Time Bomb

- Daianta

Summary: Sam is growing annoyed with Dean and Castiel's inability to talk to each other. He wanted them to get along, but he wasn't sure if this was the right answer...

Word Count: 1850

Do you ever get that random itch where you just have to write? Yeah, this is the result of that...

The tension in the air was touchable. It swirled around the three occupants in the room, and seemed to be extra heavy for two people. They were pointedly not looking at each other, instead focusing on preparing for a certain apocalypse that they were sure they would not win. Sam sighed as Dean moved, turning his back on the angel engrossed in a book. He responded by shifting his weight slightly, noticing the hunter turning his back on him.

Sam felt like punching something in anger and desperation. They were in the middle of a war, and Dean and Castiel were in an argument or something. Something was preventing them from talking to each other, and it was really starting to wear down the youngest Winchester's resolve. He didn't understand why they had problems with each other, but they needed to sort it. Soon.

The motel room was dark, the only light source was the three pockets of lamplight that illuminated faces, throwing dark shadows around and distorting the negative spaces when one looked out of the corner of their eye. This was the time when paranoia would set in, seeing things in the dark that weren't really there.

The place was sparsely furnished, with two beds occupying the corner, a sofa, some armchairs and a broken television opposite. There was an almost empty bookcase near to where Sam was sitting, a bible, ironically, on the top shelf all by itself.

He flipped another page of his book and looked back over to his laptop, finding it hard to concentrate with all the tension. Sam peered over the top of the brightly lit laptop to look at his angel friend. Castiel was looking at Dean over the top of his book, but as he felt himself being watched, he returned to scanning the pages with his eyes.

It was when Dean did something similar that Sam knew there was something going on between them. It was probably the source of the overbearing feeling in the room; both of them were trying hard to overcome their feelings. Sam didn't know how to feel with that knowledge.

On one hand, he wanted his brother to be happy, and had no issue with whoever his brother dated, but... It was the fact that he wanted an angel that was the problem. Were angels even allowed to date? Would God, if he even existed, allow a relationship between two men? He thought to the conspiracies that surrounded the bible, and the conspiracy about Jesus' homosexuality, before he brushed the thought aside.

He shut the screen, before standing up to stretch his legs, feeling a muscle stretch out underneath him.

"I'm going outside... For some air."

Dean looked up at him, frowning for a moment. "Don't be gone long, no where's safe."

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied, picking up his coat from the back of his chair. He noticed that Castiel was looking at him, and he faced the angel. He said nothing, but there was something in his eyes. Sam shook his head and raised an eyebrow before leaving the room, and almost slamming the door shut behind him.

He had to leave them alone, to get whatever they had between them out of their systems. Their research was going nowhere while they were constantly bitching at each other, and the whole silence thing was not working for them either. Sam felt trapped in the centre of it all, a third wheel.

He walked into town, slowly, hands in pockets and head bent low. He wished he had taken a weapon with him, but he was more than capable of taking care of himself. His pockets felt empty without some form of backup, but he knew that the Enochian spells carved into his ribs would help keep him hidden from the Angels that may come after him.

A light spattering of rain was beginning to fall, and Sam cursed his luck, heading into a small, slightly dilapidated café at the end of the street. It seemed almost hidden, and it was devoid of people, with the exception of the woman behind the counter. She seemed to beam as she approached Sam, and offered him a coffee. He accepted and chose a seat next to the window, watching as the heavens opened and the rain began to pour.

He laughed at his metaphor. He could imagine the Archangels falling from heaven to wreak havoc on Earth, especially Gabriel. The Trickster would have a field day with it all, and Sam found himself laughing. Although he and Gabriel never always saw eye to eye, there was something about him that made the hunter want to trust him. He loved humanity like God did, his father, and Sam appreciated that. Michael, Lucifer and Raphael didn't seem to understand humans at all.

He nursed his coffee as he waited for the rain to abate, and allow him to go back to the motel room. Sam was glad for the rain, really, as it gave Dean and Castiel a longer time to get their arguments out of the way.

