Things hadn't worked out with Lisa.
Dean knows this. Although Ben is fantastic, Lisa beautiful and his life then was damn near perfect, it just wasn't working. There had been a hunting shaped hole left in Dean's perfect little apple pie life, that no amount of work on the Impala or games of baseball in the back yard could fill. The hole had deepened into an ache, and this had bled through, until there was no aspect of Dean's life left that he could enjoy. Lisa had noticed, tried to understand, but no amount of sympathy or distraction could take the dull ache away.
This was why, when Dean left to look for Sam, and eventually found him, restored his soul, and went back to his old hunting ways, he didn't go back to Lisa. He figured it was because he was just bored of the 'normal' life. It had always been more Sam's thing to go settle down, and Dean had his brother back. He had all the family he needed. When Castiel fell, they were more than happy to take him in, and so their family grew. Dean had the best of both worlds- a family to fight for, and plenty of hunts to go on. The Men of Letters Bunker was a haven, damn near the closest thing to safe that any of them would ever get, and the closest thing to home since Bobby's.
When the Angels fell, it had been Hell on Earth, quite literally, for about a week. The Demons took the closure of Heaven as a victory, huge numbers of them coming out of hiding, and killing simply to satisfy their blood-lust addled minds. Back then, Dean and Sam had been fighting non-stop for periods of up to six hours straight, and having to sleep in short shifts, one on watch as the other tried to put off the always lingering exhaustion for just a few more hours. It had reminded Dean of the Croatoan Virus that he had seen in full action when Zachariah sent him to the future. It was kill or be killed, unlike anything they had ever seen.
Going back to 'saving people, killing things' proved to be a bit of an anticlimax.
"How long do ya reckon until we've ganked every one of these bastards?" Dean asks around Sam as he loads the back of the Impala with the last of the equipment that they'll need for their next hunt; a plastic gasoline canister filled with Dean Man's blood. Vamps, Dean thinks, are a piece of cake. Compared with Leviathans, or Crowley (who had since gone into hiding, still a Demon, maybe not quite still King of Hell, if Abbadon has had anything to say about it. Dean has been trying his best to avoid the general Demon population as of recent.) anyway.
"Since when has there been an end to all this to you?" Sam asks smiling, and turns to face Dean. "What happened to 'Oh Sammy there's no way out for me?" He teases, and Dean quickly remembers why he didn't have this conversation with his brother sooner. He takes a deep breath to try to keep calm, and Sam just grins at him.
"Nah, I'm not looking for an end. Hell, I think I'd kill myself if there was nothing left to hunt." Dean says seriously. "Y'know, after the Apolcalypse, the Leviathans, Purgatory and god-damn Hell before all that... I can't think of anything that could top Hell Sam. This, what we're doing now, is boring, okay? It's boring and I'm tired and honestly, listening to Cas spew his bullshit about the patterns of flowers seems more appealing than hunting those Vamps tomorrow."
"Well you always could stay here, guard the bunker? I think Garth is nearby and-"
"No I don't want to stay behind, Jesus Sammy, and I wouldn't trust Garth alone with you for a few minutes, let alone a Vamp hunt. I don't want to stop hunting." Dean was confusing himself now, and Sam looked almost completely lost, but was obviously trying to come up with some form of psychological profile to file away into his 'Why Dean is insane and is in no way fit to have anyone around him ever' folder in his mind. Dean is certain that Sam has files on everyone, ready to whip out at any moment to use to his advantage to get Dean to discuss 'feelings'. Or to get him to admit to secrets, such as killing Sam's flesh eating monster of a childhood crush.
"It could be that you've just become desensitised?" Sam suggests, then furrows his eyebrows "Well, even more than you were before." Dean just shrugs.
"I could destroy anything at all that came at me now, anything we know of. We've got the gear, we've got the stuff, Cas's got the knowledge. We're Gods now man, and I'm not sure if I like it." Sam closes the Impala's boot with a shrug.
