Dean sat, an elbow resting on his desk, his chin cradled in his open palm. Under the light of the art deco lamp the black book stared at him, competing for his attention with Michael's deafening banging.
All but one.
He had all the information he needed. It couldn't have been clearer. The choice was obvious. He knew that he would make the right decision. He had already laid out the plan in his mind. Every single step. It was perfect. It couldn't go wrong. And yet...
He sighed. Every moment of hesitation could mean the end of the world. The door would not hold forever. He could feel it weaken with every hit. He needed to act. Quickly.
He got up and slowly walked to his closet. He wouldn't need clothes, but he had to give the illusion of a short trip. He grabbed items at random, throwing them on his bed. He went to his chest of drawers and pull out a few more things. As he threw a bundle of clothes, a piece of paper fell to the floor. He picked it up. It was a picture of the two brothers with Bobby, a memory from happier times. He sighed and slipped the picture in the chest pocket of his flannel. He rubbed his face. Come on. Get on with it.
He chucked the clothes in a bag then walked to the dungeon. He knew exactly what he needed and where to find it. He was done before anyone could notice that he'd been in there. Quietly, he brought the bag back to his room and sat back at his desk. One step closer. He just needed to get out of here to put the plan in action. He looked around his room, trying his best to memories every small detail. This place had been the home he's wanted for so long. Truth be told, even through the worst of it all, he had always held the conviction that he would come back here. No matter what. Once again, he had been wrong. Happiness had truly never been in the cards for him. He chuckled. He had grown soft. Of course happiness was not in the cards; hunters didn't do happily ever after.
He got up and grabbed his bag. Time to say his goodbyes. He was glad that most of the crew was out. Less chatting meant less chances of the peoples he loved finding out the truth. He took a last look at his bedroom and turned off the light. The old switch clicked ominously. Or had it always sounded like that? He'd never noticed. He closed the door.
He walked down the hallway and peeked in Jack's room through the ajar door. The nephilim was engrossed with a computer game, distractedly shoving chips in his mouth when he had the chance. Dean smiled. The kid had turned out alright. He was glad Sam hadn't let him kill the boy. He shuddered at the thought. What as mess that would have been. He shook his head and decided against disturbing Jack. Chances are he would feel something was amiss. Dean readjusted the strap of his bag and walked on.
A few meters down, he arrived at Castiel's door. He hesitated a moment. Would it be better to just say goodbye to Sam and be on his way? He was afraid of what he would do if talked to the angel. He doubted Cas would noticed anything was wrong, but Dean didn't trust himself to keep his calm. At the same time, he knew it would hurt him deeply if he just walked away without parting words. He took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come in!"
Dean dropped his pack by the door and walked in. Cas sat in bed in a t-shirt and slacks. His laptop rested next to him, the screen displaying some kind of lore related website.
"Everything ok?"
The Winchester swallowed hard. The inside of his mouth felt like sandpaper. His hands were sweaty.
"Ah... uhm. Yeah, yeah. Just wanted to let you know that I was going to go see Mom at Donna's cabin. So I won't be around for a... for a few days."
Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He felt like the word liar was emblazoned in bright glowing letters on his forehead. Cas' brow furrowed. He swung his legs to the side of the bed and got up.
"Is that safe? Maybe you should stay here. If Michael gets out while you're away..."
He got closer to Dean as he let his sentence trail off. The man tensed.
"I'm fine... It's fine. Please keep and eye on Jack, yeah?"
Cas nodded.
"Of course. I'll call if anything happens. Are you sure you're ok?"
Dean shook his head, shifted again. His heart was beating hard. Get out of here. Get out of here. Get out of here. He extended his right arm and patted the angel's left shoulder.
"Thanks, man. For everything."
Cas frowned. Before he could open his mouth the reply, Dean had taken him in an embrace. He squeeze him against his chest.
"You take care of yourself, okay?" he whispered.
Confused, the angel reciprocated the hug awkwardly. Dean's mind was racing. This hadn't been part of the plan. This was the opposite of the plan. He pulled away, mere centimeters from his friend's face. He closed his eyes and before he knew what he was doing, his lips were on Castiel's. He felt the angel tense for a split-second then his kiss was returned. Dean, in a daze, pulled away before the embrace could get deeper. He let go of Cas.
"Ah... Uhm. Not sure what that was about," he stuttered with a forced laugh. "Forget about it."
He turned around and left the room as fast as if hell hounds had been chasing him. In the hallway he grabbed his bag and bolted to the first corner before Cas could do or say anything. In his room, the angel sat on his bed and touched his lips. Had this really just happened? And if yes, what the hell was it all about?
Dean leaned against the wall. Why the hell had he done this for? If he wanted Cas to think something wrong, he'd done the best thing he could ever have. There was more to analyse in this single action but he had no time to deal with it right now. He needed to calm down or Sam would know for sure something was amiss. He took a few long, deep breaths. When he felt like he had recovered sufficiently, he set off for the reading room.
xxxx
Cas found Sam in the reading room. He looked around.
"Is Dean gone?" the angel asked.
Sam nodded. He looked distracted, preoccupied. He pinched his lips, thought of something, took a few steps, then changed his mind. He turned back to Castiel.
"Did he talk to you before he left?"
Castiel nodded. He felt the heat of this cheeks reddening. Sam didn't notice.
"Was he... off? Like, did he do something weird?"
For a split second Castiel wondered if Dean had kissed his brother. Common sense immediately pushed that idea away.
"How weird?" he asked, stalling.
Sam made a strange face.
"He... He hugged me. As far as I know, the world is not ending..."
"He kissed me" blurted Castiel.
Sam stared at his friend, bewildered.
"He kissed... what?"
"Kissed me. On the lips. There was no tongue but I can tell..." began Castiel.
Sam covered his ears.
"Stop! Stop! God, I will never get this image out of my head."
He took a deep breath.
"Something is definitely..."
He eyed Castiel, his mind still somewhere between disbelief and surprise.
"...wrong. I'm calling mom."
