Dean and Sam Winchester led an extraordinary life from birth, but I'm only going to tell you pieces of it. I find that sometimes, putting the pieces together yourself can be better than the pieces themselves.
"Lovin' free!"
"Dean. You can't sing." Sam reminded him. "Please stop."
Ignoring his brother, Dean continued. "Season ticket on a one way ride!"
"I can't even hear AC/DC anymore." Sam waved his hand at the car radio, hoping to quiet is brother a little.
"I'm on the highway to hell!" Dean's voice drifted out of the open window into the cool night's air. His treasured black 1967 Chevy Impala sped down the winding roads to La Conner, Washington with his younger brother Sam.
"Come on Sammy!" Dean boomed, his green eyes bright as he tapped on the gas, approaching a dangerous, not to mention an illegal, speed. His sandy blond hair was too short to be moved by the speed, but Sam's dark, shoulder length hair was blowing around his face. "Live a little!"
Sam shook his head slightly and asked, "Why are you so happy anyway?"
"I just feel great, since when is that a crime?" Dean smiled brightly as he took his foot off the gas.
"I do not see anything wrong with it." The well-known voice came from the backseat that was empty just moments. Dean yanked the wheel and the car swerved due to the surprise of the brothers. Castiel rested his arms on the edge of the frontseat's side as Sam's head whipped back to glare at the angel. Dean turned off the car, turning to mirror Sam.
"Ya know Cas, a warning beforehand would be great." Dean's voice was laced with sarcasm as Castiel's face twisted into deep thought. He pondered the driver's request as Dean started the car back up.
"I will attempt to in the future," He said, his voice deep and gravely. "But I cannot always promise it." Per usual, Castiel was wearing a black suit with a white shirt, resembling an accountant who was too busy with work to fix his backwards tie. Over everything was an unbuttoned tan trenchcoat. His hair was dark and messy, like he had run his hands through it without thinking.
"How'd you even find us?" Dean asked, his eyes forward as he navigated the road. "I thought the rib-thing made it so no angels could track us."
Castiel glanced over at Sam, who had grown extremely quiet in the passenger's seat. "You did not tell him?"
"Tell me what?!" Dean demanded, as he stole glances to his brother and Castiel.
"We needed his help." Sam argued. "And I knew that for some reason you'd get all touchy and say that we could handle it ourselves, though we obviously can't."
"They're just demons." Dean barked, turning the car onto a brightly lit road. "Hell, we deal with demons more than we deal with normal humans."
"Dean, why would you 'get all touchy' if you and Sam needed my help?" Castiel asked with mild curiosity.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, looking at his brother. "Why do you get all weird whenever I mention Cas?"
Dean looked to his right to find both men staring at him intently. He returned his eyes to the road, and to Dean's luck, the interrogating halted when Dean caught sight of a cheap motel for them to camp out in. He turned into the motel's car park, parking in front of the obnoxiously red building that showed bright, despite it being a foggy night.
"I'll go get the rooms." Sam offered, opening up the creaky car door. He left the two in the vehicle while he headed up to the motel's office. Dean and Castiel sat in silence for several minutes until Sam returned, his lips pressed together.
"What, no rooms?" Dean's hand inched towards the car keys when he noticed Sam's look of dread.
"They only had two rooms, both of them singles." Sam grimaced. "And apparently, this is the only motel within forty miles of La Conner." Both of the brothers looked in the backseat towards Cas, whose face obviously did not recognize the situation at hand. Dean and Sam looked back at each other and wordlessly started Rock, Paper, Scissors. "When are you going to learn to pick something other than scissors?" Sam asked in glee as Dean groaned in defeat.
"Come on, angel face. You're bunkin' with me." Dean proclaimed as he opened the car door and headed to the trunk to retrieve his bag. Castiel obediently got out of the Impala and took the room key from Sam.
"Room 454." Sam pointed at a small building to their left. "I'll be in the other building in room 895." He started off towards the other building before pausing and calling over his shoulder, "Try to tune out the sleeptalking."
Dean rolled his eyes and started over to their room, Castiel following closely behind.
"What do we do now?"
Dean contemplated the simple question for a moment. On one hand, he could take Castiel to a bar and laugh as he awkwardly tried to be human. On the other hand, he know that they should be reviewing case and figuring out a plan for tomorrow. "Honestly," Dean said, rubbing his eyes with his fist. "I'm tired as hell from driving and my head feels really foggy. Probably going to watch trash T.V. and then pass out." Dean flopped on the bed before adding, "You're sleeping on the floor, by the way."
He looked up and saw that Castiel was standing in the same spot, watching Dean. "I do not sleep." Cas responded simply.
Dean blinked in surprise, having never considering that angels wouldn't need sleep. "Seriously? Like never?"
