"I swear to god I'm going insane." Dean grumbled as he fell into the chair opposite his brother, "this is so boring I'm gonna end up murdering something." Sam continued his search for information, flipping pages slowly and occasionally scribbling words down in the margins of the book.
"Mmhm." He regarded the oldest Winchester absently. Dean was absolutely baffled how Sam could spend hours (four of them so far) researching the same damn thing. That boy had an attention span the size of Texas.
"Come on, I'm dying of cabin fever here." Dean stood and began pacing again.
Sam shrugged, "You can leave if you want. I only needed you for the first two hours anyway." He abandoned the dusty book, finding nothing, and picked up another with a sigh.
"Wow Sammy, you really know how to charm 'em."
The younger brother let out an amused huff, but he was obviously not in the mood.
"What's up?" Dean continued, his voice taking a more serious tone.
"There's nothing here about falling angels or angel expelling spells. However Metatron did this, it's way beyond our pay grade." It had been a week since 'the meteor shower of the millennia', and they'd been intensely investigating how to reverse the spell, assuming that it's even possible. So far, there have been no hints that the spell even exists.
"Okay. And what's up with you?"
Sam straightened up and made eye contact with his brother, "I'm fine. Really I am. A lot better now that the trials are out of my system." Dean nodded, trying not to look too guilty; right now Sam was being possessed by an angel named Ezekial. He'd been decent enough to let Sam take control of the steering wheel for now so Dean didn't have to deal directly with an angel living inside of his brother. In normal circumstances, Dean would never allow it. But Sam had been dying, and Ezekial had offered, so he took it. What was he supposed to do, just let his little brother die? After all of the things Dean said to him? Hell no. Sam was gonna keep kicking ass no matter what, death be damned.
"Honestly Dean, leave. You're not doing me any favor sitting here and complaining." Sam added, avoiding the not at all suspicious look his brother was giving.
Dean didn't think it was a good idea to leave Sam alone with the angel brigade out for blood, but he was about ready to shoot himself in boredom. "You gonna be okay?"
Sam nodded, already nose deep in the new book, "Yeah totally."
Dean hurried towards the exit in desperate need to be anywhere but the batcave. "Don't wait up." He muttered, swinging the door closed behind him. With the hurried nature of a freed man, Dean started up the impala and drove away. It didn't occur to him until he was on the highway that he had no idea where he was going. The Men of Letters sure knew how to pick obscure hideouts, because there was nothing in spitting distance of the bunker. No clubs, no liquor stores, not even a seedy bar. Good for evasiveness, not so good for entertainment.
The only thing to do was to drive. Soon enough he found a service station. He filled up the gas (though he really didn't need to; his baby could run on empty for hours) and picked up some beer for Sam and him before heading on the road again.
About an hour later, when it started getting dark, Dean switched on his high-beams. Just in time too, because at that moment, a very human looking deer stood twenty feet from the moving impala going 60. Dean swerved, narrowly missing a tree, and slammed the brakes. A smell of burning tires filled the air as he skidded to the side of the desolate road.
"Fucking hell." He breathed, trying to slow his frantic heartbeat. The thing was definitely human, he could see from the silhouette, but it looked extremely familiar. Upon closer inspection Dean could just make out a head of messy black hair.
"Cas?"
The figure turned around to face the hunter.
"Hello Dean."
Dean made a mixture of noises, ranging from surprise to relief, "Holy crap Cas. We need to stop meeting like this; I'm gonna run you over one day."
Castiel was in awful shape. His clothes were a size too big and looked slightly damp, as if he had walked through a rainstorm. Gashes adorned his forehead and his right palm, and his hair was a mess. Gently, Dean pulled Cas to the side of the country road where his car lay, smoking indignantly.
"What are you doing in the middle of the road Cas? You know someone could kill you if they hit you."
Castiel sighed, holding up his injured hand, "I don't seem to learn lessons very well."
Dean inspected the wound. "It's not the worst I've seen. When's the last time you slept?" He asked, bringing the former angel closer to check the wounds on his head. Cas swayed slightly, grabbing onto the hunter's jacket for stability.
"Three days ago."
"Dude," Dean began, ready to reprimand him,
"I can't Dean." Interrupted Cas, "I have nightmares. Sometimes I can't even distinguish that they are nightmares. I used to think there was nothing worse than what I went through. Reliving it every time I close my eyes in much harder."
They both fell into silence, Dean staring worriedly at Cas, and Cas eyeing his wounded hand pathetically, as if sheer force of will would heal it. Dean wanted so much to tell him it was okay, but he knew that wasn't true and he knew Cas knew that wasn't true. Half of heaven wanted his head, and the other half was dead because of him. That's just not something that can be ignored.
