A/N: This story is better read with Pat Benatar on the background. Thank you to those who are following and favoriting me and my stories. I love you all. You all deserve to have a little angel in a trench coat by your side.

I don't own Supernatural. We've been through all of this already. Don't make me say it again.

We are young. Heartache to heartache, we stand. No promises, no demands. Love is a battlefield.

"Well, we are not young. We have lived through several millennia. And if someone suffers from heartaches, they should probably go see a doctor. I've been in war and I have witnessed love and they're nothing alike. I don't understand this song. I doesn't seem to make any sense."

"That is because you haven't been in love, Castiel. Maybe someday you'll have the chance to experience such thing. But, even then, you will not feel it as humans do. You see, their own fragility, their own ephemerality, it makes them believe their feelings could endure a lifetime, sometimes that is true, and that could mean eternity. You and I… Well, we know their lives are but a spark, a blink. You must think of it as if you could knit your existence to someone for thousands and thousand of years, share their happiness and pain, every little piece of what makes life. It is something extraordinary."

"But, why compare it to war? You speak of it as the most beautiful thing that could ever exist."

"Because we are not perfect, Castiel. Neither angels nor humans are perfect. Only our Father. And within our imperfections, there might be aspects of us that those who love us find irritating or even annoying. They could love each other unconditionally and still be angry and upset about certain habits or tendencies. That is the war of love, that is the battlefield. To win that war, lovers must see past those imperfections and try to endure them with all the other things that they love. You don't have to love everything about someone, but love the entirety of that person."

"Have you ever experienced it? Love, I mean."

"I'm afraid not. But there is still time for all of us, don't you think?"

Castiel nodded and watched at the colourful outfits that people were wearing. They all seemed excited about something unknown and their music was loud and they all seemed to like to dance. He thought to himself about the oddity of this decade the humans liked to call "the eighties".

"How do you know this song? I thought you didn't like music." Dean turned to look at the angel on the shotgun seat who hummed to Pat Benatar's voice.

"I do like music. I just… haven't had the chance to enjoy it in a long time. And this song reminds me of a friend of mine." Castiel looked through the window into the pitch black night.

"Oh, really? Which friend? Was it a he or a she?" Dean moved his eyebrows implying something that went lost to Castiel, making the hunter sigh. "No, but really. I mean, you never talk much about your friends or anything. I'd like to know."

"Her name was Danielle. She was a seraphim on my garrison before… all this. She liked to visit the rooftops of a little town in Illinois from time to time and, sometimes, she'd took me with her. She said angels should be more close to the people we were supposed to protect, that we needed to get to know them and, maybe, we'd know why God loved you so much. And that that was a way to be closer to Him. She was a good angel and a good friend." Castiel cleared his throat to that last sentence, looking down to his hands.

"What happened to her?"

"She… was killed by Raphael's soldiers on the civil war. She was on my side, of course, and did Heaven a honorable job. She was… still waiting for love."

The car felt silent as Dean turned off the radio. He didn't even dare to look at Castiel by his side.

"I'm sorry, man."

Castiel was sitting on the couch of the bunker, reading a book on ancient Egyptians royal jewelry, when Sam entered the room. He was obviously upset and the angel could only guess it had to be because of something Dean had said or done. Sam fell with a thump on the other side of the couch and sighed heavily.

"Hey, Cas." Sam rubbed his face and looked at the trench coated man.

"Hello, Sam. I guess this is not a good morning for you. May I ask you what did he do this time?"

Sam chuckled a little and shook his head. "He wore my pajamas and then denied it. He didn't even washed them, I mean… Ugh. I put them on last night and they reeked of whiskey and sweat, I went to his room to ask him and he wasn't there. I woke up this morning and told him and he denied it. And I don't even think he's got a hangover. I believe he's still drunk. Why should I put on with his crap? I mean, seriously…"

"Well… you put on with everything because he's your brother. And you love him. Maybe you should lock your door from now on." Castiel's face was serious and Sam smiled widely. The angel had really become a part of his little twisted family and he was glad.

"Wanna get some food?" Sam searched on his pocket and presented with the keys of the Impala, grinning as he put his index finger on his lips and winked at Castiel. "He doesn't have to know… Well, actually, he has to know."

