AN: A commentfic-meme over at LJ. Coda to 5x16. Friendship, Team Free Will
We Got You
"Cas, come on. Answer the phone, dammit."
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Sam growled and kicked the vending machine next to their motel room and looked across the street at the bar across the street, where he knew Dean would be. Probably drinking his sorrows away. At 3'o clock in the afternoon. He sighed and looked down at the phone, dialling again.
"Sam?" a voice said, from behind him.
He turned and found Castiel, his shoulders slumped and his expression dejected. Sam closed his phone and took a step forward, "Hey, why did you turn off your phone? And how did you know I was calling?"
Castiel parted his lips, before closing it, his eyes flickering to the floor. "I--I didn't go far. I just…stayed here."
He was talking to the asphalt. The damn Angel of the deadbeat Lord was taking to the damn ground. Sam stepped forward and pulled Castiel into a hug, who stiffened at first, before melting onto the hug completely. He didn't wrap his arms around Sam in return, but instead, stayed still, closing his eyes.
When Sam finally pulled away, Castiel nearly just about fell over. However, he caught himself, nodding his head gratefully. In Team Free Will, there was no need for words, well, maybe, sometimes. Especially when it came to Dean.
Castiel frowned and turn his head, "Dean?"
Sam sighed, nodding towards the bar, "Drinking. Probably trying to drown himself in cheap scotch. It really got to him, Zachariah. He said things…"
"What things?" Castiel growled, turning his attention to Sam, who shrugged.
"Everyone leaving him, mom, dad, me. God, Cas, my version of heaven was when I left him for Stanford, or someone else's Thanksgiving, and when he got into shit in Flagstaff." Tears were prickling in Sam's eyes by the time he finished. Then he realized that he needed the hug just as much as Castiel did.
Castiel was staring at him, nodding his head slightly before pressing two fingers on his forehead.
"Cas, what the hell. Don't do that!"
To his own surprise, the sentiment didn't come from him but from Dean, who was sitting at the bar, nursing not a glass, but a bottle of scotch. Sam straightened up and took a deep breath, "Dean."
"Sam."
He felt a nudge on his leg and turned to see Castiel nodding at him.
Sam turned back around and found Dean glaring at them. He took a step forward and did the exact same thing he did for Castiel, and pulled his brother into a hug.
Dean growled and tried to pull away, "Sam, what the hell--we're at a bar!" However, instead of allowing him, Sam only pulled him tighter, burying his face against Dean's shoulder.
"Please Dean. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please."
Dean stopped and looked at Castiel from over Sam's shoulder and found the angel nodding at him, smiling sadly. Then, he sighed and wrapped his arms around Sam, hugging him back fiercely, earning him the softest sobs of relief.
"It's OK Sammy," he muttered, closing his eyes. "I got you."
Dean opened his eyes and patted his brother's shoulder, his eyes flickering over to Castiel again.
"We got you."