Chapter 1. Questions
Cas wiped a hand down his face, squirming on the hard kitchen chair he has been sitting on for the last hour. He checks the battery life of his phone. 34%. He should just charge his phone and call Dean later. But he knew he wouldn't. He would just delay again and again like he had been doing the past four days. There was no good reason his anxiety should be so high. This was normal. People got married. So why did he hate to talk about it with Dean? Because it made his stomach queasy. It made him feel like everything in his life was fake. Like he was fake. Like everything he had ever done...almost everything he had ever done had been fake. He was a fraud. His head dropped to the table for not the first time, the phone dropping as his hands went limp with self hatred. He jerked back up when the table vibrated like a jack-hammer and 'Back in Black' started to play.
"Shit," Cas snapped, flipping the phone to see 'Dean Calling'. It was like he had stressed so loud across the universe that Dean heard him. He could let it go. He could just answer it. He could put his fucking adult pants on and answer the damn phone and handle his shit. That's what he should do! He swiped the screen quickly.
"Hello, Dean."
"Hey, Cas. Whatcha doin'?"
"Um..." Sitting at my table freaking out because I'm too chicken-shit to call you.
Dean huffed a laugh. "Need a drink? Cause, I need a drink. I'm headed to the Roadhouse. You want me to stop and pick you up?"
No! It was one thing to have this stupid conversation. It was another to have it to your face! "Umm..."
"Let me guess," Dean teased, Cas seeing his friend's smile through the words, "you are sitting at your kitchen table freaking out about something."
Cas sat back, glancing around the room guiltily. "Well, no."
"Liar."
Cas sighed.
"I'll be there in two minutes. Get ready."
"Dean, no," Cas insisted. "I have to..."
"You have to spend two hours with your best friend, Castiel. If you don't, I'm crossing you off my best friend list."
"You always say that," Cas moped, rolling his eyes.
"One minute, Sunshine."
"Fine," Cas growled. He hung up the phone and went to his bedroom to get dressed. His work clothes were not going to cut it for a night out with Dean. He dropped his dress pants and shirt in the hamper, hung his tie on his doorknob, and rifled for jeans and a t-shirt.
He really needed to do laundry. He was down to three crappy t-shirts at the bottom of his drawer.
Cas pulled a maroon hoodie from the back of a kitchen chair and was still getting his left arm in the sleeve when he walked out to Dean's awaiting beast of a car.
He took his familiar seat, riding shotgun.
"Dude, what are you wearing?" Dean asked, pulling Cas' hoodie back to show the t-shirt underneath. "Not the bee shirt!" The shirt had a cartoon picture of a bee getting an eye check-up. The doctor saying, "Very good, sir, you have 20/20/20/20/20/20/20 vision."
Cas snatched his hoodie back. "It's funny," Cas said, staring Dean down.
"No," Dean laughed.
"You're laughing. See?" Cas grinned, sitting back in his seat.
"I am not laughing with you, Cas," Dean grinned, throwing his arm over the back of his seat to back out into the parking lot of Cas' condo complex, "I'm laughing AT you."
Cas grinned. "You're still laughing."
"You only think it's funny because you're an eye doctor. That likes bees. I mean really, how many people are there like that in the world? Ten? And the chances of us running into them at the Roadhouse are pretty friggin' slim."
"Well, it made you laugh. And we aren't even there yet," Cas grinned.
Dean shook his head, focusing on driving instead of Cas.
"Why are you in need of a drink?" Cas asked. There was no music playing, so Dean wasn't feeling 'frisky'.
"Shit day."
Cas nodded. His own shit day had not even started yet. He definitely needed alcohol to make it through this conversation.
"Why are you drinking?" Dean asked, stopping for a red light.
"Because this asshole called me and made me go out," Cas deadpanned.
"Really. What a dick."
Cas nodded. "He's been called worse."
Dean laughed, slugging Cas' shoulder in jest.
Once in the Roadhouse and sitting at the bar, beers in hands, Dean's shoulders finally relaxed a notch.
Cas knew Dean. Knew every face. Every eye role. His tells were ineffective on Cas. Tonight, something was wearing him down. An old problem. Something no one could fix, most likely. He was an expert in many things, including self deprecation. He bumped his elbow into Dean's, making him look at him. "What's going on, Dean?"
"Nothin'. Just didn't feel like sitting around alone," Dean shrugged.
