I feel I should give a quick warning about this story's content. This is an AU, in which Dean Winchester and Sam Wesson are not at all related, but they ARE in a romantic relationship. If that's not your thing that's totally cool. It was inspired by the episode 4x17 "It's a Terrible Life." It is a Dean/Castiel slash fic, but this is not a love-at-first-sight story either. Expect Greek Mythology, apocalyptic nonsense, and karaoke.
Dean Winchester was the Director of Sales & Marketing at Smith, Inc. He drove a silver Prius, wore suspenders under his coat suits, and had a balanced diet that could be easily mistaken as rabbit food. He lived in a penthouse in the wealthy side of Lawrence, Kansas, and had a boyfriend who loved him in spite of his romantic affair with his job. All in all, Dean was living the apple pie life he'd always dreamed of.
"Hey," Sam said, entering his office unannounced. Dean recognized the playful smirk on his face.
"Hey," Dean said, stretching back in his chair, finally realizing he'd been uncomfortable in his unmoving position.
Sam Wesson had been Dean's boyfriend since they met in college. And then Sam decided to go to law school, and Dean got a great job, and yet here they still were. Together, and happy.
Dean got up from his chair, rubbing at his eyes to clear his blurry vision. Sam met him halfway across the room and planted a kiss on his lips, which Dean returned effortlessly. That was the thing with Sam, he always initiated the kisses.
"You ready to go, or should I stay and keep you company?" Sam asked, leaving his hands to hover on Dean's waist.
"Nah," Dean said. "We should go. I'm hungry."
"Great," Sam said as Dean pulled away and packed up his things. "I'll make us some amazing salads when we get to your place."
Dean smiled, having gathered all his belongings in his messenger bag, and reached for Sam's hand. "You know, that does sound pretty good right now."
"Are you tired? I'm feeling generous tonight. Maybe I could even slip a foot rub after dinner."
"This is why I love you," Dean said, as they went into the elevator.
Sam kept his word and made and served two delicious salads, customized for each of them, since they never agreed on the toppings or salad dressings. And after dinner, Dean lay on his couch while Sam massaged his foot with all the care in the world.
"How was work, Sammy?" Dean asked, shutting his eyes to sink into the relaxation process that came with a delicious foot rub.
"Sam," he corrected quietly before he continued, "I have a ton of cases to look over, but hey, that's the fun of being an attorney, right?"
"Hmm, so much fun."
"Am I boring you, Dean?"
"What?" Dean flashed opened his eyes, having almost drifted off to sleep for a second. "No, Sammy, I was just—I guess I'm real tired."
"I was going to ask if you wanted me to spend the night, but I think I should leave you to rest."
Dean pulled his feet away and sat up on the couch, facing Sam and leaning closer. "I want you to stay," he muttered.
"Really?" Sam asked with a smile spreading across his face. If there was one thing Dean would never have enough of, it was Sam's smiles.
"Yeah, man, but no spooning." Dean winked, but he was hardly smooth, so his other eye closed after the other, and it was nothing more than a blink.
"No spooning," Sam agreed and gave a full throttle laugh that filled the usually empty house.
Sam followed Dean into his bedroom and they lied under the sheets, close enough to feel each other's warmth, but not close enough for physical contact. Dean was simply too tired.
The following morning, Dean woke up before Sam in order to cook him breakfast. It was their thing, cooking for each other, but as of late, Sam had been the one doing most of the cooking.
Dean placed the whole wheat toast sprayed with I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter on a plate and then added it to the tray along with a bowl of oatmeal. He poured a glass of almond milk (unsweetened) and then he traveled slowly with everything into his room. Sam was in between a loud bear-like snore, and Dean set down the tray on his side of his memory foam mattress, since it ran a very low risk of moving.
"Wake up, sleepy head." Dean ran a hand through Sam's forehead, and when that didn't work, he pulled the sheets off of him.
Sam bolted up right, scanning the room with wide eyes. "Dean, what the hell?"
"My bad," Dean mumbled, chuckling. "Want some breakfast?"
Sam looked to the side of the bed and automatically grinned. "You made me this?"
"'Course I did. You always make me breakfast in bed, so I wanted to beat you to it instead."
"Thank you." Sam grabbed a piece of toast and began chewing on it, seemingly delighted. "I have a better idea on how to thank you even better tonight."
Dean felt blood rush to his face, and he looked away. "Um…Oh shit, Sammy, I can't. Not tonight, Sam, I'm sorry."
"Why not?" He looked more worried than disappointed, but Dean couldn't help but feel bad.
"I have a meeting with Zachariah. Those things take a century to end, you know that. I'm really sorry."
"Right," Sam said, resigned, taking another bite of his toast. "How is it that I always find time for us, but you can't? I'm a lawyer, Dean. You're a—"
Dean raised an eyebrow and folded his arms in front of him. "Go on, spit it out."
"Dean, look," Sam put down his toast and got out of bed. "I love my career. But I also love to spend time with my boyfriend, and if I have to keep making appointments for us to meet, then I…"
"You what? You're going to leave me?" Dean said. "Aren't you the one who's always telling me I'm the one who's giving up on this, on what we have?"
"And you still can't see it, Dean. You don't see how little you actually care about this." Sam got dressed and left Dean's home.
Dean didn't have much time to think about Sam or the state of their relationship because he had a full day's worth of work to focus on. And he was glad for it. The meeting with Zachariah was as long as he'd predicted, and by the time he left the office, his watch stated that it was ten after midnight. Dean pulled out his cellphone and read his text messages.
Sam: Are you still working? I've been thinking about this morning, and I feel like crap.
Sam: Dean, I'm not going to apologize because what I said is true.
Sam: Maybe we should talk. And no, this isn't code language for: I want to break up. Call me.
