It came as no surprise to anyone but Sam when, two weeks after he and Jess had arrived (and she had eventually been convinced to spend at least a little time with her family; Dean had tried to persuade Sam to go with her and relax, but his brother would have none of it) he learned that he had passed his bar exam with flying colours.
Right after he had survived the tackle hug that followed Sam's delighted scream, Dean said nothing but "I told you so", prompting Sam to give him a bitchface of epic proportions (as he had been told he called it).
Cas, who, while Sam was there, usually returned to his apartment to sleep, but spent almost every waking minute with Dean (much to his pleasure, but he was in the process of conquering his crush, so it was just the disinterested happiness of friendship) joined in the congratulations.
Soon enough, they had arranged a celebration at Bobby's place that was to take place in two days so that Jess could come. Dean didn't even bother to ask Bobby if Jody would be there. As far as she could tell, she spent more time at his place than her own by now.
Speaking of which –
No. Just disinterested friendship. As it should be.
They would, of course, have to ask Dad. Although, thinking about it, Dean wasn't so sure about the "of course". Everyone he'd asked had confirmed that Dad hadn't been around much, and Sam had admitted that he'd even thrown him out for getting admitted to college on a full ride.
He didn't really deserve to be told of his son's success and celebrate with their friends.
He was certain he would have felt differently if he had all his memories; as far as he could tell, he had been infuriatingly understanding of Dad before; but some resentment must and did arise from the simple fact that, were it not for his insistence that the garage remain unchanged, he would not be an amnesiac.
He left the decision to his younger brother, simply asked him if he was going to invite Dad, and Sam, after a short hesitation, implied in the affirmative. It was certainly the right thing to do, even if it didn't feel like it.
"I've barely seen him," Dean admitted to Cas later that day. "He's only come to the shop once".
The Monday he reopened – and found to his delight that a few regulars had waited with small problems just so he could work on their cars, and that the walk-in business was by no means as bad as he had supposed – Dad dropped by.
He hadn't been drinking, at least Dean didn't think so, but he was morose and quiet, and stared at the empty space on the wall where the drawer had stood as if it had personally offended him.
"How you doing, son?"
It sounded different than when Bobby asked a similar question. With Bobby, Dean could always feel concern, worry, affection; in Dad's voice there was nothing but curiosity and a hint of what had perhaps once been parental feeling before a fire and years drowned in alcohol had swept it away.
"I'm fine," he simply replied. "Working".
"I can see that". His eyes shifted to the empty spot on the wall again, and this time he didn't hold back.
"Where's the drawer?"
"In the trash".
"It was a good drawer," he said defensively.
"Apart from it trying to kill me, I agree," Dean said coldly. His father scarcely opened his mouth again, spent a few minutes walking about, and left.
He didn't mention the visit to anyone. Sam would only be angry, Cas concerned, and Bobby pissed.
Cas nodded understandingly.
They were equally certain that Bobby kept an eye on John, but they never mentioned it to the older man.
It didn't matter in the long run; Dad would come and have dinner with them and Sam and Jess and Jody in Bobby's house.
He behaved himself for the first hour. Bobby and Jody had cooked a great meal, Sam and Jess were grinning constantly, and Cas was at his side as he should be (as a friend). They were just discussing a new novel that was coming out next week when Dad asked loudly, "Dean, would you hand me the potato salad?"
Dean judged that the plate was at equal distance between them both, but obliged. Dad took it, but apparently had no intention of serving himself. Instead, he eyed Dean and Cas and asked, "What have you been doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you have to have done more than just work".
Only Dad would manage to make this sound disapproving, but it couldn't make Dean feel bad now.
"The usual. Reading, watching TV, hanging out with Sam and Cas".
"I see".
If anything, he sounded even less thrilled, and Dean really didn't need that right now, so after he gave Cas a look to tell him he was alright, he said, "I need some air", and walked out the door.
Jess and Jody had gone out five minutes ago to have some time to themselves and get to know each other better (and since Jody and their real father figure were finally dating, Dean thought it was a good idea) but he didn't feel like joining them and instead stole away into the shadows to circle the salvage yard.
