I'll Make You Believe
Part 1
Castiel sat on the top step of the motel stairs, beer bottle in his hand and eyes cast down at his feet. It had been hours since Sam had left – or since they talked – and the fact the sun was going down and his brother wasn't back began to worry him. His brows furrowed as he finished the last sip of his beer and set the bottle next to him, the glass clinking against the cement step and breaking the silence of the air. Why on earth Sam had chosen this motel of all others in the area, Castiel didn't know, but the stillness of the air and lack of companionship was unnerving for him.
Sighing, Castiel buried his hand deep into one of the pockets of his trademark trench coat and flipped open his cell phone, hoping for a voicemail from a call he hadn't heard or at least a text message. His eyes noticed the one bar in the top corner, indicating that he had almost no service, and realized that Sam probably didn't either. Closing the flip phone and putting it away, Castiel picked up the bottle and stood, looking out over the landscape. It was pretty much bare and as far as he could see, there were no cars driving down the old gravel road in his direction. He didn't even hear the Impala in the distance, no matter how much he forced his ears to listen. But that's how it was – silent, still, and as if he were the only living thing on earth.
The door of the motel room Castiel and Sam were sharing stuck horribly. Castiel groaned with frustration as he shoved it open with his shoulder, stumbling into the dark room, the old TV the only source of light. Sam had drawn the blinds closed - much to Castiel's dismay, for he loved sunlight – and the lamp on the bedside table didn't work. Shaking his head, Castiel gingerly tossed his empty beer bottle into the tiny trashcan under the dirty counter. He ran a hand through his dark hair, turning around, when he gasped and stumbled back into the counter.
"Dean!" he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. He watched as Dean's straight face turned into a smirk, sitting up on Castiel's bed. This angel will be the death of me, Castiel thought, shaking his head.
"Cas," Dean said, nodding his head once, "I'm surprised you haven't prayed for me to visit yet. Where's Sam?" Castiel shrugged, walking over to the bed and taking a seat. He made sure he wasn't too close to Dean – everyone knew how the angel felt about his 'personal space.'
"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me that. We haven't spoken for quite a while," Castiel replied, checking his phone again. He watched Dean make a confused face at the device before shaking his head.
"What do you mean? Hah, did your little brother throw another fit again and leave? I've watched him do that so many times it's gotten annoying."
"No, no. He just left to do something a while ago and hasn't returned. Maybe I am over thinking things. Sam has done this before." Dean pursed his lips and stood up, the bed creaking. The angel shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Well, I'd say let's take off and find him," he said, walking over to the small window and peering through the slits of the blinds, "but it seems he's taken off in that car of yours."
"Yes." Castiel stared at his hands, studying the old burn marks he had received from when Dean had taken them as he pulled Castiel out of Hell. He remembered how he and Dean met, finally, after Dean's attempts to communicate with Castiel only to almost shatter his ear drums.
Suddenly, he felt the light hit of someone's rough palm on his cheek, and he snapped out of the memory. Dean was crouched to Castiel's level, looking into his eyes with no expression, hands shoved into his pockets again.
"You here with me, man?" Dean asked his voice low. Castiel blinked a few times before nodding. Dean backed up a bit and tapped his foot on the stained green carpet. His green eyes looked around the small room, taking in the peeling wallpaper and blue glow the TV gave the room.
"Wow, this place is a dump. Sam doesn't know there's a town like ten miles up the road from here with a nicer place?" Dean chuckled. "Then again, he's probably trying to save money or use less of those fake credit cards your dad gave you." Castiel exhaled sharply, remembering how much of the human world Dean actually understood, after watching it with a fascination for so long. Often, the angel would mumble on about how he wished he was human, but that was only when God was in a bad mood or Castiel and Sam had just gotten out of a good fight with some of Lucifer's buddies.
"I don't really know," Castiel said, "perhaps that is where he has gone."
"Cas," Dean sighed, looking at him in exasperation. Castiel looked back, slightly surprised at Dean's tone. "You and I both know that Sam didn't go look for another motel. I think I might have an idea." Dean bit his bottom lip, raising his brows expectantly. As if he was waiting for Castiel to respond.