Dean took a deep breath and pressed dial to Sam's number. He heard the phone ringing four times before Sam picked up.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Just got off work?" Sam asked, conversationally.
"Yeah." And Dean didn't know what to say to him.
"Do you remember when we met?"
Dean smiled, his mind flashing back to the day Sam walked into his English class, with much shorter hair. Dean hated him because Sam was a know-it-all who kept raising his hands with all the right answers and politely correcting their professor. He was such a nerd, and Dean, well, wasn't (even though, yeah, it was Stanford). Later on during the semester, Sam chose to sit beside him and Dean kept sending him deathly glares, which Sam didn't seem to mind.
"I kissed you first," Sam said, bringing Dean back to the present.
"Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I despised you for being such a smarty-pants."
"Hey, I tutored you and made you the proud owner of an A in English Comp; I think I deserved that kiss years later."
"Yeah, well," Dean said, hopping into his Prius. "I'm glad you did."
"But do you remember how it used to be?"
Dean turned on the ignition, lowering the volume to the radio. "Sure, Sammy. We were best friends. It was awesome."
"Were? As in, not anymore?"
"We still are."
Sam was quiet for a long moment, and Dean didn't know how to break the silence. "Do you ever wonder if we lost our friendship in the middle of our relationship?"
Dean stared at the lights of the passing cars, resting his head against the seat. "I dunno. Things change, I guess."
"People change, too."
Dean yawned into the phone. "You mind if we continue our conversation tomorrow? I'm—"
"Tired. Yeah, I know the drill." Sam sighed. "Talk to you tomorrow, Dean."
"Good night."
Sam hung up without saying goodbye or goodnight and Dean was too tired to care.
On the way back home, Dean spotted a park lighted up only by the orange glow of a street lamp. He used to love to come with Sam to this park, and just lay watching the night sky. Sometimes they were greeted by hundreds of stars and a big bright moon. Other nights, the sky was cloudy and dull, but regardless, it was a show worth seeing.
Dean parked on the street and got out of his Prius, setting the alarm on it, just in case. He walked to the park, stuffing his hands into his coat because the night was chilly. He glanced over at the playground, but kept walking. He wanted to sit at the same wooden bench filled with graffiti from many different couples. One of the permanently marked declarations of love was of Sam and him. Dean sat on the bench, running his fingers on top of their names and their promise of an eternal union.
And in that instant, the loud blow of the winds ruffled the trees around him, and before he could react, it happened. The black snake-like trail of smoke moved on a trackless sky and, even though he tried to stop it, the smoke made its way down his throat with the speed of a mustang in a highway and the weight and pressure of an eighteen-wheeler.
When Dean opened his eyes again, he was inside of a car, and even though his mind was hazy, and somehow scratched, he recognized that this car wasn't his Prius. He looked out the windshield that was being splashed with hard-hitting rain.
"It's coming down heavy, isn't it?" A gravelly voice said from the driver's seat.
Dean shook, startled. He wasn't aware that there was anyone else in the strange vehicle with him, and his mind felt pretty numb that he didn't think to put two plus two together.
The person who'd spoken smiled at him, and Dean narrowed his eyes as he stared at him. The man looked to be around his age (mid-thirties) and he had a halfway grown beard. Even in the darkness of the car, Dean could see the blue of his eyes. As the man smiled, his nose wrinkled in all the right places. Dean's head started to seriously hurt and he had to lean back against the leather seat.
"What the hell happened?" Dean asked, massaging his temples.
"Uh, do you want the truth or do you want the sugarcoated version?"
Dean watched the rain landing against the windows, and tried to block out the sound of it bumping against the ceiling of the car.
"The truth," Dean mumbled, closing his eyes and pressing his hands against his head.
"You were possessed."
"Are you high?" Dean asked.
The man shook his head and tilted his head to the side, resembling a curious animal.
"Then tell me what the hell happened to me? Last thing I remember, I swallowed a whole lot of smoke. Am I dying? That's a lifelong worth of smoking and it's now in my lungs and I'm going to fucking die."
"You're a real drama queen, you know that?"
Dean spared him a glare. "And you're out of your mind. Do you really expect me to believe that I was possessed? Maybe you shouldn't watch Supernatural Activity before going to bed."
"Paranormal Activity," he corrected.
"Yeah, you would know."
The other man smiled again, and then he looked ahead of him at the rain pouring down.
"My brothers and I, we were in Texas when we heard word from a friend about a hoard of demons creating mayhem in Lawrence. So, we all came here and it didn't take long for us to find them. Anyway, we always try to save the people these demons possess, but it's often easier, and necessary, to just shoot them and then exorcise them. Which is exactly what I intended for the demon before it went inside you."
"So what, you shot an innocent man, and then let the demon possess me and you spared my life? Do you want a fruit basket, Superman?"
"Oh it was nothing," he said, waving his sarcastic thank you away. "I didn't think I'd spared your life because I hit your head pretty hard with a shovel. I'm almost sure you have a concussion."
"No shit, dickhead. It still hurts."
The man shrugged, and after a moment, he extended his hand for Dean to shake. Dean watched him, incredulous, but the other man raised his eyebrows and hinted at his waiting hand, so Dean shook it.
"I'm Castiel," he said.
"Dean."
"Sorry about the concussion. It could have been worse. I almost left you stranded in the park, and I would have, if it hadn't been for the rain."
"Well, it's good to hear that a killer still has a bit of compassion left," Dean said, coldly.
Castiel frowned.
"Come on, don't tell me I hurt your feelings by calling you a killer," Dean said, checking to see if the doors were unlocked, and luckily they were. "You just confessed to a massacre of innocent people who just so happened to get possessed by demonic entities, which it all sounds too theatrical for my liking, but whatever. I won't report this to the authorities because you'd only end up in a mental hospital, but man, try to stay away from the hallucinogens, alright?" Dean opened the car door and got out.