"I rest," Castiel admitted. "But never fall unconscious willingly and without trauma."
"Oh." Dean responded eloquently.
Castiel tilted his head slightly. "What do dreams feel like?" Castiel asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"Um...I don't know. Like dreams." He shrugged. "I guess you don't dream either." Dean considered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and grabbed the T.V. remote. An awful sitcom was playing but it was better than nothing. He layed back on the bed, fluffing the pillow under his head.
Castiel's voice cut through a toothpaste commercial when he said, "I can drift and enter one's dreams, but cannot have them."
Dean turned his attention off the T.V. and stared at the angel. "You can enter dreams?" He asked gruffly.
"Yes." Castiel nodded his head slowly. "They see me, but usually cannot decipher that I am real. They believe me to be a figment of their imagination."
The hunter's heart raced as he thought back to the dreams he'd had lately. All of them included Castiel in one way or another, which is why Dean had been wary of him for the last few weeks. They would be on the hunt for some creature and Castiel would be fighting with them when he would get hurt. Every time he saw a blade pierce the angel, or a bullet kiss his skin, Dean felt like his heart and stomach were being twisted and ripped out of his body. And everytime he'd be too late. Castiel would just lay there immobile as blood pooled around him, leaking from the wounds.
Dean would try to stop the bleeding and help, but there was still a battle to fight. He felt himself die many times, refusing to leave his friend's side. Then came the clawing. He would slowly feel himself being dragged back into Hell, back to the torture he escaped. After having this dream several times, he would hear variations of the same phrase in Castiel's unharmed, frantic voice right before he would descend into Hell… "This is a dream, Dean. Wake up. You're safe, and so am I. You are not going to Hell, I promise."
And then Dean would wake up. Sam would already be up, often commenting on Dean's mumbling and occasional screams. Dean would just laugh it off with a joke or sarcasm, but deep down, he knew that Sam was beginning to get worried. Hell, even he was beginning to question why he was having these nightmares.
"Is something the matter?" Castiel's voice brought Dean out of his thoughts long enough for him to notice that his eyes have been fixated on Cas and that this head felt worse than ever.
"Have you ever done that…" Dean paused, looking for the right words. "Dream violating thing with me lately?" Dean asked suspiciously.
There was a long, tense silence before Cas finally replied, "I do what is needed. Your mind is a dark, detrimental place that will be the downfall of you."
"What else have you seen." This did not come out as a question, but a rough demand.
Castiel's eyes widened, but his face stayed carved from stone, not betraying what his mind was thinking. "Nothing that you forbid me to see. It works like a hallway with many doors." He explained. "The ones that your mind has locked away, sometimes so even yourself cannot see or remember it consciously, I cannot enter without great force. Other doors are slightly ajar, and one gets interested with the sounds coming from it…"
Dean shut his eyes hard, as if that would erase the other recurring dream he had about Castiel. They were in a shitty motel very similar to the one they're in now, and him and Cas got very drunk. Very, very, very drunk. Castiel started asking questions about human activities and emotions, when Dean realized not only had he never had sex, but he'd never even kissed anyone. After a couple more shots of whiskey, Dean offered him a lesson in romantics. Visions of the dream came back to him vividly, such as when he leaned in close to Cas and laid his lips gently on the angel. He then had to explain that Cas needed to move his lips too, and then came questions of tongue. When Sam woke Dean up, him and Cas had been full on making out, shirts off and pants on but unbuttoned. The dream had felt real. A little too real. He could still feel the material as he loosened the angel's tie in their fit of drunken lust, feel his slightly chapped lips pressing on his.
Dean cleared his throat and turned back to Cas, who still stood there watching the hunter with interest. "So, you probably know the dream I'm asking about." Dean's voice came out rough and hoarse as he ran his hand through his short, sandy blond hair.
"I know of two that could be the one you are inquiring about." Castiel said calmly. "Is it the one where we got intoxicated or where I died?" The bluntness and emotionless way Castiel referred to his own death upset Dean. Yes, there was always the darkness of death looming over hunters as well as angels, but he couldn't imagine a world without Castiel. It was as hard as imagining a world in which Sam died, and couldn't come back.
"Both. So, you're the reason why I started waking up before I got dragged down to Hell, aren't you?" Dean demanded.
"Yes." Castiel said after a moment of hesitation. "I did not see it as healthy for you to revisit and relive that experience. I could tell you were in immense pain every time and could not watch it over and over again." Cas explained as he sat down on the bed and looked down his tie.
"You were really in the one where we got drunk?" Castiel nodded at the hunter's question. "You never woke me up from that one." Dean said pointedly as he moved closer to Castiel.