Dad was behaving strangely. Not that Dean had much experience with him, but he'd never looked so openly hostile at Cas before. Not that they had liked each other – anyone who had eyes could see that that wasn't true – but they'd at least ignored each other's existence.
Why would he suddenly stare at Cas and him like that?
Dean's stomach sank. Had Dad realized? Did he know what he felt for Cas? Because, despite all his attempts to talk himself out of it, his crush was as strong as ever. And Dad didn't seem the most tolerant man. Bobby would have no problem with it, Dean was sure –
But no problem with what? He was thinking as if he and Cas were in a relationship. That would never do.
But still – the way Dad had looked at them – he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.
Voices near him made him realize that he was close to the front door again, a row of cars all that separated him from Jody and Jess. Unconsciously, he stood still to listen.
"What are your plans?" Jody asked.
"Lawrence Memorial is an excellent hospital. I'll apply there".
"And this is because..." Jody began cautiously and Jess interrupted her.
"It's because Sam always wanted to move close to his brother again. Dean is doing fine, and of course his condition is an even better reason to return, but despite what he might have feared, Sam was never going to leave him. And I – well, we're young and there's no reason to think very far ahead yet. We're certainly not going to settle down and have children any time soon. Right now, we're together and we're happy, so I'll complete my education here".
"I'm glad you agree," Jody said. "It's always good to have the same goals..."
"Like you and Bobby?" Jess teased her. Jody muttered something that was too low for him to hear, but Jess laughed before growing serious.
"Speaking of goals and couples..."
"I assume you mean – "
"Of course. Did you see how John stared at them all through dinner?" she asked, obviously displeased.
Jody sighed. "John, unfortunately, has always been rather judgemental".
"And there isn't even anything to be judgemental about!" Jess exclaimed before calming down. "Sorry. It's been frustrating to both Sam and me, how they've been dancing around each other. They're both good men, they both deserve it, and Cas has been in love with Dean for years."
Dean's heart beat faster.
Cas has been in love with Dean for years.
Jess didn't know them that well, or long enough to be sure, but she must have talked to Sam. Otherwise she wouldn't tell Jody her suspicions so casually.
Sam thought Cas was in love with Dean.
Sam, who'd grown up with him and known Cas since he was eleven.
Sam, who'd watched their friendship bloom and progress.
Sam thought Cas was in love with Dean.
Cas was in love with Dean.
Dean hadn't been fooling himself. He hadn't seen signs that weren't given, hadn't interpreted situations in the light he wished.
He had seen the truth. Cas reciprocated his feelings.
Were Dean's feelings new, though? It would seem that way since neither of them had ever made a move before and they had stayed friends for over a decade without ever crossing the boundary to something more; but –
He remembered his dream. He couldn't say whether what he had felt towards Cas there had been a genuine memory or not, but it had felt that way. He distinctly recalled dismissing the warmth in his chest as friendship and gratitude, but it was the same he felt when he looked at Cas now.
He'd always been in love with Cas, whether he realized it or not.
And Cas was in love with him.
He heard Jess and Jody returning to the house; he barely paid them any heed; he had to spend a few minutes calming himself down. He couldn't just storm in and kiss Cas. Could he? He'd really like to, but maybe Cas wouldn't appreciate it. They should talk first. Yes, they should definitely talk first.
Dean's good mood evaporated somewhat when a glimpse at the table was enough to prove that his father's hadn't improved in the slightest. He was glaring at Cas, who was talking to Bobby.
Dean slid into his chair, pressing a little closer to Cas than strictly necessary, the knowledge that he was in love with him making him bold.
He heard Cas' breath hitch and suppressed a grin.
"How's the garage going?" Dad began with his interrogation tone, and Dean sighed as he replied, "I'm working. It's fine. Going to start renovations soon".
"Don't see why they're necessary," John grumbled, but a dirty look from Bobby, who'd checked what was going on with Dean and his father even as he was talking to Cas, shut him up. He sighed and reached for his beer, only to find it empty; and Dean wondered how much more he'd had since he'd left.
