared his throat with a cough and sat upright, brushing his shirt down into place with flying hands. A twinge of pink sat upon his cheeks as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and wondered how long he'd been out cold. "Eh, where are we?"

As soon as his sleep blurred vision became clearer, the site out of his windshield was noticeably different. There were people, seagulls, dogs, and sandcastles. It was bright, happy, full of life, and there wasn't a thing that Dean could think of to complain about.

The absence of body heat from Dean on his lap was a disappointment for Castiel. This had to be his closest experience of sleep, being still in a dream, even if it wasn't his it was pleasant. "You've had ten hours of good rest, I can take you back to the motel..." His voice hesitant "or I can show you California."

Cas left the car tossing his signature trenchcoat and tie in the back seat. He undid the buttons of his sleeves and shirt. This is what a surfer called Charlie told him looked 'totally cool' when the sun is 'major oppressive.'

Dean watched as Castiel got out of the car and started stripping off his clothes. He was almost sure that he was in another dream, kind of like inception, but in a much better way. The white shirt, now mostly unbuttoned, opened and Cas looked as though he had just finished a photo shoot moments ago. The human blinked a few times while getting out of the car, pulling the key from the ignition while he pushed himself out the door.

"This is Santa Monica. It is one of my favorite Earth locations." A woman with blonde hair stuck in a high pony walking a tiny dog in pink booties waved. "Hey Cassy! Oh, nice car- better boyfriend! Details later, babe." She sauntered off in her teal bikini assuming their ragged looks were from some alone time affection.

An eyebrow of Dean's arched as the blonde lady called Cas 'Cassy', but he smirked at the car and boyfriend commend. He started looking around for the boyfriend, then it dawned on him. He was the boyfriend. His cheeks went pink again. "Uh..." came out and then Cas started to explain odd details.

"That is Loli, the dog is Steven. Do not get them confused, even when the male dog wears pink. They walk here every day. She knows great places to tour and gossip. But she doesn't think it's gossip, though by definition it is." Cas closed the black car door with a gentle push and pointed to a truck not far off from them which gave off notes of meat, cheese, and beans.

"I am no expert, but I was informed they have 'like bitchin burritos' if you are hungry ."

The moment the angel said, 'like bitchin burritos', Dean snorted and tossed his head back with laughter, never expecting to hear those words come from the guy that stood before him, especially not in that accent. It was a perfect valley girl, but so low on the register that it had shock value. "I think burritos sound good. Just food in general. Take the lead, Fabio!"

Dean had wondered exactly how many times Cas had visited this place. Did he have other locations that he frequented? Was it safe for him to be out and about like this with the war going on in heaven? Should he bring any weapons? All of that would have to be answered at a later time, because the Winchester kept having his attention snatched by that unbuttoned shirt and the flesh underneath.

Castiel had summoned his angel blade and stuffed it in the back of his trousers hidden by his unkempt button up. Dean was increasingly warm, but only in the face. A familiar phenomenon known as blushing that happened in correlation to when he would take off his shirt; this both happened with males and females. Cas decided that he liked the attention and effect he had on the hunter and was determined to worsen the it.

"I am not a shirtless romance connoisseur with long hair." This was a typical nickname he has heard and it strangely spanned from coast to coast. His vessel blushed and a bizarre feeling tickled the inside of his body from the joyful laughter. The description did not do justice, it was a wonderful human feeling that had given him the same sensation as flying.

The Winchester had rolled his eyes at Cas with a smile on his face, glad that he got the joke. He had to pull his thoughts away from his friend's alternative appearance. It was very strange being out in the open with the angel and not having a specific goal in mind.

"I have had no contact with my siblings here as of yet. I do not usually go by Castiel, nor do I wear my typical attire. It is not often, as of late, that I am not working with you or fighting in heaven. Not that this is a complaint. If I could, I would spend my time with you." They arrived at the cart and bought a burrito and cola for Dean and sat down under a palm tree beside a divider along the sidewalk. The view of the beach and all of its activities was perfect.

At Castiel's last few words, a crooked smirk played at Dean's lips, but immediately was wiped from his features. He only meant that as 'You're my friend and I like your company.' Don't feed into something like that. It's Cas. He mentally berated himself for his thoughts. These odd feelings would creep up on him every once in a while, but they were hitting him harder than before during these last few moments. Anytime the angel opened his mouth to speak, the hunter would listen more intently than the last.

As soon as they had sat down and Dean was munching on his burrito under the palm tree, a thought crossed his mind. "So, why haven't you talked to the other angels about your adventures in good ol' California?" His mouth was instantly stuffed by the burrito as soon as the last vowel was uttered. It is a pretty bitchin' burrito...

"The creation of humans are in debate. Some see you as beautiful creatures of marvelous complexity. Others believe that your emotions are reckless and a mistake that disrespects our Father. They just hate everything in general." He licked his thumb and wiped salsa from the corner of Dean's mouth as he has seen other couples have done before. He wanted that for a strange reason.

How good would Dean taste?

Castiel's face turned white then red as if his perverted thought had been said out loud.

