Hello!
Thank you for the reviews! They pop up on my email and make me so unbelievably happy! No warnings for this chapter (unfortunately lol) but A LOT of swearing and general stuff.
Next chapter should be out soon, i tried to space them out but i hate leaving you hanging!
Chapter Ten
As soon as Dean stepped into his apartment, he was assaulted by a short, golden eyed flurry of handshakes and hyperactivity. He had enough sense to send a questioning noise to Cas before being herded into the living room. Cas looked just as surprised as he felt. Clearly he'd not heard them coming up the stairs, which was weird considering his superman hearing. And just who the fuck was the other guy in his house?
"Uh, sorry, but who the hell are you?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows at the increasingly annoying little man jumping up and down in front of him. He was almost entirely focused on Dean; he didn't think the other man had even noticed Sam looming behind them.
"Oh, sorry! I'm Gabriel, Cassie's brother!" He said it pointedly, widening his eyes at Dean. "I'm only in town for one night, and I haven't seen him in ages. So I decided to, pop in. I hope you don't mind." Gabriel smiled brightly, and it had Deans police honed senses humming. He just knew Gabriel was lying. It was right there in his eyes.
Unfortunately, that's when he noticed Sam.
"Well, hellooo, big boy. What's your name?" Gabriel sidled up to Sam, whose eyes had widened immeasurably. Sam seemed to have lost his ability to speak; he was just looking from Gabriel to Dean and back. Gabriel turned his head slightly, in an encouraging action. Sam, luckily, seemed to find his tongue.
"S- Sam. My name's Sam, nice to meet you." Dean watched as Sam stuttered his way through his introduction, and stuck his hand out in greeting. Gabriel eyed it happily, glee emanating from him. He took Sam's hand in his, and Dean could see neither of them expected the reaction or connection, that a simple handshake would cause. Gabriel and Sam stared at each other, as the air around them practically crackled with energy. The lights glowed brighter in their sockets, the windows rattled and shook. Gabriel turned his head sharply, but Dean caught the faint flickering of glowing eyes. It was the same reaction that Cas had that morning. Both of the men in front of him were breathing heavily, as Gabriel looked back at Sam. His eyes were no longer glowing, but all the glee and mischief had fled his face, confusion and shock replacing them. As the tremors subsided, the two men's hands fell to their sides, but they continued to stare at each other, in Deans opinion, in a far to chick flicky way.
"So, do you two ladies want something to drink or do you want a room instead?" Dean asked, successfully forcing the other two's focus away from each other. They immediately scampered to opposite sides of the room, while Dean smiled over at Cas. He was surprised to find Cas already staring at him, his head cocked to the side and his eyes squinted.
Walking into the kitchen to make some coffee, he turned when he realised Sam had followed him. He saw the look of shock on his face, and was slightly worried he'd figure out that Gabriel was more than meets the eye.
"You ok, Sam?" He wasn't going to aggravate him by calling him Sammy; he only did that to piss him off.
"Um, what that hell happened back there, Dean? Did you – was there – were the windows rattling?" Sam looked really worried now, so Dean put on his best easy smile, and tried to ease Sam's thoughts.
"Dude, you guys only shook hands for what, a second? A train went by and the stupid neighbours upstairs overloaded the system again. But you looked pretty into it." He couldn't resist a little goading. "Need I remind you that you have a wife?"
The words came out before his big mouth could stop them, and he regretted them instantly.
"Shit, man, I'm sorry, it just came out and –"But Sam cut him off.
"No, Dean. Trust me. You don't need to remind me. I get reminded every fucking time I go home." Sam looked so angry, angry and sad all at once. Dean decided this needed to be talked about immediately.
"Sam, is everything ok between you and Amelia? You know you can talk to me." Dean gave him a sincere smile, hoping to make Sam see that he wanted to talk and help the other man. Sam sighed, leaning heavily up against the counter top.
"No, everything's fucked. You, and everyone else, were right. We did it too fast. We should never have gotten married man. I know that's an awful thing to say, but we only knew each other a few months. What the fuck was I thinking? There are just so many problems. She wants a cat, I want a dog. I want kids, she doesn't… good god that should have been something we talked about!" Sam wiped a hand over his face, and Dean was shocked to see Sam's eyes had teared up. This was not how he'd seen this going. He was not great at the whole feelings game.
Dean grasped Sam's shoulder firmly, turning slightly so that they faced each other.
"Sam, whatever you need, I'm here, ok? You need a couch to crash on, a shoulder to cry on I'm your man – "
Dean's next words were cut off as two hundred pounds of sobbing Sasquatch fell onto him in an awkward hug. He hadn't expected Sam to take his words so literally. Dean patted Sam's back nervously, he'd never had these kinds of talks or situations before, except recently with Cas, so he was still a novice at this. He just wanted to be there for his best friend. Thinking about Cas caused a warm glow to grow behind his ribs, despite Sam clinging to him. Speaking of, he wondered what those two were doing. The kitchen wasn't exactly huge, and they could probably hear everything that was going on. The last thing he wanted was for them to come and crash their pity party. Knowing angels and their social etiquette skills, it was only a matter of time.
