Crazy Mind -Destiel-

28- Two minutes to midnight

"Dean." 

Dean jolts awake, his eyes snapping in the direction of the voice. He blinks, squinting as the harsh light from outside shines into his eyes. Frowning, his eyes land on a pair of blue eyes barely an inch from his face. Dean's eyes scan the face in front of him. It's then Dean remembers where he is. He sighs and closes his eyes dropping his forehead back onto Castiel's shoulder. Castiel flexes his hand beneath Dean's and the movement makes Dean's stomach flutter. He shifts his head, rubbing his eyes into the fabric of Castiel's trench coat. That's when he hears sniggering from the front seat. 

Dean's head snaps up in time to see Sam covering his mouth. Dean snatches his hand away from Castiel's, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of something to say. He glances at Castiel but just rolls his eyes. "Shut up Sam." He hisses as he pushes open the impala door and climbs out. Sam snorts, trying to hold in his laughter as he climbs out. 

"Oh come on Dean! Don't be so embarrassed!" Sam shouts as Dean speed walks towards Bobby's house. "I never knew you were a cuddler!" Dean flips his brother the bird as he walks inside, trying to ignore the way his cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

He walks to the fridge, opening it and uselessly looking at the empty shelves to cool his burning face. The feeling of Castiels warm body pressed against his side is still seared into his memory and the thought sends a shiver down his spine. 

"You should sleep." Dean tenses, still looking into the fridge.

"I've been sleeping Cas." He swallows and shuts the fridge with a sigh. "I need to- we need to do something, research, anything." Dean turns around to face Castiel, trapped between the angel and the fridge. "This is all gonna blow up in our faces sooner or later, we barely made it out last time and we have no plan. We've just been getting lucky this whole time!" Dean glances behind Castiel but finds neither Sam nor Bobby. "I need to get this grace out of me, it's messing with my mind. If I don't find a way to release some of it I don't know what's going to happen." 

Castiel's hand raises Dean's chin so that they're looking at each other. His eyes scan Dean's face before dropping to look at the rest of him. "You're actions at the hospital seems to have settled your grace for the moment." Castiel's fingers skim across the side of Dean's neck, angling his head up higher, stepping closer. "How would you like to release your grace?" 

Dean swallows, his eyes refusing to leave Castiels. His mind supplies him with more than a few ways to get some form of release and the way Castiels brows furrow ever so slightly is unmistakeable. Dean feels his face heat and drops his forehead onto Castiel's chest with a groan. He swallows again trying to get moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. "I should sleep." He mumbles.

Dean pushes himself away from the angel and without making eye contact walks over to the couch and lays down, pulling the blanket over his head. He holds it over him, waiting as Castiel doesn't fill the silence. Instead, the angel takes one step forwards, stops and then takes five steps back until Dean hears the sound of a light switch and the angel ascends the stairs. Only once he can no longer hear the angel moving does Dean take the blanket from over his head and stares into the moonlit darkness. 

Dean listens to the sound of his own breathing, feeling his eyes slip shut. His mind shifts to thoughts of Sam and it scratches something in his brain to finally be able to freely think and worry about his younger brother. Everything that's happened to him feels like one long fever dream. But now Sam's here, now he has that blinding reminder that shit can go bad real quick, he's never felt more awake. Somehow every decision feels as if its being made for him, he keeps having the same conversations, returning to the same outcome - that Castiel is creating more problems than he's solving - and yet...