The rain poured down on him and he could hardly see his surroundings, much less distinguish his car. He wasn't even too sure he was at the park anymore. He turned back to the car and noticed that Castiel had gotten out also, and he was watching him. Dean shook his head, knowing he would regret his stupid decision, but he got back in the car with the killer. Cas got back in, as well, and they both looked at each other's soaking wet bodies.
"We're ruining my leather seats," Castiel stated matter-of-factly. "I happen to be very attached to this particular Impala."
"Speaking of cars," Dean said, scooting as far away from Castiel as possible. "Where is my Prius?"
Castiel shrugged. "I got to the park after chasing the demon around for about a mile."
"And you carried me all the way to your car?"
"You're not that heavy, Dean, and I work out."
Dean sighed. Cas had had enough opportunities to kill him or hurt him, in the least, but instead he carried him to safety, well, moderate safety. He still didn't feel he could trust this man, but at least he knew he wasn't in imminent danger.
"Could you drive me to my car?" Dean asked, turning to look at Cas, who'd already been looking at him. His big blue eyes were wide, curious.
"Okay, sure." Cas started the car. Despite the windshield wipers, the road could hardly be seen with the pressure of the rain, therefore, Cas drove desperately slow.
Dean took a moment to realize he'd already given a nickname to the killer who claimed the existence of demons. If only Sam were here to see this.
After a long, dreadfully quiet drive to the park where it all happened, Dean could see the silver crystalized shape of his Prius and felt his muscles unhinging. He turned to Cas—Castiel—and tried to find something civilized to say, but couldn't come up with something instantly.
"You honestly think I'm insane," Castiel said, and it sounded more like a question.
"I'm sorry, man, but that's all I'm getting from you. Haven't you ever stopped to consider how fucking strange those stories sound?"
"Yeah, and I get it. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal. There's a whole world inside our own world filled with unimaginable creatures, and only a few of us are up to the job, while the rest of the population lives carefree."
"Stay away from those drugs, man. Really." Dean reached for the door handle when Cas stopped him. Dean turned to him again, this time feeling frightened.
"I know how you'll believe me," Cas said, his eyes bright even in the poor light. "Just wait here a second."
Dean didn't want to. Of course he didn't. But his body didn't move.
Cas closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Dear Anna, could you do me a huge favor and fly down here? I need you to help me with something. Won't take long."
"Cas—"
"Hello, Castiel," a redheaded woman said, who was suddenly in the backseat of the car.
Dean gasped and moved against the door on his side, as far away from both of them as possible.
"Who's this?" she asked, staring at Dean as if he were an uninvited guest to a party.
"His name's Dean," Cas said. "He got possessed a few minutes ago, but I think I scared him. He keeps accusing me of being on drugs." Cas grimaced at Dean, as if he'd been overly rude to him, but are you serious? "Oh, I'm such a jerk, um, Dean, this is Anna. She's an angel of the lord."
Dean breathed in and out until he could stabilize his heart, and once he did, he stared back at the silvery promise of an escape just a few feet away.
"Pleasure," Anna said.
"You can't be an angel," Dean mumbled, his head going back and forth from his car to the redheaded woman who could perform a very realistic magic trick. "Where's your…where's your halo, and shouldn't you have wings? And a harp? Can you even sing?"
Anna looked at Cas, with a crooked smile. "Your friend's funny."
"I'm not his friend," Dean snapped. "And I don't believe that a person can just magically appear in the backseat of a car. You were either just hiding there where I couldn't see you before, or you sneaked in while we were driving at five miles per hour. Whichever it is, I don't give a damn. I'm getting out of here."
Dean gripped the door handle once again, but in the flash of a second, he was sitting in the passenger seat, but of his Prius. Cas was on the driver's seat and Anna still in the backseat. It was as if they'd been somehow transported. Magic again.
"This isn't going to work for me," Dean said, looking from Anna to Castiel. "You both need to stop, and leave me the hell alone. I don't like what's happening here."
"But you believe me, right?" Cas asked.
Dean rolled his eyes. "What the hell does it matter if I believe you or not? Why do you care so much about my opinion?"
Castiel looked at Anna, and she stared back at him. It looked as if they were having a silent conversation, and surely enough, seconds later she disappeared.
"I just…no one had ever called me a killer before," Castiel admitted. "And maybe I am a killer, well, I am, but I refuse to believe I'm a bad person. This, what I do, it's my family business. I save people, and I hunt things that go bump in the night. What do you do, Dean?"
"I work all week long, thank you very much."
Cas shook his head. "See, that's exactly why I've never gotten along with ordinary people. It's because you people are so blind about reality, and once all evidence is there, you still refuse to accept how meaningless your lives are in your own little fictional realities."
Dean leaned back into his seat again, feeling lightheaded. He was so tired, hell, he'd been tired. He wanted sleep, and he wanted Sam close by so he could tell him all about his horrible night.
"I believe you, Cas," Dean murmured. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with the truth."
"Nothing. That's why I'm here."
Dean stared back at Cas, and for a strange reason, one which Dean couldn't comprehend, the other man wasn't shied away. He kept his baby blue eyes firm on Dean's clear green ones. And then Dean's head hurt again, so he winced.
"You shouldn't be driving," Castiel said, with the smallest hint of concern.
"I need to get home, and your angel friend's gone, so I have to. Get out of my car."
Rather than doing what Dean specifically told him, Castiel put his hands on the wheels of his Prius and strapped his seatbelt on.
"Why are you doing that?" Dean couldn't help but ask.
"I believe in safety," Cas said, "but more than that, it's still raining hard, and I don't know the streets around here so well."
"No, that's not what I meant. Why are you still here? Get out."
"No," he said sternly, and then he gave him another friendly smile. "Where do you live, exactly?"