As he moved to lean against the hood of his Impala, Dean looked unceremoniously up to the dark grey sky.
"I'm gonna be honest man. It doesn't get any better. The guilt stays, hell it may even get worse. Take it someone who knows." The hunter explained. Cas' face was solemn, and he nodded to himself like he expected as much. The former angel joined Dean, slumping against it mournfully.
"How do you deal with it?" Cas asked, or rather pleaded.
Dean locked eyes with the fallen man beside him. It was a familiar story; Being torn to bits by your own demons, and not the kind you could kill. "You move on. You cope." Dean turned his eyes back to the sky, though he could still feel Cas' gaze on him. "It's bigger than us Cas. You and me, we're generals in 24/7 war. So we take what we can and we run with it. We never stop running."
A moment passed by where nobody spoke.
"Dean Winchester you will never cease to amaze me."
A smile worked its way onto the hunter's face. Suddenly he took Cas into his arms in a soul crushing hug. The stunned ex-angel slowly wrapped his arms around Dean's waist.
"Damn Cas, I missed you." Dean admitted, grasping Cas' flimsy jacket like a lifeline. Hesitantly, Cas reciprocated, resting his head on the leather clad shoulder of Dean.
"I've missed you as well."
Dean's smile widened; Hell might not be closed for business and heaven way be in control of a psychotic hermit, but at least he had Cas.
"Let's go home."
When Dean finally pulled into the driveway of the batcave, a faint snore drifted from the backseat. He looked to see Cas asleep, his body bent into an awkward position. A small smile encroached onto Dean's face; the sight was downright adorable.
It was then when he felt it. Well, felt it again. A growing warmth radiated in his chest, the kind that made it impossible to stop smiling. He had only felt it once before, for Lisa, and even then it was just a small touch of heat. Now it felt like his whole body was a neon sign of heat and light.
"Goddamnit." Dean sighed, turning back around to stare dismally at the dashboard.
Dean Winchester was in love with former angel of the lord, Castiel.
Cas awoke on a(quite uncomfortable) couch surrounded by books and papers tossed haphazardly across the room. He panicked for a short moment, until realizing who he met last night. Upon inspection, Castiel did recognize the interior of "the batcave", as Dean would call it, underneath all of the clutter. But that still did not explain how exactly he got into the building itself; as he recalled, he fell asleep in the Impala, which made him blush a bit. Oh. Blushing was new.
"Dean?" He called experimentally, sitting up. His voice sounded thick and sleepy; despite the fact that he had just woken up, Castiel still felt exhausted. Footsteps sounded behind him, alerting him of another person in the room.
"'Fraid not." Said the voice of Sam Winchester, rounding the corner and coming into view
The ex-angel restrained a disappointed sigh, "You don't seem surprised to see me."
Sam shook his head, "Try last night when Dean brought you in. you scared the crap outta me."
"I apologize, but I was apparently unconscious."
The younger brother laughed, "Man I gotta admit, it's good to have you back." His welcome seemed so casual compared to Dean's.
Where are they?! a voice screeched furiously inside of Castiel's head, making him cringe, Ezekiel if you know where that traitor is and you haven't told us I swear I will flay you!
"Cas?" Sam asked, concerned at Castiel's sudden mood shift, "You okay?"
Patience sister. To my knowledge the Winchesters are in Northern North America. Castiel is yet to be seen.
The irate woman spoke again, yet this time more coolly, We have spies everywhere Ezekiel. If you are helping the like of him, have no doubt that you will meet the same burning fate.
Don't be so skeptical sister, it doesn't become you.
Sam's cheerful pretense had dropped, "Dude what's wrong."
"Nothing. Everything is- I'm okay." Castiel answered once the voices had dissipated, "Where is Dean?"
The youngest Winchester eyed Castiel suspiciously, "I don't know; he just said he was going out. I wouldn't wait up."
This time Castiel did not bother to hide his disappointed sigh.
"Wow Cas. Feeling the love." Sam replied, his playful tone returning.
Cas shot him an apologetic look, "I mean no offense. I just need to speak with your brother." Which was no lie. Castiel needed to work out an evasion plan; while Castiel was willing to help his brothers and sisters, they were not quite so forgiving, as Castiel had just been reminded of. Until they found a way to reverse the spell cast by Metatron, Castiel was at risk, and, consequentially, so were Sam and Dean.
"Mmhm, I'm sure you do," He replied, his expression changing from teasing to sly, "Well I'm going to bed, Dean had me up all night babysitting you."
And with that, Sam was gone, leaving Castiel all to himself in their huge living room.