He traded a worried look with his brother, but Sam just shrugged. He'd drunk too quickly to keep up with, then.
Jess cleared her throat and reached for her water, signalling four with her fingers.
Dad had drunk four beers in less than two hours.
If he drank like this the whole day...
Dean averted his eyes, focused on his own drink and concentrated on Cas' body next to his.
Cas has been in love with Dean for years.
The memory of Jess' words was enough to make him turn and smile, and Cas, who'd been studying him, obviously worried about his reaction to his father, smiled likewise.
Dean wanted to reach out and take his hand. He was going to – he'd already let go of his glass – when Cas suddenly dropped his gaze and turned away to talk very determinedly to Jody.
"Cas?" Dean asked, confused, but Cas didn't seem to hear him.
Had he done something wrong? He'd only wanted to get closer. To make his intention known. Maybe Cas had thought he was just staring? No, there'd been too much affection in his eyes, and they'd gazed at each other too long.
And it was hardly the first time Dean had stared at him in a non-platonic way or had moved to touch him unexpectedly. Cas must know.
Didn't he want it, then? Dean's heart clenched. Sam and Jess could be wrong. He and Cas certainly shared a very close friendship. It could easily be mistaken for something different.
Perhaps Cas hadn't been the one to hide his feelings for all these years. Maybe it had been Dean, always hoping, always wishing, but knowing he could never have what he desired...
He swallowed and looked up just in time to see Jess' worried glance. That didn't help, really, but thankfully, his father decided that it was time for a refill and went to the kitchen.
Where Bobby was currently putting away leftovers.
"You've had enough, I'd say".
It was calmly said, but it happened to fall in one of the pauses in conversation that take place during every party, no matter how noisome, and all of them turned their heads and listened.
"No I haven't".
"You've had quite enough to make your children uncomfortable," Bobby argued.
"Exactly. My children. Not yours. So stop telling me what to do around them!"
Dean knew his father had said the wrong thing before Bobby answered. His voice had definitely taken on a threatening tone; Dean was surprised that he wasn't throwing punches yet.
"If you knew how, I wouldn't have to remind you – "
Jody decided to interfere and jumped up, racing into the kitchen.
"That's enough, gentlemen, put your rulers away. John, I think it would be best if you'd just leave".
Neither Dean nor Sam had left the table, Jess and Cas staying with them in silent support. And now Cas grabbed his hand, on his own accord, holding it gently like something infinitely precious, grounding him.
He wished he wasn't glad for the amnesia, but in this moment, he was.
He didn't want to remember nights like this, when Dad was getting drunk and angry, and they were young. They were young, and Dean didn't know what to do, and Sam was crying, and Dad drank until he passed out, leaving them hungry –
How well he could imagine it. He didn't want to experience it. Again.
Cas' thumb was massaging circles into the back of his hand.
Dad breezed out of the kitchen without looking at them.
Jody came out next, looking determined.
"So. Who wants pie?"
Somehow, the evening ended on a happy note anyway. If anything, it was as if a ban had been lifted when Dad left the house; and Sam was too euphoric to dwell on their father's behaviour.
Dean's happiness came from Cas not letting go of his hand for several minutes before recollecting himself and drawing back, blushing.
That was not the reaction of a friend. Therefore, Dean saw it right to act.
He spent the next few hours pressed against Cas' side, occasionally sinking his voice to a whisper when he wanted to speak only to him (as he did when he told him about Sam's and Jess' plans to stay in Kansas), gentle touches underlining his intentions; when he refilled Cas' glass and found it necessary to brush his arm; when he stood up and a finger trailed over his shoulders; when he casually swept a hair back that had hung in front of Cas' eyes.
Cas blushed and stammered, but he never drew back, and the light in his eyes told Dean everything he needed to know.
Things were finally starting to make sense.
It was madness to allow this. It was madness to allow Dean to fancy himself in love with him, to let him touch him like that, to let him flirt and smile and whisper to him as if Cas was entitled to any of it.