The rain had finally stopped. It had only been for a short while, half an hour at maximum. In that time, Sam had drank two cups of coffee and had eaten a sandwich. It had drained on their resources, he had to admit, but they may come to thank him for it later on.
He stood up, slowly, before thanking the woman at the counter and leaving. She was scrubbing at the worktop furiously, a woman trait that Sam did not understand but she trilled back a 'thank you' none the less, and allowed Sam to leave. The streets were soggy as he made his way back up the street, passing shop fronts and a few pedestrians brave enough to emerge so soon after the rain.

The sun poked out from the clouds to reflect and glare off shiny surfaces, almost blinding Sam more than once. He merely snapped his eyes closed and continued on, opening them when he felt it was safe to do so. He so hoped the situation at the motel would be sorted.

As he approached the path leading up to the place, he felt his heart begin to beat faster, hoping and praying that they would have sorted it out, everything would be normal again. He was sick and tired of his brother acting like he didn't have feelings, when he so obviously did, and Castiel's wounded puppy looks were wearing down his resolve.

They were, in Sam's honest opinion, ticking time bombs. If one exploded, so would the other, and they would both sit there not talking until they did explode, which caused a lot of headaches for everyone.

Sam took out his key and placed it into the slot in the handle, turning it slowly to reduce the noise. He didn't know why, but he really did not want to catch them in the middle of something. Still, he couldn't understand why he wasn't making more noise, to prepare them for his re-entry into the motel room.

The door opened with a soft click and he pushed it gently, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the door to poke his head around. He found himself wanting to regret it.

There was a tangle of limbs on the bed that Dean was supposed to be sleeping on, silent as ghosts. Dean was on the bottom, surprisingly, while Castiel was on top, visible in his tan trench coat. Dean's hands were in his hair, mouths glued together. Castiel was obviously unsure where to put his hands, and had them on either side of Dean's head, preventing his weight from crushing the hunter, as well as giving them a bit of leverage in their current situation. Sam stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure whether to leave them alone or interrupt them.

It was then that Dean moved, flipping them over so he was on top. He stopped kissing Castiel to trail moist butterfly kisses down the column of his throat, the angel letting out a sound akin to a kitten. He let out a pant as Dean stopped his ministrations against his neck and made to remove the angel's jacket. Castiel opened his eyes, and caught sight of Sam standing in the doorway.

"Dean..." Castiel started, pressing a halting hand on Dean's shoulder. The hunter looked at him, before following his line of sight to find Sam standing there. He looked awkward, as if unsure whether to go away or not.

"Shit," Dean replied, crawling from the angel and standing upright, "Enjoying the show, Sam?"

"I'm sorry... I didn't know whether to interrupt you or leave."

Castiel sat up on the bed, thoroughly rumpled. His clothing looked as if he had been attacked, and Sam sympathised with him; he looked awkward and confused. Dean had run a hand down his face, tapping a finger against his lip. It looked like Castiel had bitten him there.

"Yeah, I know. It took us a little longer to... Sort out our argument, so to speak," Dean replied, lifting a hand to help up the angel. When Cas was standing, Dean still had hold of his hand, a look across his face that made him glow, in a metaphorical sense. Dean was not normally one for much emotion, calling it a chick-flick thing, but Christ; Dean was happy. Happier than Sam had seen him for a long time. Evidentially, this... fling between Castiel and he had been a long time coming.

The angel was similar to Dean, Sam saw slyly. Where Dean was radiant Castiel was vivid red, the stain highlighting his cheeks. He wasn't used to the emotions that flooded through during such an activity, but Sam could see his hands emanating a light that made him appear Angelic. He laughed at his comment, considering Cas was an angel. He was happy too, and he realised that they had been denying their feelings for too long.

"Um.." Sam pulled a face, and pointed to the outside world, "I'm going to give you a little privacy. Call me when you want me back."

Dean nodded, and pulled the angel to him again, pressing lips to his fervently, a growl escaping his throat. Cas took the hint and ran his hands through Dean's short hair, pulling them towards the bed.

Sam didn't want to see that, and shut the door behind him, feeling suspiciously like the third wheel. He knew that Castiel and Dean's relationship would work, they would try hard at it and not let it go. Castiel had saved Dean from Hell, literally, pulling him out of there when he shouldn't have to. Castiel could have died on that rescue mission, and had succeeded where other angels would have failed. Sam saw that it was motivated by love; the whole escapade had. Only a bond formed like that would survive the Apocalypse, and Sam sincerely hoped Castiel could make Dean happy, because God knew he needed it.

Fin.