DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural. I wish I did. Or at least had a joint-custody agreement and got to spend time with it every other weekend with supervised visitation. Oh well…

This story is really mushy. I don't really know – I mean, I could've made this really silly if I wanted to but I really enjoyed the idea of the mushiness and the brotherly confiding.

SPN Crack Day 3:

Word: Old

Pairing: Dean/Cas; references to Sam/Jess

Rating: PG [brief language]

Setting: Somewhere in Season 5 [Castiel is almost totally mortal, so mid-season ish?]

Sam watched from his hiding place just beyond the doorway as Dean took care of the wounded Angel on the bed in one of Bobby's spare rooms.

Is he even an Angel anymore? He seems to be more and more mortal as the days go on.

His older brother was being exceptionally caring as he bandaged the smaller man's wrist. He even paused with every wince or whimper of pain from his Angel.

Since when was Castiel Dean's Angel?

The oversized hunter continued to spy on his brother, his interest in the situation mounting with every second. Dean was staring at Castiel, his eyes shining with – love?

They rose from the bed in unison, never breaking their gaze as they stood there.

Castiel gave a barely-there smirk as Dean's rough thumb brushed lightly across his knuckles, the closest that the older Winchester brother would ever get to displays of affection.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, alerting the two to his presence and to the fact that they were gazing into each other's eyes like a pair of lovesick owls caught in a never-ending staring contest. "Guys?"

He saw the muscles of Dean's back and shoulders tense in response to the sudden noise and Dean's green eyes shut tight in a wince as he realized his baby brother was watching him. A breathy curse that Sam could not quite make out was muttered.

The dark-haired warrior of Heaven beside him paled and his eyes doubled in size as he retracted the bandaged arm that had been on its way to Dean's shoulder. He squeezed past the giant in the doorway, bolting from the room, obviously quite embarrassed at being caught by Sam in what appeared to be a very tender moment.

The older hunter kept his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose to illustrate his annoyance. "Yeah, Sammy?"

Way to go, Sam. You're quite the ass-hat.

The giant man felt a pang in his chest as he realized that was probably the jerkiest move he had made in recent history.

It was like being a small child again, a child who had just broken his mother's favourite vase. And now, this small child had to mention the proverbial broken vase to his brother without getting killed in the process.

"Um, I mean, I wanted to talk with you…" he choked out, hoping Dean would agree to at least hear what he had to say.

Dean turned to face his brother and tilted his head – something Sam recognized as being a borrowed trait from the Angel – trying to show his immense dislike for the intimate moment of brotherly bonding that he knew was coming up. "'bout what, Sam?"

He cleared his throat, "Castiel."

He stressed every syllable of the name, making sure to pronounce it correctly.

Cas-tee-el.

The shorter brother's shoulders relaxed and his posture straightened, as if the mere mention of the Angel's name called him to attention. "What about him?"

Smooth, Dean. Try to play it off…

Sam walked up to the bed and sat down, clapping his hands together in front of him as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Do you love him?"

So much for gathering thoughts.

Dean's eyes widened with panic. "What? Dude, seriously?"

But the stern look he got told Dean that Sam was as serious as a heart attack.

"Do you love him?" the younger hunter repeated, his voice level and calm.

No need to start a shouting match with the bullheaded hunter over whether or not he was in love with the Angel who had raised him from Hell.

There was some stammering and some moments where Dean's mouth moved but no actual sounds came out.

Then just –

"I don't even know what that means. Love."

Sam rested his head on his hands, "Love. Do you see yourself spending the rest of your life with him and getting to share all those milestones with him?"

Dean shot him a look and quipped, "When did you become my giant baby sister, Samantha?"

But Sam just shot back with a patented bitchface. "Dean. Serious. Could you see yourself growing old with Castiel?"

The hunter's mouth twisted into a weird frown and his brow furrowed with deep contemplation, "Well, Cas is an Angel – I can hardly see him growing old with anyone."

Sam shook his head, "Dean, you know as well as I do that he's not much of an Angel as it stands right now – I mean, what kind of Angel needs you to wrap a sprained wrist for him?"

Dean's shoulders drooped with resignation and he let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah."

There was a pregnant pause between the two brothers.

Then –

"Yeah. I do. I mean, as old as hunters get."

Sam smiled, seeing a light in his brother's eyes that he thought was long extinguished, "I dunno, man, Bobby's gotten pretty up there…"

They shared a good long laugh together. The thought of reaching Bobby's age – or even getting to comb gray hair – was a rare occurrence for hunters, more so with the raging Apocalypse.

Then Dean looked down at his shoes. It was his turn to be the embarrassed child.

"Sammy… Sam?"

"Yeah?"

The older Winchester cleared his throat, "Was it like that for you? With Jess, I mean. Did – did you see yourself growing old with her?"

There was another pause as Sam recalled the love of his life – Jessica Moore.

It had been quite a while since he had allowed himself to really think about her – that had always proved too painful in the past. Now, though, instead of the burning body on the ceiling of his Stanford apartment, he could remember her as she was – beautiful, young and vibrant.

Sam's eyes tingled with unshed tears and he looked up at his big brother with a bittersweet smile on his face, "Yeah. I did."

Dean nodded, clapping his hand on Sam's shoulder as he made his way out of the room. "Right – chick-flick moment over, bud. Let's go see if Bobby has any cold beer – I wanna teach Cas the finer points of alcohol."

Sam let out a good hearty laugh at Dean's inability to have a normal bonding moment and followed his lead, heading for the door. "Jerk."

He smirked and pushed the brick wall that was Sam into the doorframe and ran off, calling out "Bitch!" behind him.