Dean scrunched his eyebrows. "The hell I'm telling you where I live, ow." His head was still pretty sore.
"Talk," Cas ordered. "I'll drive,"
Dean made his best grumpy bitchface (he'd learned that from Sam) and strapped himself with his seatbelt. He glared at Cas for a moment, and then he hissed his address and directions at him.
Cas managed to drive at the speed limit all the way to Dean's penthouse, and they were still in one whole piece. Dean opened the door once Cas returned the keys and Dean stepped out of his Prius, walking to his building.
"I think you need to wake up every couple hours," Castiel called to him, making Dean stop mid-step.
Dean turned around as Castiel approached him moderately slow. "I'll set an alarm," Dean said, continuing his walk to the building. As much as he fought against it, he still turned around again, "You can walk home, right? Or call a cab?"
Castiel smiled. "It's not me I'm worried about…"
"I will be fine, thanks." Dean kept walking, and just before he opened the building door, Castiel pulled it open for him. Dean sighed, and walked inside, ignoring the stupid smile that was still on Cas' stupid face.
"I'm no doctor, Dean, but I think you should get your head looked at." Castiel kept walking beside Dean, much to Dean's dislike.
"Maybe in the morning."
"Look," Castiel said, waiting with Dean in front of the elevators. "I know you probably hate me, and you want me to go, but is there anyone who could come and watch over you tonight?"
The elevator dinged open, and Dean stepped into it. Cas stood outside for a second, hesitatingly. Dean waved him goodbye, in hopes of him finally disappearing like Anna. But no, Castiel stepped inside the elevator, standing too close and staring at him.
Dean ran his hands over his face, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He uncovered his face, and looked over at Cas, who was now, thankfully, observing the rise of the elevator.
"You live in the last floor?" he asked all of a sudden. "Penthouse?"
"I can call my boyfriend, okay? Would that make you feel better?"
Cas blinked, staring at him again. "Yeah, if he's willing to drive in the rain."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know." Cas scratched the back of his head. "Most people are terrified of driving during a storm."
"Well, Sam isn't one of those people." Although, he actually was.
The elevator dinged again, and Dean stepped out of the elevator, with Cas following close behind. Dean decided to ignore him as he rounded the corner to his luxurious penthouse. Castiel stood at the door, watching Dean's home with something that looked like surprise.
Cas whistled. "You got a hell of a place, Dean." And just like that, uninvited and unwanted, Castiel walked inside Dean's home.
Dean hurriedly called Sam, in hopes that this weirdo would finally agree to leave, but Sam was insisting on not picking up. After the third try, his call went straight to voice mail.
"Hey, Sammy, I know it's late and all, but I kind of got a concussion. It's not bad or anything, but I, uh, got myself a help dog in my hands, so if you could call me back or come over right now, I'd really appreciate it. Um, alright, bye."
"You play golf?" Castiel asked. Dean turned around, only to find him touching and playing with his most precious golf clubs.
"Put. That. Down."
Castiel swung one of his clubs around in the air, nearly hitting a wall and scratching one of his eccentric plants. Dean ran over to him, snatching the club from his hands and putting it back where it belonged, way in the corner of his living room.
"So, what'd your boyfriend say?" Cas asked, stuffing his hands in his green jacket. Dean's eyes wandered to his plaid shirt underneath it, and then down to his holey jeans. He looked like a hunter.
"He's on his way over," Dean lied.
"Cool, I'll wait for him." Cas made himself at home, sinking down on Dean's couch.
"No," Dean said, walking in front of him, to where Cas had to look up to meet his eyes. "You're going to go because I'm real tired."
"Then sleep."
Dean couldn't believe this guy. He lifted his hands helplessly in the air, grunted, and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
And maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, to leave this stranger (and killer) alone in his living room, but Dean was tired as hell, so he jumped into bed—still a little wet—shut his eyes, and in the matter of seconds, he was out.
The sunlight awoke him the next morning, and his most prominent thought was the one that told him he'd never been woken up during the night. Which, in other words, meant that Castiel was gone.
With that mentality and sudden joy, Dean got up, went into his bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, and change out of his clothes into a comfortable robe and house slippers. He watched the clear morning through his window, delighted in his ache-less head, and opened his bedroom door.
Dean heard Sam's laughter as he moved through his hallway, so he hurried to the living room, but his sudden blissful morning was destroyed as soon as he noticed the man who'd made Sam laugh.
Castiel was still here.
And not just here. He was having breakfast with Sam in Dean's kitchen. By the looks of it, Dean had interrupted a friendly chitchat. Both Sam and Cas looked at him once they noticed him, and Sam got up, walking up to Dean.
"Hey, Dean, how're you feeling?" Sam wondered, reaching for Dean's head.
Dean pulled away from Sam's touch, feeling betrayed somehow, but his eyes went straight to Castiel, who was drinking his almond milk.
"Why are you still here?" Dean asked, and then to Sam, "why is he still here?"
Sam looked confused. "I thought…he told me everything that happened, I thought you said he could stay. I got here this morning and we've been discussing my theories on the spirit world. He's a supernatural hunter, Dean, isn't that, just, unbelievable?"
"Is that your thing, Cas? To just go around spilling your life story to every person you try to kill and then to their boyfriends?"
"Dean, he was trying to stop the demon inside you, to exorcise it," Sam tried to explain patiently.
Meanwhile, Cas kept eating Dean's food, and Dean felt the acidic fluids traveling up his chest from his stomach. He was hungry, and he was angry, and his boyfriend was taking Castiel's side.
"French toast?" Castiel asked, offering Dean a plate filled with it.
"No, I don't want your food," Dean snapped. "Better yet, I don't want the food you made with my food."
"Have a seat, Dean," Sam insisted, pushing Dean to the chair next to Cas, since Castiel had taken the head of the table. Sam sat across from Dean, folding his hands on the table. "What is going on here?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Dean said bitterly.
