Late Night Hunting

Chapter 9: Darkness

Running. That's what Cas had been, and was still doing, for as long as he could remember. He was being chased by a giant black hellhound, but no matter how fast or far he ran, the mammoth-like, red-eyed beast still kept chasing him. After a few more minutes, Cas looked back and shuddered, closing his mouth to swallow the scream that was building silently in him as the huge canine chasing him was about to clamp down on him and tear him to shreds, it's gigantic mouth throwing spit everywhere with crimson eyes gleaming. He could just feel it's hot breath on his back as he closed his eyes and sprinted as hard as he could. But it wasn't enough. He opened his eyes after he felt the ground disappear from under him and found that his arms and legs were churning in open air. He was falling, falling, falling, and kept on going until he woke up with a gasp, covered in sweat, to find that he was still in the motel room he had come with Dean to yesterday. Sunlight filtered in through the mostly closed blinds on the windows, making him blink and rub his eyes, turning slightly away from the too-bright light of the sun. He took a few moments to breathe, taking quick, shallow breaths at first, but slowly getting his breathing back to normal. He closed his eyes with a sigh, gently leaning back on the headboard and counting to 10 before opening his eyes and looking over to where the nightstand was. The clock on top of it read 11:49. He looked over at Dean's bed and was slightly worried when he saw that he wasn't there. It looked empty, the sheets spread abstractly across it and clumped together in some places. But wait....why was one moving slightly? He smiled and shook his head, realizing that Dean was sleeping under the mess of blankets. He slowly made his way over, a small smile on his lips when he saw Dean lying there on the bed, snoring away while his right arm was hanging off the bed. Cas walked over to the bed carefully and knelt next to his best friend, who had the cutest look on his face. Wait. Did he really just freaking say that Dean had a cute sleeping face?! I'll have to admit my feelings to him sooner or later, he thought, frowning in thought. He took another look at Dean's face and sighed quietly, shaking his head before noticing that Dean, somehow, had no shirt on under the blankets. He also didn't know that Dean was actually awake and had been since he heard Cas wake up gasping. He smiled slightly, his eyes closed, as he thought of what Cas would say if he knew how Dean felt about him. Meanwhile, Cas had been debating internally on whether he wanted to run a hand over Dean's perfectly toned and sculpted face, even if only for a millisecond. Then he snapped out of it. Of course he was going to do it! But before he could run his hand over Dean's face, he couldn't help but think of a line from a song he'd heard recently and also really liked. It was called Colors by Halsey, and the line he liked the most was "You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece." He thought that it described Dean perfectly, at least in his eyes. He tentatively reached out a hand and touched Dean's face softly for about 5 seconds, then quickly brought his hand back when Dean twitched. He backed away and stood up, gently shaking Dean by the shoulders and saying "Dean, wake up. It's almost 12!" Dean groaned, opening his eyes and stretching his arms behind his head. Cas marveled silently in his mind at Dean's beautifully emerald-and-lime-green eyes and blondish-brown hair in the early morning sunlight. He broke out of his stupor and said "Morning, sleepyhead. Any idea what you want for breakfast?" Dean looked at Cas in surprise. "I didn't know you could cook, much less make something for my sorry ass." Cas looked at Dean, a grin plastered all over his face. "Just tell me what you want, ya goofball." It felt good to smile again in spite of all the events of yesterday. Dean sighed and smiled. "You treat me way too well, you know that? Oh well. Since you're offering, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and french toast. Oh and some coffee too, please. Black, like my soul." Cas just rolled his eyes and said "Coming right up." Dean smirked, then said "Well, I need a shower. I'll be back out in around 20 minutes." Cas nodded his head, going over to the fridge and grabbing the eggs, toast, bacon, and all the other ingredients he needed. He made the french toast first, so that the eggs and bacon would have a bit more flavor than normal. Then he made the bacon and eggs. He put the coffee on and then set all the food on 2 large plates and sat them down at the skimpy motel dining table. He heard the Keurig stop brewing and went over to grab Dean's coffee and set it on the table before grabbing himself a chilled Starbucks Coconut Mocha out of the fridge, which he knew was Dean's second favorite type of coffee. Cas could never seem to find that kind, so he made a mental note to ask him after he'd gotten out of the shower. He heard the bathroom door open and looked up, which was a huge  mistake. Dean stepped out, only a towel wrapped around his waist. Cas's eyes widened and, while blushing profusely, he quickly whipped around and pretended like he was fixing the tablecloth while his reddened face slowly went back to it's normal color. He said without turning around, "B-breakfast's r-ready, Dean.", then cursed under his breath when he stuttered, but he just couldn't get the image of Dean's rugged chest out of his mind. He shook his head and turned around. Dean was coming toward him with a confused look on his elegant face. "You okay Cas?" he asked, looking at Cas with concern in his eyes. "Did you have another nightmare last night?" Cas looked at him and nodded. "Yeah, but this one was.... Different somehow. Darker, more sinister." Dean stared at him with a peculiar look on his face, like he wanted to cry or scream or maybe even punch something but didn't want to show it. "Well, I hope you enjoy breakfast." Cas said, curious. "Oh definitely! It looks amazing. Thanks, Cas. I really appreciate it." Dean smiled at him and sat down, looking at everything while his stomach grumbled slightly in anticipation. He took a bite of french toast and groaned. "Is it that bad?" Cas asked, ashamed. "No! No, not at all Cas! It's just that this is the absolute best french toast I've ever had!" Cas's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. "I- you- but.....Really?" he spluttered in shock. "Of course! I could marry you, you're cooking's so good!" At this, Cas blushed slightly and began to eat the food on his plate, glancing up at Dean every once in awhile, as if to make sure he was still there. Dean noticed that Cas kept staring at him but didn't mention it. He didn't want to make a "mountain out of a molehill", as the old saying went. After they were both finished, Dean said "Man. That was the best breakfast I've had in I don't know when. Thank you, Cas. You didn't have to do any of this, yet you did anyway. Oh, by the way, you can keep the shirt if you want. It's too small for me, and Sam doesn't want it." Cas looked at him appreciatively and said "Thanks. Do you mind if I keep here for whenever I come over?" Dean smiled at him. "Sure, leave it in the second drawer when your clothes are out of the washing machine. I put them in there earlier." Then he muttered something along the lines of "My uncultured swine of a brother doesn't like AC/DC. It's disgusting...."  Cas heard him and gave a small chuckle, knowing how much Dean loved the old Classic Rock bands. "So, you ready to start doing research?" Cas asked, wanting to start getting to work. It was already 1 PM and he wanted to get to work before the sun began to dip in the sky. "Whoa there, tiger! What about this latest nightmare?" Dean asked, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to him . That reminded Cas that he hadn't told Dean about the horrific dream from last night. Cas walked over and sat down next to him, sighing. "Now start from the beginning," Dean said. "Try to remember everything you can." He racked his brain, searching for every little detail he could remember. Then it all came flooding back, and he began to retell all that he remembered.