"You'll get back in the swing of things soon, it's been a while since things were so normal." The trees rustle as Sam speaks and damp leaves are kicked up by the breeze. The noise is comforting, familiar. The sounds of the outdoors and the approach of fall.
The sky has begun to darken, and they've yet to eat anything this evening, so Sam and Dean begin to make their way towards the bunker. As they get close to the door it swings open, and Castiel staggers out, holding two bottles of beer by the neck in one hand. He's not drunk, Dean notes, probably hasn't even started drinking yet. He's just a bit wobbly on his feet sometimes, and it's a little endearing.
Cas is currently dressed in a mix-and-match of both Winchester's clothes: Dean's jeans and t-shirt, and Sam's brown jacket. The trenchcoat had proven to be too heavy and restricting for a human during fights, especially when Castiel was just getting used to being human. It started off with him sleeping in Sam's t-shirts, and 'borrowing' Dean's jeans (and underwear) for a week. None of them saw the point in buying anything that wasn't essential, and if Castiel minded wearing their clothes, he hadn't said anything.
Still, the dude deserved some clothes that actually fit him, so the next time that they drove past a mall, or a town that looked like it may have somewhere that sold clothes, Dean was going to make sure that at the very least they got Cas some of his own underwear.
"Hello, Dean, Sam." Castiel greets the two, and holds out the drinks. Sam shakes his head, and Dean takes one with a smile. "It's getting colder, soon it'll be winter." Castiel sniffs, using his free hand to wrap Sam's jacket tighter around himself. Taking the hint, Sam leads the three down the steps and into the slightly warmer bunker.
"See you two later, I'm off for some 'alone time'." Dean winks, raising his beer to Cas and Sam. This is his 'rest time', and Dean'll be damned if he isn't going to make the most of it. Mundane as Vampires are, you've still gotta be fully rested before even considering going on a hunt.
In his room, Dean sighs, flicks on the light, and sits down onto his bed. He feels frustrated with himself for not being able to just buck up and get on with the job without bitching and whining about it. He's not even worried about Sam getting hurt anymore. Everything seems as if it's completely in his control.
In purgatory, Dean had control. Demons, he could control. Everything else, he could kill. Angels though, Angels he couldn't have ever even hoped to control. Not when they had some magical ability of knowing exactly where you were, and could kill with a touch (or click of the fingers), when they could prance between Heaven and Earth whenever they felt like it. Well, they used to be able to do all that. Stupidly over-powered dicks that they were, Dean had to admit that they were cool. Even Cas, when he went all 'crazy God Angel', had the ability to be just a little badass. The smiting especially.
Castiel now... was not quite so impressive. There used to be times when Castiel would be so angry, a few years back this way, that Dean could actually taste the supernatural energy surrounding the Angel, like static heavy in his mouth. Castiel had been menacing, he could have killed anyone with a flick of the wrist. When Castiel had become 'God', it had been incredible to watch. In the back of his mind, Dean knew that it was wrong, perhaps a little sick, to find the fact that Castiel could destroy the entire Earth without a second thought entertaining, but didn't care to question or correct himself. Dean knew that he cared about Castiel, perhaps even more now that he was human, but that was back when he had been a dick and could have just bought himself back if he died anyway.
As a human, Castiel was just depressing. He generally spoke even less than he had done as an Angel, unless it was about one of the few topics he enjoyed, such as botany, literature and anything biblical. He had the emotional control of a child for the first few weeks of his humanity. Sam admitted to catching him crying in frustration a couple of times when the 'leads' in a hunt were not leads at all, and Dean had been the focus of many of Castiel's furious and rather violent outbursts. He would hit and shout and throw books, and usually ended up going to Sam's room and reading with him. After a while the anger subsided into a quiet guilt, and Sam had told Dean that he was pretty sure that Castiel is depressed, but Dean doesn't particularly care; you do what you do and if you can't take the consequences it's your own damn fault.