Pulling Sam back, he took in the look of deep sadness and regret lining his friends face. He hated seeing him like this.
"Sam, I gotta go see what the wonder twins are doing. You stay here ok? I'll be right back." Dean gave Sam a reassuring smile, before turning back to the coffee machine to rustle up some fuel for what will probably turn out to be a long night, or morning.
Walking into the living room, Deans eyes narrowed in suspicion at the two angels hunched together, talking in animated whispers. Clearing his throat, he set the cups down in front of them, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as two heads whipped round in fright.
"Hey, thought you two could use a pick me up, considering you've probably been up all night?" The two angels in front of him nodded sheepishly. He thought as much. He's gonna have a full house tonight.
"Is Sam ok? I didn't do anything, did I?" Gabriel asked quietly, which Dean thought strange considering how hyper he was earlier. He thought he even heard deep concern colouring the angel's voice.
"Yeah, he's just going through some stuff right now, personal stuff. He's gonna stay here tonight anyway." Dean told the two worried looking men, thankful they were being somewhat human. The last thing Sam needed right now was finding out something as huge as angels existing.
"Dean?" He turned his head towards the kitchen, before getting up and turning back to address the angels.
"I'm gonna set Sam up in my room, be right back."
"Dean? Could I, um, could I say goodnight to Sam?" Gabriel asked, his voice and face hopeful. Dean frowned, it probably wasn't a good idea, and whatever had happened between them before can't have been good, especially in Sam's fragile state. But he didn't want to piss off the guy, just in case he decided to go all smity on his ass.
"I'll go ask Sam, how's that?"
"Thanks kiddo."
When Dean got back to the kitchen, Sam had cleaned himself up somewhat and was staring into his own cup of coffee. When Dean cleared his throat, the other man looked up and gave him a small smile.
"I'm gonna set you up in my room, no, no question, Sam. You need a good night's sleep; I'll be fine on the floor or something. Um, Gabriel wants to make sure you're ok, and say goodnight before he leaves. Is that ok?" Dean asked, frown still on his face.
"Thanks, Dean. You're a good guy, you know that, right?" Sam knew he hated all that fluffy shit. But he appreciated the thought. "Uh, yeah I'll say goodnight to him." He wiped a hand over his face, fixed his hair, and followed Dean from the kitchen.
Back in the living room, the angels had resumed their heated conversation. Dean would have loved to know what they were talking about, but that could wait until later.
"Um, I'm gonna hit they hay. It was nice to see you again, Castiel, and uh, nice to meet you Gabriel." Sam said quietly from the hallway. He went to turn away, but Gabriel was up and in front of him before anyone saw what had happened.
"I'm sorry that you're feeling down Sammy. I hoped it wasn't anything I did. I've been told I can be slightly, overwhelming, sometimes." Gabriel looked up at Sam, an actual shy grin on his face. Dean didn't know what the hell was happening, but even he could sense something was going on. He sneaked a look at Cas, who was watching the other two men in fascination. Dean was certain he was the only one not clued up.
"Nah, man, it's ok. It wasn't you at all. I've just got some… stuff going on. I uh, I don't really wana talk about it. But thanks, I guess." Sam ran one hand through his hair, while Gabriel stared at him with a look of undisguised rapture on his face. How Sam wasn't seeing the look was beyond him. He was obviously too busy thinking about his failing marriage.
"Well, I've talked all I can to Cassie about his problem, so if you ever wana talk to me about yours Sammy, let me know, I'm a good listener." Gabriel smirked up at Sam, who actually fucking blushed, and nodded his head.
What the fuck does he mean, 'his problem?'
"Thanks man, I might take you up on that. Anyway, goodnight guys." Sam went to turn away, but Gabriel clearly had other ideas.
"Oh, one more thing." Gabriel grabbed Sam with more strength than Dean would expect from such a small guy, but he thought the same of Cas too. Gabriel angled Sam's head down towards his own; a puppet in the smaller man's hands. Sam seemed to be in some kind of trance, letting Gabriel guide him in whatever action he chose. Sam's eyes closed as Gabriel bought their lips together in a chaste kiss, lingering slightly when Sam brought his large hands up to rest on Gabriel's hips. Gabriel released a small sigh before breaking them apart, kissing Sam quickly on the cheek before practically running out the door.
Sam stood in the hallway, blinking profusely. He turned back to the two remaining men in the room, with a blank look on his face. He licked his lips, before touching them with shaking fingers.
Sam cleared his throat, "I'm going to bed now." and left Dean staring after him in shock.
What the fuck just happened.
Dean turned to Cas, hoping for an explanation, but instead found the angel staring after Sam, deep in thought. He desperately wanted to know what the two angels had been talking about, but he also wanted to know what the fuck had gone on between Gabriel and Sam. It looked like the kinda thing that had happened between him and Cas, with the glowing eyes and shaking shit. He wondered if that was just how angels greeted each other, even though it looked like they had no control over it. Dean sighed, hoping Cas snapped out of it soon.
