Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine.
Summary: Sam Winchester is missing and Castiel needs to know why.

Sam Winchester is missing and Castiel needs to know why.

He has seen artwork of ghostly figures hovering benevolently over children, but those apparitions do not resemble him or his vessel, and his regard for Dean Winchester is becoming less protective than...possessive.

His borrowed eyes travel Dean's length from boots to pillow; Dean's human scent is muted, spicy, leavened by sweat that beads on his brow. Castiel moves to the head of the bed and examines Dean's face, his lashes, his mouth.

Dean shudders in his sleep.

Castiel drags in a breath. Dean must deal with his memories, bring them into the light, but he's suffering now, and Castiel cannot resist his silent cry of pain. He bends down and touches Dean's forehead--a mere brush of his fingertips across the damp skin--and Dean relaxes with a low exhalation that billows against Castiel's face. Dean's freckles dance in his eyes. He straightens and moves away from the snare of Dean's warmth, his smell, his blazing, blighted soul.

On the opposite side of the bed he feels(SAFE)in control again. Dean will wake soon.

Castiel sits on the edge of the bed, and waits.