They take Cas on hunts, of course they do. He still has all his knowledge of biblical beings, and that has been proven to be useful multiple times. Although no one trusts him enough with a gun to use it, as Dean had put it, 'out on the field', he isn't all that bad with a knife. It's nice to have an extra hunter on the team, one that they could trust. Since Castiel couldn't use his angel-mojo to zap around meeting up with anyone shady (Crowley or Naomi for example) anymore, Dean knows that the only people Cas is around are himself and Sam.
Images of hunts filter in and out of Dean's mind, as he tries to pinpoint the exact point that hunts stopped appealing to him. He can't even remember the last time that a hunt felt like he was actually helping someone, rather than being pest control or just getting some more innocents killed.
Dean groans and hangs his head in his hands, just as there's a small knock at his door.
"Dean? I'm not er, interrupting anything am I?" Sam is in the doorway, smiling easily. Dean shakes his head a little and huffs out a small laugh. Even to him is sounds a bit forced. "Cas says that he was gonna cook, but we're out of anything we can actually use for anything, so you reckon I could take the car to get us some food?" Dean's stomach threatens to rumble at the thought of fresh home cooked food. Sure burgers and fries were great, but sometimes a man wants steak, or actual vegetables. Dean never thought he'd see the day that he'd be craving vegetables.
Dean slides to his feet. "Yeah go for it, but don't you hurt my baby," He warns jokingly,"Cas going with you?" Sam shake his head, trying to keep the smile in his eyes from getting to his mouth.
"Nah, but he told me exactly what kind of honey we need to get, and told me he'd know if I lie to him."
"Honey? Dude, I thought we agreed, cheap and necessities only! Plus why would we even need honey? What's Cas gonna do, pour it down himself and lie on the Impala?" Sam's smile does reach his mouth, but Dean can't find it in him to be annoyed that his brother's laughing at him. Seeing Sam smiling is something Dean will never tire of.
"It's not really that expensive. And you know Cas likes it." Sam lowers his voice, "It's a good thing that he's actually even eating." Dean sighs at this; again with the 'Castiel is depressed, Dean, most of his family are dead, you need to let him breathe' spiel.
"Fine, but seriously Sammy, don't just wait on the guy hand and foot. Dude needs to learn to survive in our world, and that means no goddamn honey." Dean brushes past Sam, frustrated for reasons unknown, and makes his way to the kitchen.
In the kitchen Castiel is leaning against the gas oven, bent over a slightly dusty looking cookbook. He looks up when Dean enters, unperturbed by Dean's stormy expression. Sam follows, looking slightly embarrassed, Castiel notes. Perhaps they had fought, he thinks.
"I'll be back soon then." Sam says, clapping his hands together, which makes Castiel jump slightly. Dean opens his mouth but Sam waves him off "Yes yes, I'll look for pie, but no promises." He gives Castiel a wink, and Dean looks between the two suspiciously. Despite their initial differences, Sam and Cas have seemed to form a 'nerds only' club together, which suited Dean just fine. It stopped them from whining at him constantly, at the very least.
Dean gives Sam a double thumbs up as he snatches the Impala's keys from Dean and pockets them before the elder Winchester can come up with any objections. Cas looks up from his book and gives Sam a small smile in farewell as he turns and makes his way out of the bunker. Sauntering over to Castiel, Dean sticks his hands in his pockets and bends forwards over the book, trying to read it upside-down.
"What'cha planning on cooking?" Dean asks, and Castiel looks up cooly. The staring is even worse with Castiel as a human. Dean thinks that it must be because there is once again a human soul behind Jimmy Novak's eyes. Emotions flicker across Castiel's face, before they settle on a soft amusement. Everything Castiel does now is soft, gentle. Similar to how he was when powerless after trying to fix Sam, just a little more... sane.