Cas watched them both as he chewed on his food, seemingly nonchalant.
"From what Castiel has told me," Sam said, "he saved your life, and not just that, but he made sure you got home safely. He waited for me to get here because he was worried about you. Isn't that right, Castiel?"
Cas nodded, downing his food with the milk. "Yes. I also made breakfast because I was starving, quite honestly."
"You see," Sam said, speaking with his problem-solving-lawyery voice. "So why are you so angry at Castiel? I find him entirely too interesting. Actually, he was telling me about a vampire nest his family's hunting down tonight. I will have to hit the books all day long. Can you believe monsters exist?"
Dean feigned a smile.
"Castiel, are you really okay with me tagging along for the vampire hunt tonight, then?" Sam asked, as if it were the most normal question to ask.
"What are you? Buffy?" Dean scoffed.
Sam ignored his remark, waiting for Cas to swallow his food and respond.
"As long as you lay low," Cas said, finishing the milk. "I can't promise you total safety, but as long as you're incognito, you'll survive."
"Right, right," Sam said calmly. "So, how long does it usually take you to finish them all off?"
Dean laughed humorlessly. "Are you hearing yourself, Sammy? You want to go play Ghostbusters with this psycho?"
"He can hear you," Sam said.
Cas nodded, still eating.
"Anyway," Sam said, his face filled with excitement. "Tell me more about tonight's hunt."
"Well, about the time, there's no way of telling," Cas said, talking while chewing. "But if I were to make a guess, I'd say about an hour, two at the most."
"I can't wait!" Sam said, much to Dean's disappointment.
"I don't feel comfortable with any of this," Dean mumbled, tapping his right leg anxiously. "Sam, you could get hurt. I know this may come as a shock, but you're the size of a moose, and if this guy thinks that you need to hide in order not to get killed, then you're as good as dead."
Sam made a perfect bitchface at Dean. "I think I am more than capable of hiding, Dean."
"He's not going," Dean said to Cas, and then to Sam, "you're not going."
"You're not the boss of me, Dean," Sam said, leaning forward on the table. "Since when do you even care what I do or don't do?"
"Since I decided I'm not losing my best friend, dammit!" Dean snapped and got up from his chair. He sat at the stool near his counter and slammed his fist on the marble surface. Seeing as Sam wasn't changing his mind, and Dean couldn't stop him, but Dean couldn't live with himself if Sammy got hurt, he made a stupid decision. "I'm coming with you."
"Are you sure?" Sam asked. Dean wasn't sure, but he couldn't trust Castiel to watch out for Sam.
"Someone's gotta keep you company," Dean muttered, sighed, and walked back into his bedroom.
Castiel finally decided to get out of Dean's apartment when Dean and Sam had to head to work. He left with a promise to pick them both up at Dean's building at exactly ten o'clock. Dean dreaded the idea. He couldn't picture himself hiding back in a car just to peek at whatever Cas and the rest of his messed up family did on a hunt. But Sam seemed overly enthusiastic, so Dean didn't back down.
After another day at the office ended, Dean went home to change and fix himself a small salad. Just as he was cleaning up his dirty dishes, Sam arrived, fifteen minutes early.
"What the hell are you wearing, Dean?"
Dean looked at his clothes again, still not understanding Sam's question. He'd put on khaki pants, a white polo shirt, and a dark brown stripped cardigan.
"Are you going to teach a college course, professor?" Sam laughed, walking inside and heading straight for Dean's liquor cabinet.
"As far as I'm concerned, we're not even going to be seen."
"But I can see you," Sam said, downing a tequila shot down his throat. "On second thought, that is looking hotter and hotter."
Dean shook his head. "Bitch. Hand me a round, will you?"
Sam handed Dean a shot of tequila and Dean drank it, feeling the burn as it made its way to his system.
"Want another one?" Sam asked, already refilling his glass. Dean drank it, feeling a heat rise from the inside out, and he headed over to Sam, pressing his lips hard against him.
Sam grinned at Dean once he pulled away, drinking the rest of his drink at hand.
"You ready?" Sam asked.
"Not at all," Dean confessed.
"Me neither."
By the time Dean checked his watch and it read 9:59, Sam received a phone call.
"Castiel?...You're already here?...Yeah, we'll be right down…Okay….Yeah…Yeah…Alright, bye."
Dean waited for explanations, one of them being, "Why the hell does he have your number?"
"Are you jealous?" Sam asked, amused.
"No, of course not. But you can't be friends with someone like Castiel, Sam. It's not natural."
Sam rolled his eyes, walking to the door, and that's when Dean noticed Sam was carrying a backpack. He waited to ask him about it until they were in the elevator.
"I have to record this, Dean," Sam explained, as if it were totally obvious.
Once outside the building, Castiel waited outside of the dashing black old model car in which he placed Dean the night before. He wore a similar outfit to the one Dean had seen him on, but his hair was a bigger mess than he remembered. Not that he wanted to remember.
"Hey, Sam," Castiel said, smiling that friendly smile. "Dean," he added later.
"Oh, right," Sam said, turning quickly to Dean. "Castiel just told me that his brothers weren't very happy about us tagging along, so Cas recommends we don't speak to them."
"Great, it's one less maniac I'll have to deal with," Dean muttered, climbing into the backseat of the Impala. He took a moment to appreciate the extraordinary care inside the car.
Castiel and Sam both got in the car as well, and they were engaged the entire ride in an entirely absurd conversation about the strengths of several mythical creatures. When they got to the werewolf versus vampire smack-down, Dean stopped listening.
Dean watched as they left the city behind, traveling through dark desolated roads, which screamed danger. Halfway up the road, Cas parked his car inside the forest until it couldn't be easily spotted. Dean could work with this, being in the safety of this big car, hiding where no one could see them.