"I do not know why but...I felt like I could not wake you up. I was selfish." His head still downwards, Cas snuck a glance at Dean, who appeared to be deep in thought.
The suddenly, without warning, Dean took Castiel's face in his hands and kissed him. Cas faltered for only a moment before kissing the hunter back, deepening the intimate exchange.
Meanwhile, in room 895, Sam sat down on the old bed with a map and pages upon pages of notes surrounding him. He was having a hard time concentrating on demons when all his brain could think about was his brother. Sam knew he overthought most things, but Dean's nightmares were really starting to scare him. Sometimes the nightmares would get so intense that Dean would cut his hand while gripping the knife he kept under the pillow. He even started acting strange around Castiel, whom he always teasingly got along well with, despite the personality clash.
Sam decided to go to ask them to all go out for a drink to loosen up. Putting on his flannel, Sam headed over to the other building where the guys were and knocked several times on the pale green door. He could hear a voice, obviously Dean's, curse, "Son of a bitch." Sam heard a thump, then some rustling before the door opened. Dean was pulling down his black T-shirt over his head, looking rather nonchalant.
"Hey, I was wondering if you guys wanted to go for a dri-what's wrong?" Sam asked mid sentence as he took in the sight of his brother's disheveled hair and his uneven breathing that he was attempting to mask. Although Dean was obviously trying to block Sam's view into the room, Sam's height gave him a peek at Castiel, who was lacking a shirt and looking guilty as hell as he sat on the bed.
Realizing what he had just interrupted, Sam said, "I'm just going to go back to the room…" Sam backed away from Dean and the door, eyes still wide at what he just witnessed.
"Yeah, you do that." Dean sneered as he slammed the door shut and jumped back onto the bed where Cas laid.
"Do you think he…" Dean asked worriedly while Castiel resumed kissing down his jawline and throat.
"Don't worry about him, let's keep going." Cas murmured into Dean's ear.
"No," Dean pulled away. "I am worried about it." The hunter said harshly.
Both men sat there, pondering on what Sam may or may not have seen and pieced together. They settled on Sam being too clueless to seriously get the situation and decided to head to bed. Castiel grabbed a pillow off the bed along with a blanket and proceeded to the floor beside the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked.
Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "You told me I would be resting on the floor?"
"Get up here angel face."
Castiel nuzzled up to Dean's chest as the hunter fell asleep, a strange sensation creeping over him as the angel lost consciousness.
Dean woke up to Castiel on top of him, kissing his chest frantically. "Cas? What're you doin'?" Dean asked as his sleep-ridden head tried to wrap around the situation.
"Shh. Just relax…" Castiel whispered. "Don't worry about anything...I'll do everything."
This jolted Dean awake and on his feet, the knife he keeps under the pillow in his hands. "You're not Cas!" He shouted towards the figure that eerily resembled Castiel.
Now that he was awake, Dean noticed the small changes being more prominent around him. The motel room turned dark, as if someone had turned out the lights, and it was also becoming damp. The fake Castiel approached Dean with his arms outstretched. "Wake up Dean, come on wake up, you have to wake up!" The hunter recognized the voice as belonging to the real Castiel, but he couldn't concentrate on the faint whisper due to his chest feeling like someone was beating it. So, Dean chose to focus on the other Castiel's face, which was duller than the real angel. A small part of his mind reminded him that the real Castiel didn't use contractions unless he was scared or rushed. And, of course the real Castiel would never wake Dean up with the desire for steamy sex… So far as he knew.
"I need help! Father, please don't take him, please! Sam! Help!"
Dean looked around wildly, searching for the heavenly voice. The pain in his chest was starting to become unbearable as his eyes started rolling back in his head. And with Castiel's voice being the last thing he heard, Dean let go and let himself drift away from his body. For once, he felt content with death, so long as Cas was the last person he saw or heard.
"Come on Dean, you have to survive, I can't live without you!" Castiel was in tears and trying his best to give CPR-two things he was very unfamiliar with. He had been searching for Dean all night after he had went out to go get drinks as soon as they found the motel. He finally found Dean hooked up to IVs in an abandoned shop, feeding a Djinn. Castiel started unhooking the pale hunter from the lines while Sam searched for the mystical genie who was feeding off Dean.
The hunter wasn't in good shape. Dean was pale and clammy with blood running down the crook of his arm from where the IV was. His eyes were closed with dried tear stains down his cheeks. Castiel tried to find a pulse and when he couldn't, he started compressions like he'd viewed on House, M.D. He'd seen Dean watching the show, and maybe it could be the thing that helped Castiel save him. Only this wasn't T.V. and Cas wasn't even close to a doctor. He wasn't even actually a human. Castiel was somewhere in between, caught with an angelic mind and human blood.
