A/N: So this is my first endeavor into the wondrous land of fanfiction... I hope I didn't do too badly. So if it's complete and utter crap or, on the other, much less likely hand, you actually like it, please review! Also, the next chapter is in progress. Hopefully it won't take too long, but my editor seems to have given up on me. Thanks all! And enjoy :)
"I'm going out."
Sam didn't respond; too engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop. Dean took that to mean he didn't care and grabbed a jacket on his way out the door. What the hell did he have to research anyways? They were going up against the devil tomorrow with nothing but four rings and a shit-ton of stupidity.
He took a deep breath of the cool night air. If by some miracle he made it out alive tomorrow, he'd be alone. Sam would be in the Cage. Fuck. Thinking about living without Sam was completely out of the question. That would lead to a freak out. He was not going to freak out. He really wasn't. His brother had already been sort of distant since the Elysian Fields hotel, although personally, Dean figured let the pagan gods be damned; he was just happy that they'd gotten out alive. But repressing was the Winchester way so Dean just acted like nothing was wrong and didn't bug him. If Sam wanted to care and share, well he could do whatever he wanted but damn it if Dean was going to be the one to start that conversation.
He reached the local bar with no mishaps and once inside, ordered a beer. Getting laid would be a great distraction from what was coming tomorrow and if this was going to be his last night alive, well, he might as well drown some sorrows in booze and women. Last chance to, right?
He scanned the room, hoping to find some good-looking girl to proposition. And of course. On his last night on earth there were no women whatsoever in the bar (well, there was a cross dresser, but he wasn't going to go there). Fuck. Well there went that idea. He guessed he'd just have to go for part A of his previous plan: the whole drowning sorrows in booze thing. No time like the present. He finished his beer and ordered a couple shots of whiskey. Okay… Not thinking about Sam. Not thinking about tomorrow. He downed his first shot. What was left? Cas? Fucking Cas! Why the hell did he have to make Dean feel all tingly when he was around? Because Dean really didn't think about guys that way. But why did he – Nope. Shit. Not going there either. Repression. Repression. Repression. Not going into any of that complicated, weird-ass feelings crap.
He was just finishing his second shot and wasn't paying enough attention to hear someone come up behind him.
"Hello Dean."
"Holy shit Cas! We talked about this. You do not sneak up on people like that."
"My apologies," Cas replied, staring at Dean with those intense blue eyes and sounding as sincere as ever. "I did not mean to startle you."
"Yeah, whatever… So, uh, why are you here?"
"You seemed… out of sorts earlier and you look like you are feeling even worse now."
"And that's your problem because?"
"I was going to ask if I could help."
Oh the irony. What would help Dean is if the angel would get as far away from him as freaking possible so he didn't have to worry about his damn heart rate, which had incidentally increased quite a bit since Cas arrived. So Dean didn't have to worry about the urge to grab him by the lapels of his stupid trench coat and kiss the living daylights out of him. Because whatever he did or did not want to do to Cas, Dean definitely did not want to ruin whatever weird, messed up friendship they had. He didn't want Cas to leave him too.
"Cas I…" Oh god. He was giving Dean the puppy eyes. "Ok. Fine"
And before Dean could protest, Cas had brought two fingers to his forehead and they were gone.