The couple walked to the garage and took off.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon and Dean was bored out of his mind. The three of them -Sam, Castiel and Dean- were on the library doing some research on what they thought could be a mexican variation of a skinwalker, some creature known as "nahual". But since Dean didn't know squat of spanish, the work was being done mostly by his brother.

Castiel was busy trying to construe an old Aztec codex that seemed to be really complicated. Dean was trying not to fall asleep, playing with his pen and note pad. He ripped a page and shattered it to little pieces that later rolled into little balls of paper. And then, he started to throw them to Castiel's face, who jumped and broke his focus on the codex.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam's tone was accusatory and annoyed, Dean shrugged his shoulders and kept throwing the small paper balls.

Castiel stood up and walked to Dean on the other side of the table right after a ball hit him in the eye. "Stop it. Go be useless somewhere else."

Dean frowned and walked out of the room, cursing and mocking the angel under his breath. He shut the door of his bedroom closed and went in for a nap. In the library, Sam looked at Castiel and smiled a little at the upset angel who was trying to remember his way through the codex.

"He's a dick, but you know you love him."

Castiel looked incredulous at Sam and gave some kind of snort that made Sam smile even wider.

"Shit. We have to get you out of here." Sam put his arm on Dean's waist while trying to get out of the warehouse where the nahual was hiding. Apparently, everyone forgot to mention these creatures got their powers of transformation by being powerful sorcerers. And that they could control certain animals, like the enormous serpent that had wrapped Dean and broke at least a couple of his ribs.

Worry and wraith were written all over Castiel's face. He should've know better than to let the boys walk into that place without full knowledge of the monster they were facing, but the stubbornness of the brothers to protect the people of the town was too big to stop. And now Dean was hurt.

Castiel ran back to the warehouse and battled the serpent until it was dead. By the time, the nahual was long gone. He promised himself he would avenge what was done to the hunter as soon as possible. When he got back to the bunker, Dean was laying unconscious on the couch. With two fingers to his forehead, he woke up.

"Holy crap, what was that?" Dean sat and drank the water his brother had supplied.

"I am so sorry, Dean…" Castiel started to talk, embarrassed of being unable to take care of Dean.

"Is it dead?"

"No. He escaped." Castiel was ashamed of himself and his sight was somewhere on the ground.

"S'okay, Cas. Thank you for the healing mojo." Dean smiled at him and the angel looked up. "Maybe next time I should help with the research." He smirked and Sam helped him to his room.

How could someone be so careless about his own life? Castiel thought to himself. Why wasn't Dean even mad at him for letting him get hurt? He certainly was angry at himself and Dean saw it all just as a scratch. Castiel sat in the couch upset and confused. To protect him was his only mission, his only task. And he wasn't really good at it.

Sam came back to the living room and looked at Cas. He seemed troubled and worried. The hunter gave him a pat on the back and sighed.

"He's okay, Cas. Don't worry."

Castiel smiled and realised how bad he was at this whole loving thing. Maybe it wasn't a thing for an angel like him. Maybe Danielle had been wrong.

"When did you know?" Dean looked at the angel at his side who was watching at the starry night outside the car.

"Do you remember that nahual with the serpent that almost killed you?" Castiel frowned a bit.

"Yeah. Was it then?"

"I believe so. What about you, Dean?"

"Well… Remember the time I found out you liked Pat Benatar?" Dean chuckled a little.

"Yes. We were driving this same road. When I told you about Danielle." Cas looked at the older Winchester with a confused look.

"She sounded nice. But yeah, it was that night. Maybe before, but that night I discovered there was probably a tiny chance for you to love me back." Dean sighed and a smile covered his face.

Castiel blushed and gave him a little punch on the arm. The man to his side was annoying, childish, stubborn and right-on crazy… but he was his. And he suddenly understood every word in that song.

We are strong. No one can tell us we're wrong. Searching our hearts for so long. Both of us knowing love is a battlefield.

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Thank you all for reading this. I hope you have an amazing week and I'll be looking forward for your reviews. Now go and listen to Pat Benatar. Now.