That was, until Cas said, "The nest is about a quarter of a mile from here, so you can either stay in the car and see if you catch anything, or you could get a little closer and hide behind a tree."
"WHAT?" Dean shouted, in case he hadn't heard correctly.
"Dean, we should go," Sam suggested. "I want to go."
"No," Dean hissed. "NO. No. Absolutely not. No. There is no way. No, Sam. No…no. Don't give me the puppy-dog look. I'm not falling for it, no matter how endearing it may be. Stop that."
Cas glanced back at Dean, sighing patiently. He turned to Sam, then, saying, "While you two decide, I need to get my things ready and meet up with my brothers. Remember, you two: lay low. And when you're hiding, try not to move so much or one of them might sniff your scent."
"ARE YOU HEARING THIS, SAM?" Dean yelled again.
Castiel shushed him at once. "Dean, would you please just shut the fuck up? Don't panic. If there's an emergency…maybe I should leave you two a gun."
"Yes, fantastic," Sam said.
"We don't know how to use guns," Dean mumbled.
"Well, they wouldn't really kill the vampires, so it's sort of useless anyway." And with that, Cas left Dean and Sam, completely unarmed and alone.
Both of them remained silent as they watched Castiel walking away with what looked like a rifle in one hand and a large machete on the other. Dean gave a small shudder that Sam didn't see.
Dean scooted forward to where he could see Sam's face. He felt slightly comforted at the sight.
"Could we just maybe—"
"No," Dean said firmly.
Sam scowled at Dean for a moment, unblinkingly. "I don't even know why I'm doing what you're telling me. I didn't need you to come babysit me, Dean. I can take care of myself, so I'm going alone."
Sam opened the door and stepped out before Dean could stop him. Dean exited the Impala without a beat, following close behind Sam, looking around him, but there was nothing but apparent darkness. His shoes kept crushing the fallen leaves and making incredible noise.
"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean hissed through his teeth.
"Keep your voice down," Sam ordered, watching his every footstep and surroundings.
Dean heard the mysterious noises of the animals hidden in the darkness, only recognizing the sound of the owls and crickets. He could have sworn he also heard growling from afar, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.
Sam had already pulled out his camcorder from his backpack, and he'd turned on the night vision on it, pointing it around them. Dean could finally distinguish the animals and insects making the noises. Dean wouldn't accept it out loud, but at this moment he was sure glad that Sam was such a nerd about everything.
"We don't know where they are, Sammy," Dean said, using his inside voice.
"I'm guessing a nest of vampires would need a place to hide."
"Wait," Dean said. "Aren't vampires supposed to sleep during daylight and awake during the night? Meaning that these bloodsuckers could be pretty much anywhere?" Dean turned around, fearing the slightest blow of the wind.
"No, Dean, calm down. Cas told me they were in the hibernation process, so they sleep day and night."
"Vampires hibernate?"
"He also said that attacking them during the day would only risk the chance of the general public of being caught in between."
Dean stopped walking as they spotted an old cabin in the clearing of the forest. Sam hid behind a large oak tree, while Dean moved behind another one. And Dean was right when he said that Sam was hardly hide-able. He pointed the camcorder at the cabin, waiting for the action to happen.
Dean didn't know where the action would be coming from since he didn't notice Cas or any of his brothers, guessing they must all be inside by now.
"Sam, can you see anything?" Dean whispered.
"What?" Sam mouthed back.
"Can you see," Dean said, mimicking the words with his hands. "Anything?"
Sam pointed to his ear and shrugged, returning his attention to the camcorder.
Dean watched the cabin again, feeling a strange chill in the air, but to his defense he'd never been this close to a cabin full of vampires. A few minutes later, Dean and Sam still hadn't moved more than two inches, and they started hearing the noises of the monsters being destroyed. There were growling noises, screaming, knocking and tumbling. In a matter of seconds, the wall facing their way broke a hole, and one of the vampires went flying out of it.
Dean moved further away from the cabin, resting against the tree as if the tree itself would protect him from disaster.
Sam, on the other hand, sneaked out of his hiding place, moving his camcorder closer for a better look. He was almost all the way uncovered, and Dean's nerves were on edge. He thought of the chances of the recovering vampire of finding them if he just walked up to Sam and shoved him back behind the tree. The chances weren't in his favor, but that didn't stop him.
Before Dean reached Sam, he heard the loud rustling of leafs and in no time, the vampire was making a jump for him. Dean evaded him, launching himself to the tree against Sam. The vampire was back on his feet in no time, and Dean stared frozen as he took notice of his shark-like set of teeth.
"Shit," Dean hissed, pulling on Sam's hand and running away, but as he supposed, the monster caught up to them in an instant.
Sam fell to the floor a few feet away from Dean, while Dean struggled underneath the vampire on top of him, who kept snapping his many teeth together and aiming them at Dean's throat. Dean realized his arms were weakening and he had absolutely no means of protection. He turned to look for Sam, only to find him paralyzed on the ground, doing nothing but watching with obvious fear.
Dean continued holding back the monster, merely expecting his death. The next thing he knew, he heard a loud whooshing sound right above him, and the creature was beheaded, consequently falling against him with all of its weight. Dean pushed him away, grunting.
"You okay?" Castiel asked, extending his hand to him. Dean took his hand, pushing himself to his feet with the help of Castiel. Cas then went to help Sam up as well, but Sam preferred to stay seated on the ground, staring at the headless vampire near him.
"Thanks, man," Dean told Castiel, who looked exhausted, and with another look at him, Dean saw the blood dripping from his neck. He'd been bitten.
"What the hell did you do, Dean?" Castiel asked, seemingly furious.
"I was just trying to hide Sam back behind the tree," and as Dean gave his explanation, he realized how stupid he'd been.