A comfortable silence fell as the hours went by, one by one. Time had always passed so quickly. It was a suggestion, not a law. But now he was forced to still, to stay in the moment, to live by time's liner rules. If Cas was being honest, he kind of liked the slowness of the atmosphere. It was almost peaceful. That's what really confused him about humans; they were always finding the little mercies in everything. How slowly the clock ticked by or how the weather was just right. The give and take never deterred the completely, as they always find some new way to push through.
Soon hunger, a feeling he had learned he did not like, pulled Castiel away from his thoughts and into a quest to find the nearest kitchen. As he found his way (perhaps getting lost a time or two), Castiel really had a chance to look around the estate. The decorations were orderly yet sparse, and most of the furniture was dated back to the 1920's, if not older. Actually, most of the furniture looked like it hadn't been touched since the 1920's.
Somehow, Castiel found himself in front of the slightly ajar entrance to Dean's room. He made to turn around, but something stopped him. After a moment of puzzlement, he realized that it was curiosity. Wariness accompanied him, firstly because it was such a human feeling, but primarily because he had been told that such a feeling killed cats.
But Dean wasn't home, and Sam had gone to sleep. So, really, what was the worst thing that could happen?
As Castiel looked around, he noticed how much a human's living space described them. On one side of the room, there was a wall which held various weapons. Castiel chuckled to himself; who else but Dean Winchester to have an arsenal of firearms lying idly in their room? The other part of his room had a more personal look to it. Logos formed what Cas recognized as Dean's favorite bands. Books that he'd read in his free time, and what stuck Castiel the most, a picture of Mary Winchester. His heart began to swell at the sight, and he felt himself break into a tiny smile. A warm sort of fuzzy feeling settled its way into his stomach. Now this emotion was definitely new.
Before Castiel could make sense of the new sensation that had overcome him, the door to Dean's room was swung completely open. Standing, propped up on the door frame, was Dean Winchester, staring blankly at the former angel. He looked at Cas for a solid five seconds, as if his brain was taking longer processing the scene before his eyes. Then, much to Castiel's surprise, the hunter burst into a fit of laughter
"Dean?" Castiel asked uncertainly, a bit concerned about his friends mental health
"You." Dean wheezed, "Fucking you, Cas. Oh man I am so fucked." His words slurred together, and he hung onto the door like he would fall flat on his face without doing so. Finally Castiel began to understand.
"Are you drunk?"
Dean laughed again, "Damn straight I am. Don't give me those judgmental eyes. You're the one who was caught snooping in my room."
Castiel flushed, "I wasn't- I was just-"
"Save it man, I don't even care anymore." The drunken Dean took a few unstable steps forward, "You wanna know why I'm drunk right now? Because I'm a fucking idiot, that's why."
Castiel furrowed his brow; what on earth was he talking about?
"And you want to know why I'm a fucking idiot?"
Dean paused, as if waiting for an answer.
"Dean what are you-" Castiel began, but was cut off.
"I'm a fucking idiot because I'm in love with you. Isn't that the stupidest damn thing you've ever heard?"
Once again Castiel experienced the sensation of blushing.
Dean continued his speech, bent on turning Castiel the shade of a tomato, "I love your stupid eyes and your dirty ass trenchcoat. The way your head tilts when you're confused and the gap in your knowledge of pop culture." And then he began laughing again, "Man I am such a screw up. I screwed up Sam, screwed up myself, and now I've screwed up you."
Castiel spoke up finally, interjecting upon the Winchester's rant,
"You did no such thing."
Dean scoffed and tripped his way towards Castiel, now getting approximately around where Dean would classify as 'personal space', "Oh come on Cas, look at you. You were once a high and mighty angelic ass, now look where you are. Just as messed up as the rest of us. Admit it; you were fucked the moment you cherry picked me out of hell. Honestly everyone would have been better off if you left me there."
Those words struck a strange cord in Castiel. Quickly, he closed the small remaining distance between the two, and steadied Dean by grabbing his shoulders. The surprised Dean stared into his opposite's eyes as Castiel began to speak
"Dean Winchester do not ever think you have done anything less than to give me the greatest gift that could ever be received. You gave me freewill, without such I would still be subject to the same blind obedience as many of my brothers and sister were in. Look where that got them." Castiel's tone softened, as did his grip, "Give yourself some credit; you stopped the apocalypse, as well as defeated the Leviathans after recovering brother's soul from hell. As for me, I would much rather be in my current state than, how you so eloquently put it, an 'angelic ass'."
In the moments that passed, neither Dean not Castiel averted their gaze. The atmosphere seemed to shift, and very suddenly Casitel's mouth was very preoccupied with the eldest Winchester's. Emotions reared inside Castiel, too fast to place a name and too strong to ignore. He found himself wanting very much to return the kiss, but a part of his mind reminded him that Dean was not 100% of sound mind, causing him to pull away earlier than he really wished to.