Cas nodded. Nothing to be done about that one. Dean had a nasty habit of chasing people away. He was skilled at hooking them in, breaking their hearts, and making them hate him. It was like clockwork. He had watched Dean continue this pattern through all his phases. Freshman year, Dean chased girls almost as much as they chased him. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. Sophomore year, Dean decided he was bi. It was a year of discovery, yet his MO never changed. Wham, bam, thank you insert gender here. It was a rough year at home more than at school. Junior year Dean decided he was definitely not bi. He was gay. And still...wham, bam, thank you man. It was like watching a train wreck. And the casualties were high, Cas not excluded. But Cas never left his side. He had tried his damnedest to make Dean see that he was worth more than the crap relationships he went for. He was worth something. Hell, he was worth everything.
Cas finished his beer and asked Rufus for two Jack and Cokes.
Senior year had by far been the best year. The work load was hell. But Dean had slowed down to a simmer on the dating front. Dean was pretty much solely Cas' for that year. Two best friends against the world, so to speak. They lived together off campus, not returning home the summer before Senior year. It had been a time of maturing. But then they graduated. Real life. That thing outside their window for the past four years marched right up and stood between them as vast and scary as jumping off a cliff. Alone. Dean got a job. In Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Cas had taken it quite poorly. And that window that let real life in, snapped shut on any further opportunities. Cas had freaked. He was supposed to be leaving for his undergraduate studies at University of Chicago. A highly sought-after residency. But he could find something in Sioux Falls, surely. He had his bags packed in their crappy apartment and waited for Dean to come home. His newly hatched plan sounding better by the second in his own mind. When Dean pulled up, he was on his phone. Cas could hardly wait. He wanted to spill his soul out on the front porch as he anxiously waited for Dean to hang up. He was finally going to tell him that he loved him. He had loved Dean for years. He wanted to stay together. Forever. He would dump his girlfriend and they could both go to South Dakota. But before Dean hung up, he blushed and said, "I love you too."
Cas' stomach clenched. 'Love'. It certainly wasn't his parents. Dean was not close to them. "Was that Sam?" Cas asked, desperately wanting to hear a 'yes'. Instead, Dean shattered all his hopes with a nervous little laugh. "No."
Cas did not want to hear what came next. He didn't even really like Benny.
"It was Benny."
Cas nodded. "Oh."
Benny had been hanging around an awful lot lately. It had taken Benny a long time to weasel his way to friend status, which Cas did not agree with, and not too long after that, Dean and Benny were inseparable.
"He's coming to South Dakota with me," Dean grinned.
"That's...great," Cas grinned, wanting to vomit. He was too late. He had missed his chance. And it hurt. It hurt that he could be so in love and Dean was on another page totally. And at the same time, it wasn't Dean's fault at all. Cas had been dating the same girl since high school. Amelia. Not that they had not had a few...moments that maybe weren't normal for most friends. But still.
"Where you at, man?" Dean asked, bumping his elbow, shocking Cas back to the present. The semi-noisy bar surrounding him.
"Nowhere. Here. I'm...I'm getting married."
Dean's face went slightly tight, like it did anytime Amelia was around or talked about. It made Cas' stomach tighten.
"I know," Dean said, looking ahead with a dead stare.
"I mean...the wedding is going to be in a few months," Cas clarified. Dean nodded with disinterest. "I'm...I wanted to ask you to be my best man."
Dean's head snapped around, their eyes locking. Dean's mouth dropped but closed quickly. "Your..."
"Best man," Cas said, turning the almost empty glass of Jack and Coke nervously in his hands.
Dean's eyes froze for a second. The green shifting too quickly in them to read. "Yeah! Of course I will, man!" Dean's face broke into a grin and Cas breathed again.
"I gotta say, I figured it would be Gabe," he grinned.
Cas rolled his eyes. "He hates Amelia. For no good reason, really. And he's...Gabriel. God only knows what sort of Bachelor party he would set up. I'd probably end up arrested and have to call the wedding off."
Dean laughed. "Yeah. Maybe. I've thrown some crazy parties in my day," Dean leered a mischievous grin at him. "Your bachelor party could turn out pretty epic!"
"Please," Cas begged, putting a hand on Dean's forearm. "I just want something simple. Like...just...me and you and DVDs. Something quiet."
"God," Dean scoffed. "How are we even friends, Novak?" The name took Cas back to their Freshman year when that was what Dean called him.
"The invitations went out today. You will be getting one." All Cas could do at this point was ride it out. The hollow happiness and the strained silences between them. For most of their friendship, there was an understanding between the two men that they just didn't talk about her. Things were so much easier when it was just the two of them. Unfortunately, the real world never went away for long.
