"I named him" Dean said in awe. "I named him…I forgot" he shook his head in disbelief.

Castiel tilted his head curiously. He had been with the brothers for a few days now tracking down a lead and the angel had begun learning how to fire a gun and draw a devil's trap without blood. He found himself almost…enjoying his time with the Winchesters, both of them.

Despite earlier misgivings, Castiel had grown fond of Sam in a way other that being Dean's brother. He was even fond of the naiveté that had led him to trust the demon girl and that little flash of innocence that still flickered so far behind his eyes. Castiel genuinely liked the boy.

Dean cleared his throat, bringing the angel out of his thoughts.

"I uh...when I was really young, Sam had been around for a couple months and he was colicky, crying all the time. Nothing mom and dad could do would shut him up." Dean smiled and his eyes watered a bit, because of the dry weather of course.

"I got fed up with it one night and went into his room. Mom was holding Sam and rocking him while dad tried dangling toys in front of his nose. I guess I was a little pissy, maybe I missed juice time that day or something, but I just looked at him and said, 'Be quiet Sam'." Dean laughed "and he did. Right there. He stopped and just hiccupped."

Castiel looked on curiously as Dean shook his head.

"I don't know what made me say it, but I don't remember thinking 'What's his name' or anything like that. I just knew he was Sam, like it was always in my head."

Dean was silent for a few moments, like he forgot Castiel was there. He came back around, clearing his throat.

"They hadn't named him yet, wanted to see what his personality was like first or something. So after that, they named him Sam and they let me hold him for the first time ever. I was four and Sam was just this little squirming bundle who couldn't even hold his head up by himself yet."

The angel noted Dean's expression turn from wonder to determination.

"They're not getting him Cas." Anger and certainty. Like he already knew what was branded on Sam's soul as well as his four-year-old self had known his brother's name. "They're not getting Sammy. None of them."

This devotion, this foolishly desperate claim in the face of certain loss. Maybe this is why so many of his brethren hated illogical, imperfect humanity. Humanity who stared at the inevitability of fate and said 'fuck you'.

"I'd give up the world for him Cas."

Castiel wondered if this is why some chose to fall.