#iwillnothurtdean

"What a crowd we've got here," Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "I'm starting to like this."

It was hot and Dean wanted nothing more than to get home and strip into nothing, then bask in one of the many wonderful creations of humanity, AC. He yawned sleepily and stretched a little as he walked down the street, not immediately seeing the trench coated man standing on the corner. Once he saw him, he had to do a double take. It wasn't Lirim, he was still in Louisiana with Ailbe as far as he knew. And Lirim wouldn't be caught dead in a trench coat in this heat. He stopped walking, moving, stopped breathing. All he could do for a long moment was stare. This wasn't Lirim. One name slid into his mind and it slid through his lips in a whisper. "Castiel." His savior and guardian. The reason his father had finally stopped beating him when he was twelve. He carefully walked to him and looked at him closely. "Castiel?" he asked softly, putting his hand on the other's shoulder gently. He had to ask. At least the guy felt solid, felt real.