"You excited?" Dean asked tightly.
"For?" Cas asked, confused.
"Married life. You been with the same girl forever, so, it's kinda like you've been married forever."
Cas did not miss the thread of bitterness in Dean's words.
"You boys want another round?" Rufus asked.
"Yes," Dean said.
"No," Cas shook his head. "Water, please."
Rufus nodded and headed down the bar to fix an ice water and Dean's second Jack and Coke.
"I guess I'm excited," Cas answered, although he would rather just change the subject. "The money saving will be good. One rent instead of two. She cooks, so less eating out..."
Dean smirked. Amelia was barely able to cook. But even that was better than Cas' poor culinary skills.
Dean bit his lip, catching Cas' eye. Cas glanced away, but was drawn immediately back. "Cas," Dean started.
Cas looked away, taking his last drink. 'Please don't ask, please don't ask, please-'
"Are you sure this is what you want to do? Get married?"
Damnit. He asked. He knew this question would come up. And he had practiced for it. "Yeah. I mean, we've been dating forever. It seems only right we-"
"Seems only right?" Dean parroted.
"Well..." Cas felt paper thin.
"Do you love her?" Dean asked, making Cas twitch.
Cas dropped his head down to his arms. "I do. I love her. And...and she's pregnant."
Dean physically pulled back. "She's pregnant?"
"She is."
"From you?"
Cas glared at him hard.
"Sorry," Dean said, eyes dropping away and hand flying up in surrender. "Sorry."
"Yes. It's mine."
Dean huffed. "Well, shit just got really real."
Cas lifted his head, keeping his eyes down. "I'm not sure it's mine."
Dean turned on his stool, fully facing Cas. "You gotta find out. Cas...the whole Amelia thing...it's just so, not you. Please don't hate me for saying it, cause I'm still your best man. I'm freakin' honored," he said, putting a hand over his chest, "to be your best man. I just...you. You are my friend. My best friend. I know you. And Amelia just...seems so...not right for you."
Cas put the heels of his palms firmly against both eyes, unable to look at Dean. "This is what I want," he said firmly. He wished he could get a lot more drunk. "Amelia is so scared, Dean. Her parents are just as strict as mine."
He felt a warm hand on his back and knew it was Dean's. "I'm sorry, Cas. I will do whatever you want me to."
Cas nodded. In a rare moment of letting his guard down, he tipped over, falling into Dean's chest, the hand on his back pulling him in to a hug.
"It's gonna be okay," Cas sighed.
Dean's head dropped down onto the top of his own head. "Hey, free sex every night," Dean grinned.
Cas huffed a laugh. "I doubt it." He pulled himself up, sitting again and Dean finished his drink.
Cas woke the next morning with a pounding headache. It wasn't a hangover either. He shuffled into the kitchen to start his much needed coffee.
He heard a groan from the couch. Dean. Rather than take him home, Cas drove them both back to his own place and had Dean sleep on the couch. They did it often enough. Often Cas would sleep out in the living room with him. He would curl up like a cat on his recliner or sleep on the floor.
Last night he had needed the space. And the door. He had a path. A plan. He needed to stick to it.
He poured two glasses of water and carried them out to the living room. He flopped onto Dean's legs, making him squirm like a fish out of water, making Cas grin.
"Omigod," Dean muttered.
"Here. Pills. Water."
"No. Goway."
"Dean, you gotta go to work," Cas bounced and grinned when Dean squinted painfully at him.
"I hate you," Dean said in a tired, wrecked voice.
"You love me. Now get out of my house, Winchester."
Cas stood up, sitting the water and pills on his end table.
Dean said unintelligible things into the pillow until Cas was back in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee.
He pulled Dean's mug down from the cabinet. A chipped and repaired Han Solo mug. It matched his Chewbacca mug. Dean got it for him for Christmas when they lived in the dorm. He had always told him he had the social skills of Chewie. It wasn't funny until after he had seen the movies and chewed out some girl for saying something snotty to Dean in line at a bakery. Dean just patted him on the shoulder and said, "Calm down, Chewie." They had laughed about it ever since.
Dean shuffled into the kitchen, taking the full mug without a word.
"I drank your bottle of...whatever that was I found on top of the fridge last night."
"Dean," Cas frowned, glancing at the top of the fridge. Nope, he had not been joking. "There was probably 6 shots of Fireball in there!"
"I feel like I ate a cinna-heart factory," Dean frowned, fist bumping just under his sternum.