A/N: Whew, made it. Almost forgot to update.
Chapter 8: Even the best of friends get into fights
In another worn out, falling apart motel room Sam finds himself in, is built way back in the 80s and is beyond its prime. The theme is a hideous, blood red splashed against what is a poor excuse of peach leaning into pink. Faded strawberries and country designs tells of a warm Southern charm.
Flipping on the bathroom light, Sam grimaces at the chubby, flaking bears holding up dishes and green vines acting as towel hooks. The whole room screams chick, but it was the only motel in sight and the last one before a long 50 mile stretch in the Deep South. Sucking up their pain, the Winchesters decided to spend the thirty bucks and walk into the room with blinders on. It was only for one night, thank god.
Sam hears the riff of Dean's phone, a quick glance at his watch telling him its one thirty in the morning. Dean's voice is a low sharp growl. The words, "Sadly it ain't German," trickles through the frame. A soft 'K,' then the conversation is cut off. The phone clatters onto the table.
Zipping open the toiletry bag near, Sam raises an eyebrow in confusion as he pulls out a small lotion bottle. Unscrewing it, he takes a whiff of oranges and ponders why Dean even picked up this strange little thing. Sam leans out, screwing the top back on, wanting to call first dibbs on taking a shower. It'd be nice to have all the hot water for a change. But Dean's grumbling away, ruffling through his things as usually. Except, there's something new is added into the mix. Like Dean grabbing a few books on the supernatural and Revelations they borrowed from Bobby or collected over the years.
Strange, his brother hated research with a passion. But maybe, Cas finally got his brother to suck it up and crack open a book now and then.
Louisa has seen many things enter through her double doors at her Bavarian style motel. The loud, thumping German band plays quietly in the background, as blue and red wallpaper runs underneath the fake carved designs of ski lodges. She's been at this job for over twenty five years and nothing has topped what is before her very eyes.
Two men stand in front of her. The one closet to her has a brown leather jacket, light brown hair sticking out in clumps, with green eyes locked onto her in a silent fuming mood. His companion stands slightly off to the side, the long beige trench coat cracking at every move he makes, blue eyes taking in her authentic carved wooden plates of each Bavarian state hanging over her head. Despite their differences, they're both caked in dry dirt with grass and twigs and what seems like sawdust sticking to their hair and clothes. Dark dirt streaks are smeared across their cheeks. And that isn't the worst because when the fan passes over them, she bits back a gasp. They smell like manure.
The green-eyed man sniffs loudly. "One room please." He grinds out between clenched teeth.
Louisa coughs lightly in her hand. "Something-"
"Nothing, just thought we'd check the barn out back," answers the man.
"Why?"
The blue eyed man steps forward, shoulder to shoulder with his partner. "We killed a were-"
The other man slaps him loud and hard on the chest, sending a cloud of dust, dried dirt and a fresh whiff of manure into the lobby. All the while cracking a smile at Louisa, he hands her the credit card. "Don't mind him; he's got a bit of a crazy imagination. Now that room, sweetheart, cause I would love to clean up."
Smiling shakily, Louisa pulls out the necessary paper work and gathers the key to room 25. "One king size bed good enough?"
The slightly taller man's green eyes grow wide, mouth falling open. His friend gives her a curt nod. "That would be nice, thank you."
"Alrighty then." As she reaches for the card, the shocked man slaps his hand over hers.
"No no, two doubles will be fine...or one single..." a blush deepens his already tanned cheeks. "No I meant two doubles, see we're not, I'm not."
"Dean."
The said man turns to fix his shocked eyes to the left, "Cas?"
Cas's blue eyes seem to darken slightly and for a split second, Louisa swears she feels electricity crackling between the two. It's intense.
Sighing loudly, Dean's shoulders sag as he breaks off the contact. Sliding his hand away, he mutters, "King's fine."
"Very well then," Louisa finishes the paper and hands the pair the key. "Enjoy your visit."
"Yeah, yeah," mumbles Dean as he swipes the key, grudgingly dragging his feet out the door towards the room.
Slamming open the door, Dean marches inside throwing his duffle bag onto the large bed, "I can't believe I agreed to this!"
Cas trails quietly behind him, gently shutting the door. "You'll be the only one sleeping here tonight, Dean. I do not see the problem."
Dean shots a heated glance over his shoulder, "She thinks we're a couple!" Throwing his bag on the bed, he stomps over and pokes Cas in the chest. As much as he would love to punch the guy, his hand still aches.
"I just thought you would enjoy a restful night sleep," states Cas, his voice ever calm while his face scrunches, trying to figure out why this was still a bad idea. "Does it really matter what Louisa thinks?"
Rolling his eyes, Dean kicks off his shoes and walks over to the bathroom, flicking the lights on. It's actually slightly larger than usual with nice towels and some pretty good orange smelling shampoo and soap.
Turning around, he sees Cas's shoulders straighten out and without a thought he lunges forward. Yanking the angel towards him, Dean glowers at him. "Oh hell no."
