Angel with a shotgun(Destiel)(Sterek)

Following orders

Dean walked down stairs just in time to see Cas appear back in Bobby's living room. He looked tired but not as rough as he had hours before.

"Hey, Cas," Dean stepped into the room, "Where'd you run off to?"

Cas turned. He gave Dean a soft smile, "Just checking in on Stiles."

Dean's brows knit together, "He alright?"

"Yes, he just got in from a hunt," Cas nodded. He felt strange not telling Dean the truth, but he knew Stiles had a better chance of seeing Derek for who he really was if Dean didn't interfere.

"Thanks, man," Dean smiled at the angel. It warmed Dean's heart that Cas cared for his brothers so much.

"Why are you up? I thought you went to bed," Cas glanced at the dark stairs that Dean had come down.

"Couldn't sleep," Dean shrugged.

"Are you concerned about something? I can watch over you," Cas frowned in concern.

Dean chuckled, his eyes dropping to the floor briefly, "No, that's not necessary. Just have a lot on my mind," His eyes looked back up, meeting Cas'.

"I can put you to sleep if you'd like, It's painless," Cas offered next.

"I was actually thinking we could just...I dunno, talk," Dean shifted uneasily in place. He didn't want to just outright say he liked spending time with the angel. He had some dignity after all.

"Of course, Dean, you know I always enjoy our talks," Cas gestured to the couch before taking a seat himself.

Dean held back a grin as he sat next to the angel.

"So I had an idea, I know it's not a good one, but I'm getting desperate," Dean sighed, resting his elbows on his knees.

Cas didn't respond but waited patiently for Dean to continue.

"I was approached by someone yesterday after our hunt. They gave me this," Dean pulled out a small matte black business card, "At first I thought it was blank, but if you look closer, you can see a name and number," Dean handed the card to Cas who took it, inspecting it carefully.

"It just says Crowley, and the numbers six six six," Cas frowned up at Dean.

"I was hoping that meant something to you," Dean sighed in disappointment.

"I'm afraid not," Cas shook his head, handing the card back.

"The guy told me to call the number on here, but it's only three numbers," Dean pointed out.

"Have you tried calling it?"

Dean shook his head, "It's six six six, that screams demonic to me and in my line of work, the likely hood is too great."

"And this bad idea is calling it?" Cas guessed.

Dean nodded. He was sure Cas would give him a lecture on being reckless and not trusting demons, but instead Cas only nodded in agreement.

"It can't hurt right? At least see what they want."

Dean's brows rose in surprise. He hadn't told Sam for fear of him getting mixed up in something he couldn't get out of again.

"True, it's not like I'm making another deal," Dean chuckled gently.

"I wouldn't allow that," Cas said in a serious tone.

Dean was the concerned scowl on Cas' face and couldn't help but smile.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for dragging my ass out of hell," Dean dropped his eyes to the card as he flipped it over and over in his hand.

"I was just following orders," Cas answered simply.

"Yeah, right," Dean's chest constricted a bit at the honesty. He had to remember Cas wasn't doing this for Dean, he was doing this because it was what he felt was right. He had been following orders and nothing more.

"But even knowing what I do now, I'd do it again," Cas smiled slightly at the hunter.

Dean looked up his green eyes meeting Cas' blue ones. Neither one looked away for what felt like ages. Dean couldn't seem to look away from the angel. He wondered what it would be like to find someone like Cas, someone human. Someone who might feel the same way for him as he was starting to for Cas.

Cas' soft look turned to a concerned squint, "Is there something wrong, Dean?"

Dean blinked, averting his eyes, "No, I'm just glad you're here, man," Dean patted Cas' shoulder before standing, "I'm gonna go try and get some sleep. Thanks for talking with me," Dean gave a quick smiled, careful to avoid Cas' eyes again.

"Of course, Dean," Cas smiled as he watched the hunter walk up the stairs.

Dean, who was still holding the business card in his hand, thumbed the edges as he climbed the stairs. It was weird being in one place for so long, but Bobby was insistent the safest place was with him. Cas had put up angel warding as an extra precaution as well.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed he used to sleep in as a boy, still fingering the small black card. He wished he could relive the few good memories he had as a child, before he knew of all the things that went bump in the night. He'd been seven when his dad taught him how to use a shotgun. He'd been eight when he learned how to make a devil's trap. It had scared him. He lied in bed awake at night, his ears listening to any sounds that might have been out of the ordinary. He slept holding his first shotgun, like a teddy bear for nearly two months. Slowly he got used to the idea, until he saw his first ghost. But when he fired the shotgun shell of salt and he watched it disappear, he knew he'd be alright so long as he listened to everything his father taught him. Now here he was twenty something years later and somehow he was more scared than he'd ever been as a child.

He pulled out his phone and pressed the six button three times. His thumb hovered over the call button. Was this really what things had come to? Calling the number of who had to be a demon?

Dean took in a deep breath as he pressed the green button and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" A gruff British voice answered.

"Crowley? It's Dean Winchester."

*AN*
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