And yet he did. He sat there and enjoyed Dean's attentions; how often had he been at a bar, watching Dean from the shadows talking to a girl he had just sauntered over to, acting exactly the same, wishing fervently that it was him Dean was focused on...
Bobby and Jody and Sam and Jess apparently thought it perfectly natural that Dean should act this way. That they should be together. But it wasn't, because Dean in his right mind would never want it. He would be disgusted. He wouldn't want to be Cas' friend anymore.
So why didn't Cas say anything? Protest, explain?
Because he was weak, and because this, this mockery of what he truly wanted, would be all he would ever have. No gentle kisses would ever be traded on lazy mornings; movie marathons would never be accompanied by cuddling on the sofa until they fell asleep; there would be no happily ever after.
Cas had never really resigned himself to it, he admitted. He'd always hoped, and this, what was happening right now, felt too good, too right, wrong as it was, to stop.
So it was that he didn't say a thing when both Jess and Sam declared themselves too tired to drive home with them, or when Bobby and Jody smiled and all but pushed them out of the house.
Cas had only had two beers in the course of the evening, so that he was the driver; and it turned out to be a good thing, because Dean, exhausted from a day that had brought happiness and vexation, fell asleep in the car.
It was just as well. It would save them an awkward conversation tonight at least.
He woke Dean up just enough to manage to walk up to his apartment, then brought him to bed. Dean, with his sleep-addled mind, his eyes half-open, smiled as Cas pulled the blanket over him, then reached out, brought his head down, and kissed him.
He whispered gently, "Goodnight, Cas", closed his eyes, and was out like a light.
Cas stood there, frozen on the spot. Dean hadn't drunk much tonight; just enough to make him unsure whether or not he should drive. And his exhaustion alone wouldn't explain –
The kiss changed nothing, he told himself, forcing his legs to move and leave the room. Dean was barely awake, and it was a part of his delusion, of the trick his mind was playing on him. He was misinterpreting the closeness that had always existed between them, and sadly Cas had never concealed his feelings as well as he thought, so that Dean believed himself in the right to act on his own imagined and Cas' real emotions.
Tomorrow he'd have to explain. He should have gone home, but they had taken the Impala to Bobby's and, despite Dean feeling well, he was still reluctant to leave him alone. So, against his better judgement, not wishing to trifle with Sam's and Jess' things, he curled up on the sofa and hoped for a few hours of rest.
They were woken at six am by someone hammering at the door. Cas moved before his mind had caught up with his body and found himself leaning, still half-asleep, against the door, trying to remember how to open it and whether or not shouting through it shortly after sunrise was socially acceptable behaviour or not.
Dean stumbled out of his bedroom, blinking sleepily. It took them a few seconds to realize who was behind the door and what they were yelling, and Cas wished he'd had the presence of mind to act while he still had time.
"Dean, open the door!"
John sounded drunk, more drunk than Cas had ever seen him – and he'd seen him at his worst, as he had then believed, when he'd one day fallen into the kitchen while he and Dean had been studying. He had never forgotten the look on his best friend's face as he had helped him carry the dead weight of his father.
Dean looked confused, if a bit annoyed.
At the same time, Cas felt anger wash through him, born from years of watching Dean unhappy and dissatisfied with his life.
Dean was angry because his father hadn't been there for him over the years, had attacked his feelings of self-worth until they were all but non-existent, had refused to let him live as he wanted. But he knew these things because someone had told him. Cas had seen them happen, had seen Dean allow every chance to change his life pass him by, and just because his father had decided that his son had to do exactly what he said, act as he wished.
He was tempted to throw the door open and give him a piece of his mind, but he had to know it was alright with Dean first.
He looked at him, and he nodded.
Cas opened the door, but in his rightful indignation he had simply not considered that Dean's father was drunk and wouldn't act like a sensible person.
He found himself being shoved aside and John storming up to Dean.
He slammed into the wall as Dean called out his name and wanted to run to him, but his father blocked his way.