"Dean?" Cas's face is close to his, his face scrunching up in total bafflement. "What-"
"Like hell are you just flying off. You owe me and you can start by taking a shower. I don't trust your mojo enough to risk exposing my car again." Dean's fist tightens in the coat, his green eyes locking in a stare down.
This hunt was supposed to have been nice and simple and he thought that Cas might get a kick out it. But no, the werewolf had known they were after him and they had to give chase into the fields and backwoods through mud and upturn roots before corning the guy in the barn a few miles away from the motel. Let's just say is sucked, leaving Dean on edge from the lack of sleep and hunger.
Cas slumps his shoulders, a small frown forming on his face. He doesn't know if it should bother him at all if Dean knew he was about to take off or the feeling beginning to build deep in his stomach. "I offered to fly us here but you were very vocal in driving. And there is nothing wrong with my," pause, "mojo."
Yet they both know that's a bold faced lie. Each knows Cas didn't become clean within a blink of an eye because he was already coasting on fumes when he arrived. But neither speaks, instead hiding behind the clueless expression and snarky attitude.
"Dude, you have worn the same clothes for over a year! You've been shot, stabbed, blown up and rolling in manure. You're taking a shower and that's that." Dean begins to pull him towards the bathroom, Cas letting himself be dragged over the fact that it would cause more harm if he fought.
"I still don't see the need," rebukes Cas, his tone tightening. Immediately upon entering, his blue eyes fall onto the shower head, discomfort ruffling his frame.
Dean shakes his head, grabbing Cas by the wrist while using his other hand to turn on the shower. He really wants to take a hot shower, but he also really wants to wash his mud-caked baby. Hopefully with the windows cracked open, the smell will disappear by the morning.
He feels Cas fight against his grip, tightening it even more. Twisting around, Dean fights back exhaustion with a snappy tone. "Don't be such a baby, Cas."
"Dean." The angel draws out the name. All the while his blue eyes are fixed on the pounding hot water. For a moment, Dean can't help but think that angels are like cats, hating the water with all their might.
"You can't be serious, don't tell me you're afraid of water."
An offended look flashes over Cas's face and for a brief moment, Dean feels that he might have pushed it too far. "I'm not afraid of water."
"Good, cause you're going in." Dean locks his arm in such a way that if Cas would try to break free, he would injure him. And if Dean knows one thing, Cas doesn't want to hurt him.
"No, Dean."
"Come on man, we were in a middle of storm when we were talking to Raphael. You can handle a little stream of water!"
"Yes but in a storm, at least I have room. I do not understand why you humans like to confine yourselves in such small areas and drown under hot water."
"Cause it's relaxing, now suck it up!" Reaching out with his free hand, he yanks Cas closer to the stall. "Don't make me push you!"
Cas tries to pull away gently, jerking each way to break free without harming Dean. He would fly away, but that means dragging Dean with him. And the last thing he wants to hear is the hunter complaining about his bowel movements. "Dean, I'm warning you-" The said man twists his body suddenly, catching the angel off guard. In that split second, the hunter throws Cas into the shower stall.
The scalding blast of hot water pours down earning a yelp from the angel as his shoes skid on the wet tiles. Instincts kicking in, Castiel lashes out, grabbing a hold of Dean's coat as his shoes lose traction.
"Shit!" Dean curses loudly, falling with a hard thump at the other end of the tub as Cas collapses underneath the shower head. Rubbing his sore behind, he snaps, "My bum! Cas, I swear to God-" But his rant halts as his annoyance dissipates into a bubbling burst of laughter. In front of him, under the ruthless pounding of the water, Cas is sitting utterly drenched, black hair plastered his face, blue eyes blinking constantly to fight off the water.
Fighting to breathe, Dean grins widely at the scrunched up face of a displeased Cas. "You look like a drowned cat."
Cocking his head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits, Castiel raises two fingers and Dean's laughter ends abruptly. Fear shines in behind the green eyes. "Now, Cas, come on man, you gotta learn to-"
A swift flick of his wrist and the shower head tilts upwards firing water straight into Dean's face. "Gah, Cas!" spluttering out mouth full of water, arms swiping away the water from the onslaught, Dean tries to find cover. "Okay, okay I get your point!"
Then the water is gone leaving behind a bellowing steam cloud. Wiping the water from his own drenched face, Dean spits out another mouthful, glaring at the angel across from him. "Idiot, it's just a shower!"
"I told you, I was fine," snaps back Cas, the unpleasant experience letting his tiredness rear its ugly head for the first time. The hunt for his lost father has not been going well and his growing disappointment is becoming hard to handle. Not to mention his feathers are utterly drenched.
"You smelled like manure! That ain't fine!" Dean snaps back, his own exhaustion roaring loudly in his head.
"If you had not moved like I told you too, the boards would not have broken and we would not have fallen into the pile."
"Well sorry, if I was busy trying to kill a werewolf, unlike someone I know."