"I..." His gruff voice cracked "think they hate that I love you." The words stumbled out of his mouth. Humans. He was supposed to say a half truth and only admit to the general population of humanity. Why did he have to pretend to be balanced? This is horrible. He suddenly wanted the fluttering feeling that was eating at his insides to subside.

The thumb that reached out was a surprise to the Winchester. Not that it was a bad thing, but it was definitely unexpected. The sudden change on Castiel's face was also registered by the hunter and he stopped eating to ask a question, but Cas said something he'd never expected to hear.

He stared at the celestial being in shock and then shook his head. He couldn't have meant that. He has a hard time with words. Dean broke the silence and asked,"Eh, what do you mean?" Not the most graceful attempt, but for what it's worth, it got an answer out of Castiel one way or another.

Castiel, a soldier of God, respected leader, and rebel of heaven had wide eyes and blown pupils that swallowed the blue whole. Brought to humility by a Winchester. His vessel's heart rate was rising which drowned out the jingles of the ferris wheel on the boardwalk, the crash of ocean waves and the scavenging gulls.

Was this considered worthy of a reversal in time? This moment was bleeding like sand through his hands, so badly did he want to scoop it back neatly to when they were in a hotel room teaching Dean how to swear in Enochian for 'shits and giggles; perhaps when he would sit in the back of the impala watching Dean belt out Eye of the Tiger with Sam.

"I am sorry, Dean. That was inappropriate of me to confess. You are my charge, you hold no obligation to my 'feelings.'" He self deprecated the last words, angels with feelings? For a human? As if he was worthy of a bright soul such as Dean.

Hell was a disgusting place which spanned the infinite with blood and smoke, but there was one who was beautiful and stood righteous amongst the rest. He plucked him like an apple from the tree of knowledge which pitted him against Heaven.

It wasn't then when he realized he loved Dean, but his first visit to a beach was when he was pestered by Loli, an annoying blonde cherub who helped him confront these complex feelings. He should have tripped her when she intentionally strolled by to make her homosexual comment.

Castiel stood up fast, fumbling with his words and the buttons. Never could he recant his love. It was embarrassing, but true.

Snapping out of his stupor, Dean waved his hands at Cas for a second. He jumped to his feet, gripped both of the angels hands in his own. He didn't want to let go and he didn't plan on it. As he stopped Castiel's hands, he watched the angel's expression change multiple times.

"Castiel, stop. Stop and listen for just a moment." The Winchester's voice was as sober as a priests giving a sermon. "Don't apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone for saying that. Do you hear me?" His grip on Cas's hands didn't let up as he stared into the eyes of the angel that seemed to be lost. Instead of letting go, Dean moved his hands to lace their fingers together. Its Cali. No one cares.

Three buttons had yet to be fastened when Castiel's tan hands were taken from the white material. The roughness of the hunter's palms were nice, he was so dedicated to fixing his car and working on his guns. Here he was again trying to fix.

The hunter's cheeks were deep shade of rouge, but he couldn't give a rat's ass at that moment. "Please, just..." He looked down at their hands, angel and human, then back up with his green eyes full of so many emotions they might explode. "Just be yourself." The last few words came out in a whisper, carried gently by the faint breeze and then lost to the universe.

Dean's heart was pounding in his ears, his stomach was in knots, and his whole body felt like it was shaking. He was nervous, but unafraid.

"Be myself? I never knew myself until you. I stepped out of the role of cannon fodder for entitled angels. I pray to you when I hear you call and I desperately wish you could hear me. I have no gospel but you and I write a passage every day with our memories. All of us, you, Bobby, Sam." He gulped hard unsure of what was supposed to happen next.

"I choose this over Heaven. No matter what. No matter the consequences of my honesty. I have no understanding of what to do but what I have always done. I will praise you above the voices of condescension and doubt; especially the ones you manifest yourself." He swept his thumb over their tangled fingers. A stinging was in his eyes and a wetness fell down his cheeks.

The thought of Castiel praying back to him, unable to get his words to the man's ears broke Dean's heart. A stabbing pain in his chest beckoned a soft cough to keep his composer. Dean had never really thought much of himself, but the world of Bobby, Sam, and Cas. To hear the angel, his angel, address his feelings like this had the hunter at full attention.

As tears fell upon Cas's cheeks, a pained expression plagued Dean's features. "Ah, c'mon man... You're gonna make me spring a leak." He was referencing the tears welling up in his own eyes, catching just at the brim. Using one set of their clasped hands, he nudged Cas's chin up and leaned in close. "If Heaven wants to stop us, they'll have to go through me." His low grumbling voice was stern, a promise was made. He paused for a moment, then softly pressed his lips to Cas's.

If ever there was a time that the hunter felt things were right, this would have been it. Though he was trying to assure Castiel that things would be fine, he was also informing himself. Everything's gonna be okay.

He pulled his angel's arms toward his shoulders and let go of his hands, only to wrap his arms around Castiel in a warm embrace. Dean's fingers spread wide as he tried to encompass the angel in his entirety.