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A Dean/Castiel fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't Supernatural.

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A/N: This was number 7 on my list of Dean/Cas fics to write. I'm happy you guys have enjoyed my other stories so far!

Alright: I'm sure this concept has been done before, but it was too juicy to pass up. Just a short one-shot I couldn't resist.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

He didn't ask for it ... for any of it. He didn't want to be a prophet. He didn't want to witness the end of the world before it happened. He didn't want to bear witness to the blood and gore and death that went along with the witnessing of the apocalypse.

But he was used to it. He had seen it all ... or so he'd thought.

Chuck hardly needed to pay attention while he made notes, as he always remembered everything that he saw. It was more of a curse than a blessing.

It had started out as a simple conversation between the two ... innocent enough. Chuck had actually almost zoned out when it happened. He fell out of his chair with a less-than-manly shriek, he was so caught off-guard.

"My eyes!" Chuck screamed, lamenting the fact that not even scratching the eyes from his head would rid him of the images he'd seen. He couldn't bring himself to write any more of it down yet, and so the last thing that he'd put on the paper out of habit were the words: "... and the angel and the hunter fell backwards onto the sleezy, motel-room bed while tearing at each other's pesky clothing."

The end.

As I said: short.

I hope you guys liked it, I had fun writing it.

Until next time ...!