AUTHOR'S NOTES - This fic is written for smartassmusicjunkie94, who wanted a fic with Bobby finding out about Deana nd Castiel's relationship. This turned out way longer than expected, but I hope you enjoy it. =^x^=
Dean looked down upon the body sprawled haphazardly at the entrance to a South Dakota antique shop, eyes wide, staring, lifeless. The body was covered with cuts, slices, slashes as though the flesh had been carved into with the blade of a sword, or at the very least a sharp knife. He glanced up when Sam approached, and saw that his brother's face mirrored his own disgust at the gruesome scene.
"So, what d'you did this? The ghost of a pissed off ax murderer?" Dean asked, gesturing down at the body, face disgruntled, refusing to even look at the body for longer than he had to.
It hadn't been the first person killed around the premises of the antiques shop. There had been in excess of at least ten before Dean and Sam got wind of it, called in by Bobby when it was leaked from police files that the killings weren't ordinary like they were first supposed to be. It seemed that each victim had been murdered when they were alone, the shop locked, their bodies dumped outside in the morning.
"They're knife cuts, Dean, or sword cuts at the very least. Slices with a blade, not an ax," Sam corrected, hands on hips as his lips pursed in disgust, uncertainty, almost disapproval that was probably directed more at his brother than the dead body still laying sprawled at their feet.
"Okay, it was a mad knife thrower, or a loony sword slasher or something," Dean said, with an expansive shrug. "The sick son of a bitch still needs to be ganked whichever way you look at it."
Sam nodded, not rising to Dean's bait, barely looked up when Castiel suddenly popped into existence beside them, briefly touching Dean's shoulder in greeting and giving him a small, serene smile of support. Dean smiled back, gaze tender as he stared at the angel beside him.
"Hey, Cas," he said, quietly.
"Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam," Castiel replied, turning his gaze first to Dean then to his brother, translucent blue eyes flickering down to the body at their feet.
His brow furrowed, as though confused by something, eyes darker now than previously, raising his head as though sniffing something in the air around them. His gaze darted around the street, searching, intrusive, inquisitive, mouth set in a determined line when he came up with nothing.
"Cas? What's up, dude? You look like you've seen a ghost," Dean said, as Sam watched the angel closely.
"Or smelt something bad," Sam supplied, as Castiel's gaze settled once more upon their intent faces.
"An angel has been here," he announced, voice quiet, strained, sadness mixed in with his deep tones.
"An angel? Here? But why?" Sam asked, turning Castiel to face him with one large hand placed upon Castiel's shoulder.
The angel looked up at the younger hunter and shook his head, as though disgraced by his own inability to tell him anything.
"I don't know, Sam. I wish I did," he said, hands pushed deep within the pockets of his trenchcoat, shoulders slumped in defeat, eyes cast down to stare at the paved sidewalk beneath their feet.
Dean glared at Sam in warning, stare sharp, forbidding, warning clear within that one look and Sam stepped back, conceding to the warning, noting the tension within his brother's body. He knew that Dean was protective of his angel, knew that he couldn't push things too far with either Castiel or Dean; the angel, after all, was doing his best to help them with limited resources.
He walked away, looked up at the sky, each way down the street, before turning back, and saw Dean talking to Castiel, leaning in close, bodies almost touching in their shared privacy. Castiel was looking at Dean with wide, trusting eyes, replying occasionally but mostly seemed content in letting Dean talk. Sam watched them for a while, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth at the couple, so obviously in love it hurt to watch. His smile broadened when Dean cupped Castiel's cheek and kissed him gently, lips lingering against each other's mouths tenderly.
Dean looked up and over at Sam when the kiss ended, gestured to his brother to join them and stop watching them, and Sam closed the distance between them, smiled when Castiel turned large blue eyes up to his. The younger hunter patted the angel on the shoulder, smiled when Castiel's expression brightened by the brief, rare show of almost affection from Sam.
"What's happening? What were you talking about? Anything rude? If so, tell me," Sam said, laughing suddenly at the taken aback expression on Dean's face at that comment and the blank look on Castiel's.
"We were talking about what angel Castiel might have sensed here. He didn't know. We thought we'd go to Bobby's, see if he knows," Dean replied, looking at his brother dubiously, from the corner of his eye. "The hell I'd tell you anything about what I get up to with Cas, anyway."
Sam's smile faded, and he looked sour instead over his failed attempt at a joke.
"Yeah," he said, looking away, observing the progress of police making their way up the street towards them.
When he looked back, Dean had already looked away, but Castiel, at least, was smiling, a rare show of amusement settled deep within his eyes at the brothers banter. Sam smiled back at him, realizing more clearly than ever in that one instant that they were the only friends, the closest thing to family that the angel had. He nodded at Castiel, tried to show him that he was wanted with them and Castiel offered him a wistful smile in return, realizing what Sam had implied.
"We good? Are we going?" Dean asked, turning his gaze to Castiel's when the angel slid his hand around Dean's, fingers curling around the hunter's palm.
Dean squeezed the angel's hand, own fingers wrapped protectively around Castiel's more slender ones, as they followed Sam away from the dead body still laying upon the ground, back to the Impala and from there, on to Bobby's.