Cas didn't seem to be injured, but he did look confused and somewhat angry. Not that Dean could blame him. He was feeling rather pissed as well.
"Enough of you ignoring me," his father growled, but at least he wasn't shouting anymore. Dean really didn't want to explain to the police that the drunk man who was disturbing the peace was related to him.
"I don't ignore you," he began, shooting Cas a look to calm him down. He might have been angry, but Cas, now that his confusion had passed, looked downright furious. The last thing he wanted was to have to break up a fight between his best friend and his father in his apartment.
"No? What about the shop, then?"
"What about it? I've been fixing cars. Making plans".
"Plans to screw it all up!"
Before Dean could reply, his father continued. Instead of becoming louder again, as Dean had feared he would, his voice grew more and more quiet, giving his words more weight. Still his state made it difficult to understand him; some words were slurred almost beyond comprehension.
"Like you always do".
"Now wait a moment – "
"You've never done anything right. You can't keep the shop afloat, and you're stupid. Too stupid to follow orders. You're not like Sam. Sam's clever. He'll make something out of his life – "
"The way I've heard it – "
"And you are just sitting here, screwing it all up – "
"I fail to see how – "
Cas was amazed that Dean stayed so calm. The Dean he knew would have lashed out, screamed, while believing his father, well and truly certain that he was worthless.
Yet here he was, listening with an expression of barely concealed anger and disbelief that his father would sink so low.
"The shop is working just fine – "
"A drawer fell on me. I almost got killed".
"You're fine. I ain't buying this amnesia thing, either. You just wanted to have some time off –"
"If you disagree, I'm sure my doctors will be glad to explain it to you," Dean said. He should probably have been angry, but he was simply disappointed. Disappointed that the unfavourable opinion he had formed about his father had not even been close to the real thing. John Winchester was entirely self-absorbed and had left his children to fend for themselves; looking at the evidence, Dean couldn't help feeling that he was blessed to have had such friends as Bobby and Cas to look after them.
"Even if it's true, doesn't explain you getting all cozy with your little fag".
It didn't take more than that for Dean to experience all the anger he had thought himself above a second before.
"What did you just say?"
"Come on, he's been around forever, always staring at you, hanging on your every word. Of course the fag's in love with you".
Cas flinched, and his panicked expression set Dean on edge.
"What did you just call him?" he pressed out.
"What he is. You're not. You're a ladies' man. They're always swooning at your feet. That's my boy, not the fairy who was cuddling that all evening".
"I think you should go".
"Throw me out? I'm your father, boy".
"No you are not," Dean said loudly, his voice vibrating with anger. He took a step forward; his father, perhaps surprised by his reaction, stepped back.
"You never looked after us. I had to raise Sam. I had to raise myself. I don't want to think how we would've ended up without Bobby and Jody and the others. It's my shop; I can do what I damn well please with it. And I'm going to make renovations. If you don't like it, don't go there. And one last thing – who I spend my time with, who I love – it's none of your business".
He looked at Cas, and there was no mistaking his expression, it was impossible to deny what Dean believed.
He thought he was in love with Cas.
Cas had wished and dreamed and hoped to see that expression on his face for years. And when he finally did, it wasn't real and he had to turn away.
"If you think so – "
"Get out of my apartment," Dean said.
John rounded on Cas, who was still reeling from the look Dean had bestowed on him.
"If he really thinks he's in love with you, he must be screwed in the head. Go, have your way with him. God knows what he'll think when he's back to normal".
And with that final stab, in the hope that his son would soon return to what he had deemed "normal", John Winchester left, occasionally falling down in the hallway.
Neither of them paid him any attention, leaving him to fend for himself.
Dean, still completely confident, still completely unaware that this was the opposite of what he would want if he only knew himself, turned around and smiled at Cas. It was such a sweet smile; full of hope; and Cas hated himself for wishing to give in. For having what he couldn't have, and if it be for just one day.
"We need to talk".
"Yes," Cas replied tiredly, leaning against the door, resigned to the inevitable. "Yes, we do".