"You need to rest Dean." Castiel spoke softly, though he was reluctant to step away from the embrace Dean held him in. Eventually, the hunter nodded and made his way to his bed, flopping ungracefully onto the mattress. Castiel gave a fond smile and turned to walk away.
"Thanks Cas, for everything." Dean slurred before he began to drift into a drunken sleep, leaving Castiel to think over just exactly what happened.
Drowning in a sea of lava. Being eaten alive by a nest of vampires. Having to listen to Sammy's shitty music for four hours straight. All of the above sounded a hell of a lot better than the situation Dean was currently in. He had woken up with the world's worst hangover. And, if he didn't already want to shoot himself, memories from last night came flooding back to him.
"Fuck." Dean muttered to himself, wanting very much to crawl back into his bed and sleep for the rest of forever. But Sam would come asking questions, and that was the last thing he needed. Finally, Dean dragged himself out of his bed to take a shower. The warm water did little to reduce his crippling headache and urge to vomit. Typical. After drying off and putting on a fresh pair of clothes, he sat down in his room and tried to figure just how deep the hole he dug for himself was. It was easy to cover up kissing someone while drunk; things would be awkward for a week or two, but eventually people forget. But Dean all but asked Cas to marry him. There was really no way to go back from that, but hell if he wasn't going to try.
Dean spent as long as humanly possible waiting in his room, but it was clear he had to face the day. Cautiously he opened the door and looked outside, not very sure what he was searching for, when it became clear that he really could not stall any longer, Dean stepped into the hallway and made his way towards the kitchen, from which the smell of pancakes was wafting.
"Morning sunshine. You look great." Sam joked as Dean entered the room.
"Dude," Dean responded, changing the subject, "did you really make pancakes? Like you cooked them without burning down the house?"
Sam rolled his eyes playfully, "Is it that hard to believe I have some culinary talent?"
Dean shot his brother a suspicious look.
"Yeah, I went out and bought them." He admitted guiltily. Before Dean could get out a snarky reply, the door to the kitchen opened, letting in the last person Dean wanted to see.
"Sam, I need you to-" Cas started, but fell short upon seeing an embarrassed Dean. A few moments of stifling awkward silence followed.
"Well. I'm gonna, you know, be anywhere but here." Sam broke the silence with uncertainty, his eyes bouncing between Cas and his brother as he got up to leave, evacuating the danger zone quickly.
"Hello Dean." Cas spoke by a familiar way of greeting, watching Dean as he began to pour coffee Sam had made.
"Hey," he replied uncomfortably.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Dean sighed and took a large gulp of the black liquid, "I feel like a truck just ran me over."
Cas made an amused sound, "You look like it as well." Dean smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.
"Does Sam know?" inquired Cas, mercifully avoiding the tap dancing elephant in the room.
"About?"
"Ezekiel."
"No," he sighed, "not for now anyway. And how did you know? I thought you were human now."
Castiel moved to sit down at a coffee table in the center of the kitchen, "I am, yet I can still hear angel radio. I heard him talking to the other angels, saying you are all somewhere in Canada.
Dean didn't seem to feel any more relieved.
"Well that's nice of him." He commented as he sat down in the chair opposite Cas
Seconds passed.
"Are you just going to ignore last night's events?" Cas asked with a note of impatience.
"That was the plan."
Cas gave Dean a hurt look and immediately Dean felt guilty.
"Look man, I was just-"
"Was it true?" interjected Cas.
"Well… I mean I was just…" Dean was confabulating now. He couldn't say no without lying and he couldn't say yes without ruining the last bits of respect Cas had for him.
The ex-angel spoke again, gently this time, "Dean?"
"Yeah. Yeah I did,"
More seconds passed.
"I don't know much about being human," Cas began, breaking the silence, "and I know very little about romantic normalcies or emotions in general. I mean I just learned how to use a toaster today. But Dean I think I love you too."
Dean stalled.
"Really?" he asked incredulously, "Oh man that turned out way better than I thought it would."
Cas cracked a smile, but before he could answer, the kitchen door swung open again, letting in a cheerful Sam.
"Are you two done being awkward yet, because I want to drink this coffee before it gets cold."
Dean looked warmly at Cas, who returned it, much to Dean's satisfaction.
"Yeah we're good."
A sudden realization dawned on Dean
"Oh shit." He breathed, standing up out of his chair.
"What?" Sam and Cas responded in unison.
Dean laughed at his own forgetfulness.
"Crowley's still in the trunk."