The Bodyguard (is the Omega)

10.

"Thought you'd be able to keep up," Dean called out over his shoulder.

Castiel had been in the middle of a fitting for his Oscars suit (the event was black tie and with all the running he had been doing, Castiel needed a new fitting) when Dean barged into the room and declared he wanted to go for a run. There had been no time for Castiel to return to his cottage and put on sensible clothes. So he changed out of the new suit that was being tailored and went in his usual charcoal suit, with the $90 dress shoes. If they got scuffed, he was going to bill Dean for it. Or better yet, just turn up in worn shoes to Dean's big night. Castiel knew the thought was petty but Dean was doing this on purpose. He bounced ahead of Castiel, veering off the bitumen, darting into the scrubs to follow deer tracks. Which meant deer poop. Castiel hadn't explored this part of the grounds much before, it was too isolated and wild to ever be made completely safe for Dean to hang around in. Dean kept running and Castiel kept having to chase after him. At the gate, Dean turned around and hesitated. Castiel shook his head, he wouldn't dare. Dean smirked and high tailed it right through the gate as the tailoring van left. Castiel curse low under his breath and ran after him.

Part of the parks, this area of the Hollywood hills was open on all sides to preserved forests. The morning mist hung low and thick, Dean kept disappearing in and out of the white fog. Castiel wasn't sure he was comfortable having Dean run here even with him tagging along. Dean could trip, or run off an embankment, or end up flat on his back pinned by the shoulders when Castiel caught up with him.

There was a yelp, it came from up ahead. Castiel assessed the situation, he hadn't heard any cars, so whoever got Dean to make that sound was on foot. He didn't know how many there were, but they were about to have a terrible morning. Castiel drew his gun, carefully approaching, then he heard the sound of scrambling and running.

"Cas, don't shoot!" Dean came out of the scrub, limping, with his hands up.

Then the hooves became deafening as a herd of deers took fright and charged right past Castiel. Castiel tucked his gun back inside his jacket.

"I think I twisted it," Dean hopped on his left foot. "There was a baby deer and I was look at it and then the mom came and I got startled."

"Stop talking, you're hurt," Castiel supported Dean on his shoulder and helped him sit down on the ground. "Straighten out your leg."

"I can't," Dean grunted. "Never have been straight, legs or anything. Born this way baby."

Castiel rolled his eyes, hands clasping Dean's ankle. "It's dislocated. Want me to pop it back in?"

"No!" Dean grabbed Castiel's hand. "Are you crazy, you're not a doctor."

"It's better for the injury if I pop it in, alphas heal fast, you don't want to limp for the rest of your life do you?"

"Yes, yes I do, what kind of savage are you," Dean berated Castiel.

"Fine, if you insist on being ridiculous about it," Castiel made as if to get up. Dean exhaled with relief and Castiel took the split second opportunity to grip his thigh with one hand and push his foot with the other.

The birds flew out of the trees at the sound of Dean's howling.

"Always figured you'd make me scream but that's not exactly how I imagined it would happen," Dean said bitterly, climbing to his feet. He was able to walk on it now but he winced and complained for the next half mile.

Castiel draped Dean's arm over his shoulders, taking some of the weight for Dean. Dean's mouth was a little close to his earlobe, his cheek kept grazing along Castiel's temple.