Drip. Drip. Drip.
Dean groaned, pressing his face further into his pillow.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The hunter growled, rolling out of bed and storming to the corner of the room. He glared at the leak.
"Glaring at it won't stop it," a voice behind him declared. "Unless you're a psychic. I find that highly unlikely, though." Dean jumped, pulling out his gun. Castiel stood before him, smiling weakly. Dean dropped the gun.
"Cas?" he asked tentatively. The angel nodded. Dean laughed, pulling him into a hug. "Jeez, man." He held Cas at arm's length, studying him. Pale, thin and covered in bandages, but thankfully- blessedly- very much alive.
"You seem concerned," Cas murmured, his piercing blue eyes finding Dean's green ones. Dean's heart stalled, breath hitching as he leant down to meet Cas's lips-
"Noooooo!" Dean sat up with a shriek, the blankets tangling round his legs. Sam stood over him, smirking.
"You were making some very happy noises," he remarked. Dean scowled.
"Out," he ordered. "Get out." Sam laughed. He picked at his sleeve.
"I just thought you'd want to know," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. Dean frowned suspiciously.
"Know what?"
"Cas woke up," Sam looked up, a grin dominating his features. Dean's frown slowly dissipated as he realised he was no longer dreaming. "He's in the main hall." Dean jumped up.
"But," Sam held up a finger. Dean halted, looking confused. Sam gestured to his brother's bare legs. "First, put on some jeans."
------------------------------------------------------
Dean strutted into the hall, hair dripping from his hasty shower. The smell of aloe vera followed him, the result of Sam's insistence on organic washing products. Seven pairs of eyes turned to him.
"You took your time," Meg muttered. Dean shot her a glare, but the demon just shrugged. She sat next to Cas who, like in Dean's nightmare was white faced and shivering slightly. His eyes were sharp, though, observant to the point they rivalled Sherlock.
"Cas," Dean smiled. The seraph returned the smile, one hand curled round a glass of water. Dean grabbed a beer, twisting the cap off and sitting backwards on a chair. He rested his hands on the back. "What's going on?"
"We managed to do this while you were sleeping," Amara grinned proudly. She opened the wooden box on the table. Inside the box was a mound of silvery bullets.
"We melted them down from the angel blades," Chuck explained. Dean whistled.
"Not bad. Now we just need to get one of those stone angel thingies to see if they'll work," he stated. The Doctor sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked exhausted.
"I can help with that," he murmured.
"How?" Sam demanded. The Doctor's eyes hardened.
"By giving them what they want. Me."
A/N: hello my lovelies! I have returned! Sorry I didn't update- I was doing my mocks. Who knew practice exams could be so tense? I've had like no sleep, so I've been pretty emotional. It's quite funny actually. And embarrassing. One minute I'm laughing, the next I'm in hysterics. In the middle of my karate class. Awkward. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. Please votes, comment etc. Love you guys xxx
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Superwholock- Broken Wings
FanfictionSam and Dean hunt the Supernatural. They've seen a lot, but there's always been one thing they know for certain. Aliens do NOT exist. So how do they cope when one turns up in a magic blue box? Who are the ex-army medic and the stuck-up detective? An...