THE ELEVENTH HOUR [Castiel x F!Reader]

9

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The spirits were sent away, the spell worked. You had to see Y/F/N one final time before they disappeared forever, and it's the least of your problems. Turning, you see Sam fast asleep on the couch, mouth parted slightly as he breathes steadily.

Dean sleeps on the ground beside you, stubbornly refusing to take the mattress Bobby moved into the lounge room. He always lets you have it - as if it'll help you sleep at all.

The mattress beside you dips and you turn to see a figure beside you. Fumbling away, you almost shout, but his hand is placed upon your mouth. It's then that you see it's Castiel, the moonlight shining through the blinds, glinting off his blue eyes. He looks down at his hand, then back up to your eyes, as if asking you to be quiet.

His proximity on the mattress makes you fall into him a little. You don't speak for a moment, you only give him a nod. Slowly, he removes his hand from your mouth. He watches you closely, bringing his hand up to your cheek.

"Cas-"

There's a faint smile on the angels face, "I knew you'd be alright."

All of a sudden, you're both standing in the kitchen across from the lounge room. You gasp, landing on your unsteady feet. You're suddenly prone to the cold, being in shorts and a large shirt. Your gasp wakes Dean. He looks to the kitchen, meeting your calm eyes. The concern on his face melts away. Before he joins you, he checks on Sam, seeing he is still fast asleep.

"Excellent job with the witnesses," Castiel notes, as Dean walks up to you.

"You were hip to all this?" He asks incredulously, shooting him a slight glare.

Castiel ignores the way you look up at him expectantly, "I was, uh, made aware." That's why he came to you. You keep your mouth shut about it, remembering how if he needs to tell the Winchesters something - he will.

Dean scoffs, "Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest. She nearly drowned!"

Castiel turns to you. You meet his uncertain, apologetic gaze, with one of your own, "Nearly."

"I'm sorry," Castiel admits, looking down, "I did what I could."

"I know." You tell him, giving him a small smile. Dean scoffs.

"I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos. Not dicks." Dean sneers at Cas, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dean-"

"What? Suddenly you're buddies with Legion over here?" Dean raises his voice, just noticing your knowing expression.

"No," you roll your eyes at him, "I just think you're kinda acting like a child right now, Dean."

"Oh, come on!" Dean exclaims harshly, turning his body to face you, "All of a sudden you find out that God is real and you're some Sunday Saint?"

You shoot him a look, raised eyebrows and a slight smirk. Where did he get that stupid idea from? "This isn't about God-"

"How can you trust this prick? I thought you were smarter than-"

"You died!" You shout back, frustration matching his. You glance over at Sam, before quieting your voice and taking a step towards Dean, "You're standing right in front of me, Dean. You died right in front of my eyes and I had to live with that, without you, on my own. I... You were the closest thing I had and I lost you, don't act like you don't know what that's like. Cas brought you back, that counts for something here. I trust him."

Castiel feels this weird jolt of energy through his vessel, landing right in his chest when he looks at you. Trying not to show how much Deans remarks hurt you, you swallow the discomfort building in the back of your throat. Dean's anger falters a little when you look at your feet, defeated.