"Sam?" Castiel squatted down near Sam, while Dean picked up his camcorder from the ground. Sam was still staring at the vampire, unable to look away, speak or move.
"I think he's in shock," Dean said, reaching for him, forcing him to stand up. Dean almost had to pull all of his weight up.
Cas looked worriedly at Sam. With a sharp inhale, he turned and walked back to the cabin.
"Get him in the car," Cas said, his voice sounding strained.
Dean hung Sam's arm around his shoulder, nearly carrying him all the way back to the Impala. Sam hadn't spoken a word. Dean managed to get him to the backseat of the car, and he was glad to see it was big enough to fit Sam. He laid him down the length of the seat, and Sam closed his eyes at last, which wasn't better, but at least it wasn't as odd.
Dean went to sit in the passenger seat, watching out for signals of Cas. He didn't have to wait long because Castiel came out of the shadows in no time, but only this time he wasn't alone. Behind him were two other men, one of them taller and the other shorter than him. As they got closer to the car, Cas signaled for Dean to join them, so he got out. All three of them moved closer to him, and Dean was unsure of what to do since he wasn't supposed to speak to Cas' brothers.
"Dean, this is Michael," Cas pointed to the taller one with short dark hair. "And this is Gabriel," he signaled to the shorter one with longer and lighter hair, who was also sucking on a lollipop, but Dean figured it was normal. "Michael—Gabriel, this is Dean."
Dean offered his hand, which Michael shook, but Gabriel pulled out his lollipop only to inform him he'd "Pass" and Cas gave a tired sigh in response.
"Where's the other one?" the one named Michael asked. He carried two machetes and zero guns, while the other one, Gabriel, carried what looked like a 2 littler bottle of…blood.
Cas looked past Dean, to the backseat of the Impala. "Has he said anything?"
"No," Dean said, looking at Sam again, in hopes of him recovering miraculously. "I think he's sleeping."
Cas nodded.
"I hope this teaches you a lesson, Castiel," Michael said bitterly. "You can't bring your friends on a hunt. This isn't worth a field trip."
"Look, neither of us got hurt," Dean explained, calmly. "It was my mistake. And Cas didn't force either of us to come, we wanted to."
"You're lucky you're pretty," Gabriel said, before walking away to the main road.
Michael watched as Gabriel left, and then he placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder.
"No more field trips," Michael told him, as if he were speaking to a child who had to learn the difference from right and wrong.
Cas ran a hand over his hair, shagging it up even more until his strands of hair were raising in every direction. He looked beat, but most of all, in front of Michael, Castiel looked angry.
"I'll meet you back at the hotel after I drop them off," Cas told Michael.
"You'll have to book a room separately, brother," Michael said, walking away in the same trail as Gabriel.
Cas glanced at Dean, offering a small grin before getting in the Impala. Dean went into the passenger seat, checking up on Sam, but there was nothing new about him. Cas turned the engine on and turned up the volume of the stereo. Don McLean's American Pie came on.
"You like this song?" Dean asked, but soon regretted it because Castiel had closed his eyes.
"Mmm," Cas hummed, opening his eyes as McLean sang "Did you write the book of love, and do you have faith in God above if the Bible tells you so?" Cas formed a more realistic smile as he looked at Dean.
"I was asking…'cause I like this song," Dean muttered.
"It's a very nice song," Cas said, putting his hands on the wheel and then driving away.
Dean concentrated on the song and only the song for most of its length, but he was overly curious about tonight's hunt.
"Cas," Dean said quietly, clearing his throat. "What happened during the vamp hunt? I'm assuming you caught all of them, but you were the only one I saw bleeding. And what's up with your brothers, are they usually this bitchy?"
Castiel laughed, turning to Dean where he could see his wrinkled nose in the process.
"Is that a friendly tone I'm hearing?" Cas said, sounding shocked and a little amused.
Dean was glad the car was dark because he could have sworn he was fucking blushing.
"I guess that's where I should have started," Dean said, checking back on Sam once again. "Hate to admit it, but I really do owe you my life. If not for the first time at the park, then for tonight. I could have been drained of my blood while Sam lied still as a rock, and I don't know what would have been worse. Thank you, Cas, really. Thank you for showing up at the right time."
Cas stared at the open road for a while, silent. But once the song changed into something of an entirely different genre, Cas turned to Dean, keeping his eyes away from the road just a couple seconds.
"It was foolish of me to allow you and Sam to join me tonight," he said, letting out a breath he'd been holding. "My brothers and I have never gotten along, which is exactly why I ride alone in my own car. They think I'm the black sheep of the family. What I did by bringing you two here just helped prove their case."
"They're idiots, that's what they are," Dean said, feeling suddenly furious at two men he didn't entirely know. "Cas, you told us what could happen, and if you think about it, we were actually lucky. How did you know I needed your big ass machete?"
"I just knew I had to get the one that escaped from me," Cas said earnestly. "But I'm also glad I was useful."
"Oh you were more than that," Dean said, but decided not to elaborate.
Castiel clenched his hands on the wheel. "I could have stopped the vampire from flying out of the cabin like that, but I was trying to get to their leader."
"Vampires have leaders?"
"Sure they do, at least the ones that travel in groups." Cas shook his head slowly, and then continued, "Michael told me he would kill the leader, to only take care of the ones on the ground. But I found him first, and he looked so vulnerable, so easy to kill. Except he woke up and alerted the rest of them, right before feasting on some of my O positive."
Dean nodded, understandingly. "What about the cuts in your hands?"
"Oh," Cas said, sounding surprised as he examined said hands. There were a few noticeable wounds there that Dean noticed, but then again, it was hard to explain why he was staring at Cas' hands. "I may have fallen while I was in there."
Dean looked over at Cas, wanting to laugh. "You're a real badass, aren't you?"