"You're the one who asked me to join you on this hunt."
"That's because you're looking all pathetic in searching for a guy who doesn't want to be found!" Just as the words flew out of his mouth, Dean's eyes grow wide with shock. Crap, he just didn't bring up the Daddy issue. "Cas, I-"
Blue eyes harden and the air seems to drop a few degrees. "I believe I'm clean now."
Swallowing, Dean leans forward wanting to reach out, "I didn't-" In a loud snap of wings, Cas is gone leaving behind a brief shower of muddy water raining down on the hunter. Lowering his hand, Dean hangs his head, self-loathing tightening his shoulders. "Idiot."
It isn't till the next day as Dean lies in the massive king bed staring at the snow peppered ceiling, that maybe, just maybe he should call the angel and apologize. In a way, last night had been their first fight as friends. Sure they had argued about moral dilemmas, right and wrongs, but that came with the turf in dealings between humans and angels. But last night's argument was something he might have had with Sam, when both were too tired and high-strung after a hunt gone wrong. It was a basic friendship dilemma and instead of shutting up, he had pushed the other into something he didn't want to do.
Because in the end, Cas had been looking out for Dean, even if he didn't want it. The king size bed, despite the embarrassing situation, was a dream to sleep in. He finally could stretch out and sleep comfortably without having his legs or arms dangling over the sides, exposed to the night air. For the first time in a long while, he had woken up refreshed. And it was all because Cas said yes to the bed.
Groaning, Dean pushes off the bed and slides into his morning routine, gathering his belongings and checking out all the while trying to figure out how to apologize. It isn't till he's falls into the driver's seat, too lost in his thoughts, that Dean notices the Impala is clean. The mud is gone, leaving behind a glistening black metallic body. Inside, the leather is spotless and the smell of manure is gone replaced by the smell of pine.
Smiling gently, Dean reaches out and plucks the tiny green air-freshener tree from his rear view mirror. "At least you clean up after yourself."
As if hearing his name, Dean's phone rings. With a quick glance, he flips open the phone, hanging the tree back in its' place.
"Dean." Cas's gruff voice is void over the line, but somehow Dean can feel the hidden sorry behind his name.
"Hey, I forgot to loan you that book last night. How about you join me for breakfast and I'll give it to you then." Dean's own quiet aplogy laces in the chipper mood. "No, not this instant. Because I'm starving, that's why." Turning on his car, he peels out of the parking lot, rolling his eyes once while chatting away with a smirk on his face. "There's that diner a few miles down and I thought maybe, I know you don't eat. Who cares, look man, you ate that one time. Yeah well, I know I said the whole last night on earth routine, but dude it's freaking breakfast! And I hear they make the best bear claws ever. No not real bear claws, that's disgusting. Ok, I did not need to know that Cas."
It's second nature to Dean, motions he conducts without even thinking. Finished sorting out his things, he grabs the books with one hand as the other tilts the chair against the window. Just in case Cas appears here instead of at the laundry room, the angel knows that he is welcome to rest his weary feet and wings here.
Next, he grabs the detergent. He knows Cas won't change his clothes, but the angel had confessed that he felt a bit more rejuvenated after the shower incident. So somehow, Dean manages to convince the guy to give him the coat and suit jacket and tosses it in with the rest of the laundry. It was a baby step, but a step nonetheless towards the guy actually taking a shower.
Who knew the angel had the Winchester patented stubbornness streak?
"Having a little book club meeting?" Sam's voice pulls Dean's head upwards to take the sprawled form of his younger brother trying to fit comfortably on the all too small queen bed. For a split second, he wants to rub it in that he got to sleep in a king size bed but bites his tongue. "No, just getting ready to do laundry."
Sam's eyes widen, "Laundry, are you serious? It's like two in the morning."
Dean shrugs, grabbing his laundry bag. He wasn't planning on it, but then Cas called about needing to research something and well, there ya go. "Yeah, you got any?"
"Left side of my bag," watching Dean scurry over to grab his dirty clothes, Sam blinks in total confusion. All he wanted to do was sleep, but it seems Dean's a bit wired. "Dean, it's fine if Cas hangs out here, just be quiet you two."
Dean shoots straight up, ears turning red. Chest huffed out; Dean smacks the bag of heavy load of laundry and books at Sam's feet. "Dude, that is so wrong!" Sam barks back a laugh as he watches Dean fluster about, grabbing the keys last before trampling out of the room.
Grinning widely, he reaches out to turn off the light. As the darkness envelopes the room, curled on his side, Sam can't seem find the elusive sleep. Next to him, the empty bed screams of lost dreams and broken relationships. Shaking his head, Sam flops onto his back and stares up at the ceiling all alone in a room. Meanwhile his brother is hanging out in the laundry room with an angel, washing clothes and doing research. It's something Jess and he did all the time back in the dorms. It was their little thing. And it's something he realizes, he wants to be a part of again. It's something...
A/N: Weekend yay ;) Take care y'all.
