Dean stared at the watch on his wrist, the arm resting gently on Castiel's shoulder with his fingertips pressing ever so slightly into the skin, a simple gesture of comfort the man sleeping against him. Dean let out the softest of sighs, reading the time at 4:18 and knowing that they had only a little more time before dawn began to appear and they would have to work.

He shifted a little to get more comfortable, the arm underneath Castiel long since numb and tingling something fierce. He worked it under the man's waist, a burning reaching his fingers when the slight dip where Castiel's stomach met his hip bones providing Dean enough room to let the circulation continue. Castiel stirred just a little before falling back to sleep, and when Dean raised his head enough to look at the man, he found himself frowning at how tired Castiel seemed even unconscious.

They had taken to the ritual of removing Castiel's bandages every night so it wouldn't make the injured soldier feel claustrophobic. It had eased Dean's mind too, as the powerful look of the man now comforted him much more than the scared persona he was always around when the bandages were on. It made him seem older, and when he finally asked Castiel his age, he was surprised to learn that he was twenty-six, four years above Dean.

Castiel flinched in his sleep, pulling Dean from his thoughts as he resumed his gentle stroking along Castiel's shoulders, letting his head rest back down onto the uncomfortable mattress and closing his eyes. He couldn't sleep, but he let his mind wander, only vaguely aware when Castiel's hand rested against the one Dean had on his hips, the thrumming of Castiel's heart picking up catching Dean's attention and open his eyes.

"Are you awake?" Dean asked softly, watching as Castiel gave a soft nod, his shoulder twitching against Dean's touch. Dean slid his arms from the man, sitting up the best he could in the confined space and leaning on one arm, Castiel's air catching his gaze as the man turned in his general direction, staring at him as if he could actually see him, but not at the same time.

"What time is it?" Castiel asked, his voice tired and gravely and it sent a pain straight through Dean's chest as the voice made him shiver, looking down at the watch and staring at the time for several seconds before he actually managed to read it.

"4:21" Dean answered softly, watching Castiel taking a soft breath and let it out in a long sigh before reaching out, his hand moving gently upwards and touching Dean's chest before moving up to settle on his neck.

"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked, obvious worry in his voice as he moved his thumb down just a bit, touching against Dean's collarbone, which was beginning to stick out just a bit more than it should be. 

He had taken to giving Castiel just half of his dinner, then just a fourth after Winters got him alone and berated him for it. The man had been worried about Dean's strange devotion to keeping Castiel safe, and it wasn't until he snapped and threatened that the guards were beginning to notice that Dean became more careful.

Still, he just smiled to himself, mostly for his own comfort as he raised the hand that wasn't supporting him up to Castiel's taking it gently and moving it away from his skin, "I'm fine," He said softly, not wanting to worry Castiel with a little thing like his discomfort.

Castiel was silent for several moments, his face showing how little he actually believed Dean before he rolled onto his back, his shoulder pressing against Dean with what little space they had, "Don't lie to me. You've been taking so much for my sake, so don't you dare lie and say everything is fine," Castiel huffed, the frustration on his face seeming so much more real, so much more alive when Dean could see his eyes, struck by the emotions that played in them so strongly compared to the rest of his features.

"I'm not lying," Dean mumbled back, ignoring the way his spine tingled in the warning that they were being watched. He couldn't move his eyes away from anywhere but Castiel's own gaze.

"I know you've been putting your food in mine," Castiel mumbled and Dean tensed. Castiel sighed, grabbing Dean gently and pulling him down until Dean was lying on top of him, their chests rest together and only Dean's hands resting on Castiel's shoulders kept them apart.

"I-I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to offend you," Dean said, his brows furrowing as he gazed down at the man. Since when did he apologize? The words felt foreign, and it wasn't until Castiel got a small look of satisfaction on his face that Dean's nerves eased a little.

"That's why I've been carrying two bags of sand with each trip so you don't have to do as much work," Castiel responded, catching Dean off guard with his eyes widening in surprise. Still, a small grin was trying to make its way across his face, and he rolled his eyes a little.

"You're a sneaky son of a bitch, you know that?" Dean asked, making Castiel smile, that pleased look on his face brightening his features and making him seem a little less tired, which dean decided suited Castiel very well.

Silence fell over them, and Dean hadn't even realized when Castiel had started stroking his fingers through his hair, only that it made him sigh, leaning into the touch subconsciously as he gave a lazy smile, his thoughts leaving the danger that they were constantly in and focusing on the warmth against his chest and temple.

"Come here often?" Dean asked cheekily, bringing a soft chuckle from Castiel and making the soldier roll his eyes, grabbing Dean and flipping them over, laying his head on the man's chest and closing his eyes, letting out a yawn.

