Fandom Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing(s) Castiel, Sam; take what pairing as you will
Genre Deleted Scene/Episode related/Friendship/Mild Angst
Rating PG
Word Count 503
Disclaimer Supernatural c. Kripke, CW, WB
Summary Castiel and Sam in the motel room in season six episode twelve.
Warning(s) spoilers up through and including season six episode twelve
Notes My mind started to reinterpret a gesture and this fic kind of flowed out from that point.
It Will Work Out
The hug was because Sam needed one. Castiel felt and saw Sam's soul ripped apart and then sewn back together inside out days ago. He knew Dean and knew Sam and somehow walking forward, extending his arms felt like the right thing to do. It felt like something Sam – anyone with a soul like that – would need.
Sam, of course, put him gently in his place before any awkward moments could occur. Castiel was uncertain how awkward it would have been, though he did have a vague recollection of being so drunk off his ass once that he clung to the younger Winchester brief seconds before heaving the contents of some poor liquor cabinet onto the man's plaid shirt and jeans. Yes, Castiel supposed, after their only other experience with such a gesture went that badly, any subsequent hug would be awkward.
It was not hard to tell Sam knew nothing. Castiel knew both brothers were smart and capable in their own ways. If Dean and Bobby really had told Sam anything about the past year and a half in full and truthfully, Sam would not have called upon Castiel in the first place. Castiel remained standing and Sam remained sitting through the entire account. It was not detailed or verbose, but Castiel spoke through most incidents, offering the most concise version he could.
"It's not everything," he finished, "but that's what I know."
Sam was silent a long, long moment. His eyebrows furrowed for a countless time since Castiel began explaining. "You must be busy. If you're fighting…"
A brief gloss over the angelic civil war occurred to explain Balthazar and his meddling. It also was forewarning because if there was a way to reunite Sam with Lucifer, there were angels and demons who would try to make that reality. "It would be irresponsible not to tell you, Sam." Castiel shifted his weight. "You won't like it, but you're a pawn in this civil war. Dean is too. There are even some angels who would try to kill both of you to prevent the Apocalypse from resetting." Castiel's eyes grew dark. "I can't watch always, I can't be here immediately, but," he held Sam's gaze, "it will," he tried to think of the right phrase, "work out." The statement ended hollow, uncertain.
"Are you trying to appease me, Cas?" Sam looked up at him. He could almost remember the fake laughter that accompanied Castiel promising to watch out for Dean and Bobby at the field. It was that same tense, uneasy voice only without the laughter this time.
There was a pause. "Yes." Castiel abruptly looked skyward and his wings rustled. "I have to go." Then he was gone, an emergency on the battlefield wherever that may be.
Sam stared at the spot Castiel stood in for a long, long moment. At first, he had been put out when Dean went to track down the equivalent of Excalibur by himself, but now Sam had his time to think through all he heard.
The End