"I put everyone else to shame." Cas winked. Dean gave Cas credit because he knew how to wink properly.
"So," Dean said, curious still about something else, "what about your brothers?"
"What about them?"
"What's their problem?"
"I just told you, Dean," Cas said, turning down onto the street where Dean lived.
"What was up with Grumbly telling you to book a separate hotel room? And why was the Shorty McShorty with the blood eating candy after a full on killing spree?"
"Nice nicknames," Cas said, chuckling as he parked in the garage of Dean's building. He sighed after shutting the ignition. "Michael was just letting me know to stay away because they're pissed off. And Gabriel, well, he was being Gabriel. He likes getting cavities."
Dean nodded, taking in the information. "So, help me get Sam up to my bedroom?"
"Sounds like an indecent proposal, but yes, I will."
Between Dean and Cas, they managed to get Sam to the elevator, and then into Dean's penthouse. Sam wasn't entirely asleep, but he wasn't really putting his legs to work either. They laid Sam down in Dean's bed and then he took off his shoes while Cas removed his jacket. Once that was taken over with, Sam seemed to fall back asleep, and they closed the door to the room, walking back into the living room.
"How long will this last?" Dean wondered out loud, although he could use an answer.
"Sam's a big strong man," Cas said. "Give him a few hours of sleep and he'll be as good as new."
Dean nodded, his eyes wandering back to Cas' neck, now with dried blood. "This is going to sound so strange, but would you please let me clean you up?"
"What?"
"Your neck," Dean specified. "It looks so bad. After what you did tonight, I think it's the least I should do."
"Oh, yeah, I guess," Cas said, touching his wounded neck. "I'd forgotten about it."
"Sit down," Dean said, walking to his bathroom to get his first aid kid and a clean towel. He wet the towel and took the supplies back to Castiel, who was now on the couch.
"Dean, you don't have to do this because you think you owe me anything" Cas said, watching Dean's working hand as they pulled out some bandages from the kit.
Dean placed the wet towel on Castiel's neck, wiping off the dried blood. "I'm not," he said at last. "Could you finish that off?"
Castiel continued wiping blindly at his neck while Dean went to pour them both a glass of water. Dean returned with the waters, handing one of them to Cas, while he drank desperately from the other.
"Thanks," Cas said, downing his glass of water.
"Why do you do what you do, Cas?" Dean wondered, continuing the cleaning process of Castiel's neck. "Hey, would you mind removing your jacket so I can get a better look at the wound?"
Castiel slipped out of his jacket, tossing it on the couch, and Dean admired the many visible layers beneath his plaid shirt. He wondered if it was a hunter thing.
"Do what? Hunt?" Cas asked, looking straight at Dean's eyes, without boundaries.
"Yeah," Dean said, proceeding to shift Cas on the couch so that Dean could lean closer to his side. The dried blood was sticky, and the towel was already stained red.
Cas shrugged. "It gets me through the day."
"I remember you saying it was something of a family business," Dean muttered, removing the towel to run two soft fingers over the two punctures in Cas' neck. "Does it sting?"
"No," Cas said quietly.
Dean left his fingers there for another second before applying a great amount of Neosporin.
"My dad disappeared," Cas whispered, staring ahead of him. "When we learned the real reason for his disappearance was because he's dead, we became hunters."
Dean hesitated, stalling with unrolling the bandages in his hand. "How did your dad die?"
"He got possessed by a demon one night, when a couple hunters found him and tortured him in order to get him exorcised. He only lived long enough to tell us what happened."
"I'm sorry," Dean said, sincerely. "Did you ever find the hunters?"
"Not me," Cas said. "But my brothers made sure to take care of them."
Dean was now realizing that the bandage would look ridiculous around Cas' neck, so he put it back in his kit and pulled out a large squared Band-Aid instead. "This Band-Aid probably won't do much to help. Sadly, I'm not a doctor."
Castiel laughed. "You don't have to be. I'm good as new." He smiled, looking directly at Dean's eyes like he accustomed doing.
Dean blinked, considering something outstanding. "You're not going to turn into a vampire with that bite, are you?"
"No, no, of course not, Dean," Cas said, smirking sideways. "Maybe just a bat, though."
"I don't know what to expect anymore," Dean confessed. "I have a lot to reconsider. I mean, all my life I've lived under this false impression of what's real and what isn't. It feels like a blindfold has been removed from my eyes, you know?"
"It gets easier with time," Cas said, regarding Dean with eyes that spoke a million words. "We just have to learn to see more than a blue sky. We have to learn to teach poetry to a fish."
"Is that a metaphor for something, or can we really make that happen?" Dean asked, suddenly intrigued.
Cas smiled widely. "We could always give it a try someday."
Dean smiled in return. He wanted to believe that Castiel would stick around long enough to pass on some of his hunting knowledge.
"Well, I should probably get going," Cas said, getting up from the couch. He ran his hand over his patched up neck. "Thanks, for this. If it'd been up to me I would have just taken a shower to wash it all away." He snickered, backing away to the front door.
"Hey, um," Dean said, following Cas to the door. "How long will you stick around here in Lawrence?" Dean stood beside the door, staring intently at Cas' eyes. There was something about his eyes that required more than a quick glance.
Cas shrugged, blindly reaching for the doorknob. "It's usually up to Mike and Gabe. Although, from what I noticed earlier today, Gabriel found himself a girl to play with, so my guess is roughly a couple days more."
"He sounds charming," Dean said monotonously.
"At least you're not related." Cas opened the door and stepped out onto the hallway. He stood there, regarding Dean expectantly.
Dean considered his words before voicing them. "Cas…I will let you know when Sam gets better."
"Good," Cas said, walking back to the elevator. "Bye, Dean."
Dean waved Cas good-bye, a set of words stuck in his throat which couldn't find a way out.