Dean wrapped his arms around the man, a small smile still on his face, only for it to fall as he saw the guard watching them from the dimly lit doorway, his eyes flashing and a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm telling you, I know nothing!" Dean spat for the third time, the chains wrapped around his wrists digging uncomfortably into his skin as he struggled to get out of this chair. They guards had come in early that morning, not even three days after Dean had seen the first guard watching them that night, and he had felt lead sink into his stomach at the thought of what they could possibly want. Still, he had not expected to be interrogated on the army's battle plans of all things.

"You are of a higher rank, are you not?" The interrogator asked, his voice still thick with an accent, but he spoke eloquently, almost as easily as a native English speaker. Dean growled as the man motioned to the two chevron lines that were on his uniform.

"I am only a corporal. I'm not a high rank," Dean growled in response, meeting the man's gaze with a dark glare of his own. The interrogator seemed unbothered by this, though, only turning his attention from Dean when a guard spoke into his ear in soft whispers.

The interrogator turned back towards Dean, his face as blank as ever, "I have grown tired of this game. You have revealed no information that we can use, despite our attempts to be lenient with you. Yet, my guards speak of a...let us say friend, that you take care of," He said, his eyes flashing with a hint of malice before it was gone, but it didn't take a genius to know what Dean was talking about.

"Leave him alone or I'll fucking kill you," Dean snarled, not even bothered by the way the guards bristled at the very words. His hands were clenched tightly, and his heart raced with hatred he felt as the man strode forwards, grabbing him by the hair and jerking it back, glaring down at him.

"We will not do anything to the man. Sometimes accidents just befall the prisoners," The interrogator said lightly, his tone dropping as he let Dean go and took a step back, "Take him back to the cabin."

Two of the guards strode forwards, unlocking the chains and releasing Dean from his bonds, though they watched him with a close eye, and at least one gun trained on him at all times, as they led him from the large building that Dean didn't even know existed, tucked away into a corner by the large wall that covered the entrance of the camp.

The other soldiers who were heading back to their cabins after a long day at work gave him looks of pity, and Dean felt his throat clench when he realized that he wasn't the only one that had been interrogated before, scowling as he fought the urge to just turn on the guards and beat them until there was nothing left.

Yet, there was nothing he could do as he was pushed into the cabin rather roughly, stumbling across the floor but still standing. Winters and Letts looked up from where they sat, though Barneson hadn't seemed to make it back yet.

"Interrogation?" Winters asked, and Dean nodded as the man sighed and shook his head, "They're always interrogating someone. Only ones they don't seem to care about are the lower soldiers. Letts was questioned to not long ago, and he's just a specialist."

"Do they ever stop?" Dean asked before seeing that Castiel looked more tired than usual, his face pale and something was off about the way he seemed to be trying to look as small as possible. It made him worry, and he took a step closer, letting his fingers just barely touch Castiel's arm.

Castiel flinched away like he had been burned, his other arm automatically curling against himself as if it were the only sense of protection. If Winters had said something, he didn't hear as he leaned a bit closer to Castiel, his hand half reaching out.

"Cas? What's wrong?" Dean asked, his voice making Castiel tense. It only took a moment though before Castiel finally seemed to work up the courage to reach out and find Dean's hand, squeezing it as tight as he could and pulling Dean closer gently until he could wrap his arms around him. Dean didn't hug him back, scared to touch him in case something were wrong and instead lightly touched his shoulders, making sure Castiel didn't flinch as he slowly made his way down his back.

Letts' voice is what gained his attention, "He couldn't work well without you there. They beat him something fierce after a bag of sand fell and busted open when he tripped," He cut in and Dean felt his anger boil back up, careful as he finally hugged the man back and pulled him closer, feeling Castiel's nose bury into the side of his neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night was just beginning to fall when he saw the interrogator strode into the room, two guards following behind him with dark grins on his face. The man stood in front of Dean, who was sitting beside Castiel on the small bed as the man slept. He growled, his rage returning as he placed the blame of all of Castiel's injuries on the man.

"You wouldn't give us what we needed, so now you must face the punishment," The interrogator said, a glee in his voice as Castiel shifted behind Dean, obviously waking. The guards stepped forwards, grabbing Dean roughly and dragging him off the bed, making Dean let out a shout as he struggled to get away from them, a snarl on his face.

"Dean?" Castiel called out, worry and tenseness in his shoulders as he shot up, looking towards the noise. The interrogator laughed, reaching out and grabbing Castiel's face harshly, turning it this way and that as Dean struggled against the guards' arms, the pain and disgust on Castiel's face driving more energy into him.

"When the guards had mentioned you having a toy, I did not expect it to be a blind man," The interrogator said with a smirk before throwing Castiel's face away from him and turning back to Dean, who seethed and it was only by the guards' strong grip that he didn't rip the interrogator to shreds right then and there.

"Move him to another cabin," The interrogator ordered the guards before he turned his attention back to Dean, a grin on his face, "I cannot wait to see how your toy holds up without his guide dog around."

Dean snarled, shouted a slur of words as he struggled against the guards as he was dragged out, the other soldiers in the room only able to watch as the only thing that protected Castiel was taken away.