"I can't decide on a main meal, but there are a few pie recipes in here, the apple one I was considering, but it needs honey, and I'm not sure if I asked Sam for some." Castiel closes the book and sets it on the counter beside him with a small sigh. "He would probably get the wrong kind anyway, and I'm not sure what beekeepers are nearby, or if they would sell me any at this time. Plus the weather hasn't been all that good recently and with Fall approaching it-" Castiel cuts himself off quickly and looks down to his hands, wringing them sheepishly. "Sorry. I ramble."
"No man, it's uh, good to hear you talking. Even if it's about bees." Dean shook his head slightly "Just keep your clothes on this time, yeah?" Castiel frowned at this, still not being quite sure about the ins and outs of human humour and it's many sub-genres. No matter how many times Dean had told him about it, Castiel couldn't ever remember turning up naked anywhere on Earth recently. Especially not covered in bees.
Castiel had learnt that kitchens were not the place that was socially accepted to have conversations in, not that the Winchesters were particularly good tutors for what was considered 'socially acceptable', so began to make his way into the library, gesturing for Dean to follow.
The two men walked in comfortable silence to the library, where there were old VHS tapes littered across the table, and a pile of books that Dean assumed were Sam's. Castiel settled into a chair and grabbed one of the tapes, turning it over in his hands absentmidedly. Dean noticed some new books in a shelf, Sam, and walked over to inspect them.
"Sam was talking to me earlier, while you were in your room." Castiel breaks the silence, and Dean turned from the shelf he was studying. "About you."
"Usually you don't tell people if you're talking about them behind their back, y'know?" Dean said awkwardly "Unless Sam's planning to kill me in my sleep or something, then you tell me."
Castiel ignored him.
"We came up with a theory." Setting down the tape, Castiel stood up. "Sam's worried about you." Dean rolled his eyes.
"When isn't he worrying about anyone? Gonna give himself a brain tumour." He tried to joke, but Castiel was making his way towards him, and the comment hung thick in the air.
"Dean." Castiel said, walking up into his personal space, "I'm worried about you."
Forcing himself to bite back a 'since when do you care?' Dean pressed himself back against the bookshelves. Castiel followed.
"Yeah, well don't. I'm peachy." The convincing tone that Dean had aimed for didn't quite work out as his voice wavered slightly as Castiel pressed in closer, blocking out the dim, artificial light cast from the lights behind him. "Cas?"
"Sam said that you have too much control." Castiel tilted his head, and the change in angle caused light to filter around his hair, creating a dull halo. Dean swallowed visibly. "I think it would be in your best interest to note that right now, you do not have any control."
Castiel bought one hand to Dean's jaw, and suddenly Dean felt much smaller and his clothes much tighter, restricting his breathing. In Sam's oversized jacket, Castiel appeared broader than he actually was, and the hand holding his face in place didn't shake or tremble. Dean blamed that on Castiel's thousands of years of stoic emotionless existence, because right now Dean's legs were threatening to shake like a girl's at the intense look Castiel was giving him.
In a smooth, quick movement Castiel slid his hand from Dean's jaw to the back of his neck, and pulled him close to press their lips together. Dean was not like Meg, his lips were not wet and kissing back, they were dry, but warm, and not really doing all that much. Stepping closer so that he had a leg inbetween Dean's, Castiel brought his other hand onto the back of Dean's head, combing through his hair.
Dean looked more confused than anything, so Castiel licked his lips and revelled in the faint taste that was not his own, before kissing Dean again. This one was much more like Meg, or the Pizza-Man, and Castiel supposed he could work with that. He pressed Dean up against the shelf with his body, and was surprised to feel the reactions that the other man's warmth had set off within his chest. When Dean made a soft noise and gently tried kissing back, Castiel remembered what Sam had said about control and power. Dean liked him because he used to be able to leave him bloody in a matter of moments and Castiel could walk away completely unharmed. The 'beating to a pulp' technique was the second plan, but as Sam had explained, there is more than one way to dominate someone. So Castiel tugged Dean's head back by his hair to look him in the eyes.
