Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Goddamn summer hiatus, I just can't help myself. I have to keep writing just to keep the Dean/Cas love alive. Will be made into a full story. Nothing after Sam gets his soul has happened.
Take a sad song…
Dean lay quietly in a hard motel bed. The feeling of scratchy polyester sheets making him itch in the most uncomfortable places. He could hear cheers and excited screams from outside as people celebrated the New Year. A bottle of Jack hung from his long fingers as his arm hovered over the floor. This was his New Year's celebration; apart from Sammy who wouldn't speak to him, away from Castiel who also wouldn't speak to him, and ignoring the copious amounts of calls from Bobby who he doesn't want to speak to.
After receiving his soul back, Sam was angry. He could remember everything, yet he wasn't hurt or demented in any way. He just remembered. Just as Dean did. He'd lost control on Dean, punching him as many times as he could before Castiel restrained him. That was when Dean was sure Cas was on his side until he zapped Sam to sleep and turned his angry gaze unto the older Winchester.
"Don't expect me to praise you on this Dean," he said in a deep tone.
"Cas, what-"
"Shut up. Don't expect me to thank Death, or you or whoever else was involved in this disgusting deal. You have dishonored your brother."
Castiel had left shortly after Dean had stuttered to find a response. Bobby had simply given him an envelope of money, a bite to eat and a clap on the back. They'd decided that Sam should stay with him while Dean hit the road. He wasn't exactly sure if they had decided on this as much as Bobby had decided on this.
A flutter of wings broke through his thoughts and he let a groan rise in his throat. What did that winged bastard want now?
"Dean."
He didn't bother to reply, instead taking a deep swig of his Jack. The angel shuffled in impatience, shifting closer to the bed.
"Dean."
"I heard you the first time."
"You didn't reply."
"I didn't want to."
Castiel chuckled slightly before sitting on the bed beside him. He decided to ignore the annoyed grunt Dean gave as the bed shifted weight and instead tsk-ed the younger man's name. Annoyed even more, Dean looked over at him.
"Cas, are you here to be a pain in my ass or what?" he growled.
"Bobby asked me to check up on you," he replied softly, staring at the ceiling.
"Why?"
Castiel met his eyes, "Dean, he hasn't heard from you in over a week. He's sure you're lying in a ditch somewhere, nursing a bottle of whiskey, and crooning Metallica."
He held back a snort, "I'm assuming those are his words, not yours."
The angel ignored him, eyeing the bottle of liquor dangling from his hand, "Well, he was partially right."
"Blow me."
"I don't even know what that means."
He opened his mouth for a moment before thinking better of it and closed it again. Castiel shrugged and took the bottle of liquor from his charge, setting it on the floor beside his feet. Dean grunted in protest but Cas held up a hand to silence him.
"You smell like a beggar," he stated, reaching to untie Dean's shoes.
"Cas."
"You need to bathe, lay off the alcohol and get some rest," he continued, "I'll be here when you're done."
"Cas-" he started again, clearly belligerent in his drunken state.
He was fixed with an icy blue stare, "Dean."
And there was the end of that argument.