"I need help! God please don't take him, please! Sam! Help!" Castiel pleaded as Dean's blood stained his hands.
Sam ran over and found Castiel crying as he leaned over Dean's lifeless body. It only took one look for Sam to tell that this was it. He had seen Dean dead before; He had even buried his brother before. But never once had Dean looked so content to be dead. Even through the tears, there seemed to be a smile. One last sarcastic line for one last time.
"We've got to help him, Sam." Castiel looked up at the younger brother. "He can't die. Not here, not now."
Sam bent down and felt the skin on his brother's throat. "Cas, I can't find a pulse…" No matter how gently it was said, it still felt like knives being shoved into the angel's ears.
"NO!" Cas raged as he grabbed Sam's jacket collar, jerking and shaking him. Human emotions were flooding into Cas' mind, and with human emotions come human actions. "He cannot die. I won't allow it." Sam's eyes widened in fear as Castiel held a blade to his throat. "Fix. Him." Castiel growled.
Suddenly, Dean's eyes flew open and he gasped as the life flowed back into him, grabbing the attention of Castiel and Sam.
"Thank you, Father." Castiel praised, glancing upwards. "Dean, I thought I lost you! You're never going out alone ever again." He announced before he quickly kissed Dean square on the mouth.
"I'm okay, I'm fine." Dean sat up and held up his hands. "Damn Cas, is that a knife? Chill. Hey Sammy."
"Hey Dean. You died, in case you were curious." Sam said this line with such sarcasm that Dean felt a stab of jealousy at the seamless execution.
"Wouldn't be the first time, right? So uh...Who wants pie?" Dean added weakly as Cas helped him to his feet.
"Yeah. Sure. Pie." Sam begrudgingly agreed, his words were laced with defeat. His brother had died, again, and now he's back. The first time, Castiel had brought him back, but Castiel can't perform those miracles anymore. Someone-or something- had brought his brother back, which means they'll want something in return. Castiel's voice when he found Dean worried Sam, though. The job was dangerous and there was always going to be the threat of death looming around for them. He just hoped Castiel could accept that.
"So what was your hallucination?" Sam attempted to ask casually as the trio sat down at the local diner for Dean's beloved pie.
"Wha?" Dean mumbled as he stuffed his face full with food, a sight that disgusted Sam. Cas, however, didn't seem to mind too much as he sat next to the sandy-haired hunter.
"The Djinn." Sam said shortly. "Their poison reaches into your deepest fear or desire and gives you hallucinations based on it. So, what was it?" Sam asked expectantly.
Dean snuck a peek next to him at Castiel, who was determinedly poking at his pie with a fork. "It was just the usual: White picket fence, garage filled with vintage cars." Dean said dismissively, and Sam decided to drop the subject. His brother was hiding something, and he'd figure it out sooner or later.
Back at the motel, Dean and Castiel were getting ready for bed; Castiel on the floor, and Dean on the bed. With the lights out, Cas contemplated on whether or not he should tell Dean about what he knew. Finally, he decided to talk about it. "Hey Dean?" The angel asked with uncertainty.
"Uh, yeah Cas?" Dean mumbled.
There was a pause. "Why was I your hallucination?" The dark room filled with tension as Castiel's words sank with meaning as an anchor sinks in the ocean.
"I don't know. Wait-how do you know about my dream?" Dean demanded as he sat up in the sleazy motel bed.
"Intuition." Castiel lied. "Is this why you have been avoiding me?"
"...Maybe?" Dean sighed. "Look I don't know why. It musta been something the Djinn did."
"Oh."
Dean was taken aback at the short reply. "What's wrong?"
"I had thought...but I see I was wrong…" Cas' voice displayed hurt and betrayal as he pulled the thin blanket over his head and hid his face. He had thought that Dean actually cared, actually felt the same way he did. He thought that maybe...but that was stupid of him, wasn't it?
"Cas?"
As much as it hurt him, Castiel ignored Dean. And for the first time in his long life, Cas felt like this was what a breaking heart felt like.
"Castiel?"
Dean knew he said something wrong. Cas always answered him with a deathly serious comment or swearing in Enochian. Dean had fucked up bad. He knew he had feelings for Castiel, but he didn't know if they exceeded friendship. And even if they did, was he ready to risk their friendship with revealing those feelings buried within him? "Did I say something wrong?" He asked. "Come on Cas, I'm sorry, angel face…" Dean moved to the edge of the bed and looked down to the floor where the angel laid with his back to the bed.
"I'm sorry?!" Castiel sat up and turned around to face Dean. "That's what you say to me after you've been flirting with me for months, then avoiding me, all while still having dreams of me and you-" But Castiel's rant was cut off when Dean tilted his head up and kissed his angel. And sure enough, his angel kissed back.