Supernatural One-Shots

"Cas, Dean's in trouble."

The face in front of him was so beaten, so destroyed, far beyond the physical wounds. Though Castiel searched desperately - starved for the quiet solace that used to be within reach in the man's presence, when comfort would come simply from seeing his aura alive and pulsing - there was no trace of hope or faith left to be found in the face in front of him. His silent gaze mirrored that of a man on death row; wretched and resigned to his fate.

"Well, if you guys will excuse me, I think I'm gonna go sleep for about four days," Dean declared, pushing himself up from the table. Cas had known him, known the two of them, far too long to not recognise their familiar shows. The lies were not in their words so much as their actions. Dean's feeble attempt at a cheerful tone, answered by a brief chuckle from Sam's lips. The two men, who shared the strongest bond between brothers that Cas had ever come close to witnessing on this Earth, still carried with them this habit of lying to each other, and Cas had experienced personally, after a long enough period of time, how it transcended onto those around them. At first Castiel had been confused by it, as it seemed to have no effect. They always knew, instinctively and without effort, when the appearances that the other was perpetuating were phoney. But then the angel had learnt that it didn't matter. What mattered, what was important, was simply the fact that they still went through the motions, in the interest of attempting to provide some kind of consolation for the other. That took priority over everything.

As Dean approached Cas at the doorway, Cas could discern the tired nature of his resonating footsteps. Cas forced something resembling a smile, determined to keep up the pretence that had been set by the brothers, and as he passed, Dean reached out to pat Cas's shoulder. One, two, three times.

Cas's eyes followed Dean around the corner, and there was a split second before Dean completely disappeared from sight, where he cast a fleeting glance back to Cas, lips parted. Communicating a silent request. After a moment of confused disbelief, Cas answered by way of softening the tension in his eyebrows.

Yes. I'll be there... in a minute.

Dean let out a quiet breath, and didn't respond in any other way before he continued on in the direction of his bedroom.

"How is he?" Cas murmured, facing Sam again. The hunter's shoulders had tensed in the time that had passed, his stony gaze directed at the opposite wall. He gave no indication of answering. "Sam-"

"Cas," Sam said lowly. "Dean's in trouble."

Cas stood there for a moment, not knowing what he could possibly say. Cain had been their last hope, their last chance at redemption. And he had provided nothing, except something that Cas could sense Dean was keeping to himself. Something that had Dean slipping closer to the abyss, a stone's throw from falling headfirst, and right now Cas felt powerless to pull him back from the edge. Clearly, Sam was feeling the same, as he rested his elbows on the table, putting his face in his hands.

"Can you - go?" Sam asked quietly, his words muffled by his skin. "I just need..."

"Of course," Cas agreed quickly, backing away. "I understand."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam mumbled uselessly. "For - everything you've done. With tracking down Cain, and-"

"You don't have to thank me," Cas cut him off hastily. "It's - not necessary."

Sam lifted his face out of his hands, swivelling his head to consider Cas for a second. Somewhere, deep deep down, Cas could see a glimmer of something in Sam's eyes. Something light, amidst the dark storm clouds.

"It really isn't, is it?" Sam marvelled, asking without really asking. "You really don't need thanks."

Cas felt uncomfortable with Sam's implications, fidgeting a little under his stare, but gradually relaxed when he came to realise that his gaze was empty of scorn, only wonder.