"I may not be an Angel any more Dean, but I am perfectly capable of destroying you." Castiel lowered his head to bite at Dean's neck, causing Dean to jump and his hands to come up and wrap around Castiel.
The fluttering sensation of his elevated heart rate caused Cas to gasp against Dean's neck, and in response Dean rolled his hips, sparking off warmth in Castiel's stomach. Keening slightly, Castiel sought Dean's lips, biting, licking and huffing out air as he was pulled closer, almost onto his tip-toes. It wasn't until he felt a hand tugging slightly on his hair that Castiel realised he had began to lose control of the situation. He was about to rectify this, tell Dean this was to help him get better and because they need him, when Dean began to mouth along his neck, nipping and sucking gently whilst carding through Cas's hair with one hand and holding him place by his hip with the other.
"Dean, I-" Castiel gasped, the gritted his teeth at his weakness to his human body and it's erogenous zones. "I could still crush you." He let his eyes flutter shut as Dean moves sideways, lips now on his, and reverses their positions, Castiel now pressed up against the shelf.
Dean considers pinning Castiel's arms above him, and completely taking him apart. The tiny, rushed gasps that Castiel makes as he struggles to get air into his lungs and Dean bites and kisses tells Dean just how easy it would be. He draws back slightly, to get a good look at Castiel's face, his eyes mostly closed, lips red and gleaming and a faint blush dancing across his cheeks. After a few panted breaths he opened his eyes fully and met Dean's gaze.
"Don't forget Cas, I could crush you too." Dean said lowly, brushing hair from Castiel's slightly sticky forehead. Sliding that hand round to the back of Castiel's head Dean gave a gentle pull and was about to follow the movement with the rest of his body when a loud metallic clang from within the bunker, followed by a "Guys, I got burgers!" interrupted them.
Castiel, much to Dean's horror, straightened up, pulled away from him, then walked towards the main area, probably with all intent to go have his burger. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him back a little.
"Dude, you, uh" Dean coughed, trying to get his voice back to it's normal tone "you can't go to the kitchen like that."
Castiel looked down at himself, and then back up to Dean.
"I'll be fine, it will go away. Anyway, Sam helped make the plan, I'm sure he'll understand."
Dean spulttered.
"What, Sam told you to do that?" He asked incredulously. Dean knew that Sam knew that Dean was confused as hell over Castiel and just what makes him so special, but if Dean hadn't known that it was because he apparently had a massive thing for angels/ex-angels with stupid voices and no sense of personal space, then how the hell could his idiot brother have known?
"Not exactly. I believe his words were 'Just make sure that 'beating Dean to a pulp' is option number two', and so I devised my own option one." Castiel shrugged "Sam seemed to be okay with it."
Dean blanched as he tried to ruffle his hair into a more 'natural' style. Great. Just great.
Putting on his best 'nothing happened' smile, Dean made his way into the main room, calling "Hey Sammy, get any pie?"
Castiel followed suit, silently thankful for Sam's large size so that he could hide beneath his jacket, as his heart didn't seem to want to stop doing flip-flops in his chest and he could feel the burn of Dean's teeth along his neck and against his lip.
"No, but I got some apples, crappy honey, flour and eggs so Cas can bake you one fresh, how about that?" Sam replied as he walked into the kitchen to begin unloading the shopping bags "Burgers and cookies are on the table. Real food in the fridge."
Dean and Castiel sat at the table and made a start on their dinner, as Sam finished tidying up. When he returned he looked between the two, eyes lingering on the red marks on Dean's neck, before grinning.
"So then, next test is to see if Castiel is as just as dominating in the kitchen as he is in the bedroom." Sam smiled, taking a bite of a cookie.
"It was the library." Castiel corrected.
Dean choked on his hamburger.