"Well, Dean, if you do, then tell me," Castiel said, confused, "he is my brother, yes, but I never question him. He goes as he pleases and I leave it to that."
"Wow, I interrogate your brother more than you," Dean chuckled, shaking his head, "Cas, I think he went to a graveyard for a little visit." Castiel looked down at his hands again, noticing for maybe the hundredth time that Dean's hands were forever imprinted on his.
"You mean… to see Jessica?" Dean nodded once, holding out his hand.
"Let me see your phone."
"What?"
"Let me see it." Castiel quickly handed his phone over to Dean, who flipped it open and stared at it for a moment before pressing buttons. Sam always made Dean keep a cell phone on him in the mortal world, but Sam wasn't here, and Castiel knew how much Dean hated to keep such things in his pockets. Castiel wasn't going to make Dean use a cell phone and he was surprised he even wanted to use Castiel's.
"You haven't tried calling him yourself?" Dean wondered, putting the phone up to his ear. He looked at Castiel and knew immediately that Sam was always the one who called first. After a few rings from the phone, it went to Sam's voicemail.
"Sam," Dean said into the phone, "pick up your phone, man. Where'd you go? Call back or get back to the motel. Bye." Dean hung up and tossed the phone to Castiel, who caught it between his fingertips. Castiel set the device next to the lamp on the bedside table and stared at the beam of light on the floor that came from the TV. For the first time since he entered the motel, Castiel realized the TV wasn't even on a channel, just a blank blue screen. Dean followed the hunter's gaze and shook his head.
"Cas, are you okay? You've been kinda out of it lately," he asked, actually sounding worried. Castiel shrugged. He'd been quiet ever since he had delved into a serious friendship with Dean and it was really worrying everyone. Dean had even tried distancing himself, but it only made Castiel worse, so he stayed. He took note on how Castiel was praying to him less and Dean came more on his own account.
"Everyone asks me that, Dean," Castiel said, his tone harsher than it was meant to be. Dean's brow furrowed and he looked away, pouting slightly. Castiel looked at the angel apologetically.
"But yes, I'm fine." Dean didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he sat down next to Castiel on the bed – which sunk under their weight – and straightened Castiel's collar. Castiel's face became warmer instantly and he glanced away.
"Well, I have a feeling Sam won't be back for a while," Dean muttered, putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder. He laid back on the bed, pulling Castiel down with him. Castiel's breath hitched in his lungs as their eyes met. He always thought Dean had the most amazing eyes. Dean smiled gently, removing his hand from Castiel's shoulder and moving it down his arm, his fingertips finally touching the back of Castiel's hand. On instinct, Castiel moved his hand over, and Dean laced their fingers together tightly.
Holding Dean's hand was the greatest sensation Castiel had ever felt, and Castiel had done many things before. It gave him a very warm feeling throughout his whole body. Castiel's eyes flicked to Dean's full lips, which were pink with the warmth of the room – and maybe it was in his head, but the fact that he was totally blushing. Dean smiled in the most adorable way before closing his eyes and snuggling closer to Castiel, burying his face in his coat collar. Castiel inhaled deeply, Dean's soft hair tickling his jawline.
The two were never very personal like this. There was always someone around, someone watching. But there wasn't right now, for once, and they took the chance. Castiel smiled widely and closed the gap between him and Dean's bodies. Dean was very particular about his personal space, but there were always times when he made and exception for Castiel. Neither of them knew what to call this – Dean didn't know what love felt like, and Castiel knew this felt a lot more complex than love. He had felt love before. But this felt different.
The only sound was their breathing, which both were trying to control, and the faint buzzing of the TV. Castiel focused on Dean's breathing pattern, eventually counting the seconds between each exhale and inhale. After a while, he realized the angel had fallen asleep. Castiel smiled again and closed his eyes, Dean's grip tightening on his hand. For once, Castiel wasn't anxious for Sam to immediately return.