"Um, Cas? What were you and Gabriel talking about? If you don't mind me asking…" Dean trailed off, suddenly realising maybe Cas won't want to tell him. Maybe it's some crazy, secret angel business.
Castiel hesitated for a moment before answering. "We were discussing relationships, Dean. I have not had much, if any, experience with them, so I was asking Gabriel for his help. He is somewhat versed in them, being older and having walked the earth more than any other angel." Cas was looking at him with those big fucking blue eyes, all innocence and curiosity. What the hell was he doing asking Gabriel for relationship advice? Who the hell did he want a relationship with?
"Uh, any reason why you were talking to Gabe about relationships and stuff, Cas?" Dean had a tiny flutter of hope darting around inside his chest. Cas couldn't possibly be talking about Dean, could he? Nah, he wasn't that lucky. Getting to be friends with him was better than Dean could hope for. Anything more than that…
"Well, Dean, I, um, I don't really want to talk about it. Is that alright?" Cas was blushing. He was fucking blushing. That could be good, or really, really bad. He didn't want Cas to be into someone else, but if he was that was fine too. He wouldn't begrudge the guy his happiness.
Yeah, like fuck you'd be ok with that.
Ok so maybe he wouldn't exactly be happy for him but whatever he felt for Cas would pass eventually, maybe.
Stop lying to yourself. If Cas has anyone else, you'll lay down and die right then and there. Like the pathetic son of a bitch that you are.
So, no, he wouldn't be ok. This wasn't anything he was used to; he hadn't felt this way with anyone. When he looked at Cas, he felt something hot and fierce burn through his veins and explode in his heart. It scared the absolute fucking shit out of him. It was new, and fragile, and fantastic and terrifying. And the worst thing was, he hadn't even told Cas yet. He didn't even want to think about that just yet, that was a whole can of worms he refused to open until the angel gave him more of a sign than getting a hard on because of a freakin dream about him.
"The, ah, person, isn't ready yet. I am awaiting their conformation before I give mine. It is very confusing but Gabriel is helping me understand. I only hope it does not take too long, the waiting is, how would you say, 'killing me'." Dean would have seen the air quotes, had his whole body not gone cold, as ice slipped down his spine to settle just below his stomach.
He was drowning, falling below the murky depths of misery that were rising up to swallow him.
Cas had someone waiting for him back in heaven.
Fuck he'd been so fucking stupid.
He'd misread the signs, poor innocent Cas wasn't giving him any, he was just going along with what Dean was showing him. Fuck, he knew it was too good to be true. He'd laid himself bare for the angel, opened his very soul for him to see. For the first time in a long time, he'd let himself feel, let himself hope. All he'd gotten in return was a ragged open wound in his soul, from shoulder to groin.
This was not where he'd seen this conversation going. He should have expected it though. He was Dean Winchester after all, king of the let down and crushing loss. His whole life was one giant fucking disappointment. A swirling fist of pain gripped his insides, and he just knew it was written all over his face, by the look on Cas'.
"Dean, are you alright? You are very pale." Dean stood quickly; he needed to get away from Cas. It was hurting too much to even look at him, let alone hear his voice. He felt like he was dying, a little piece of him falling away with each step he took from the angel. The hand print on his arm burned like a fire brand, but he ignored it. He wrenched open the linen cupboard grabbing a blanket and a spare pillow. He couldn't even stay in the same room as the guy. He could vaguely hear Cas asking questions behind him, but he ignored him, instead making his way quickly to the bathroom. It was the only room other than his bedroom with a lock on the door.
As he put his hand on the knob, Dean felt Cas put his hand on his arm. "Dean –"
Dean wrenched his arm away from the angel, confused at all the emotions swirling within him, unable to focus on just one. He grabbed one at random, which just happened to be absolute despair, with just a touch of anger. He rounded on Cas, no, Castiel, and the angel felt the full force of his emotions.
"Don't! Ca - Castiel, just, please, don't. I've been stupid, so fucking stupid. Look, from now on, I'll do my job and you… you do yours. It's my fault, I let this go on and I'm sorry. You didn't know any better. It's all on me." Dean sighed heavily, hoping to everything on this green earth that Castiel couldn't see the fucking tears threatening to fall at any time. He was a man, goddamnit, time to start acting like one. "I'm gonna sleep in here tonight, if you hear anything, don't come in. Ok? No matter what."
Dean tried to ignore the look of confusion and hurt that lanced across the angels face when he called him by his full name. That one look made his heart break into a thousand pieces and cut right through his soul. By now the mark on his arm was burning to such an intensity that it almost felt like his arm was going to fall off. At least that would distract him from the bottomless pit of loneliness that had once again taken up residence where his heart used to be. It was nice, for a time, to think that the angel might have wanted something more with him. But they were just dreams, chased away by the hell hounds of reality. Nobody wanted Dean, not like that. He was broken. Cas had tried to make him see, and for a while he had, he'd dared to feel and for that, he was rewarded with a broken heart and a further damaged soul.
He looked Cas dead in the eye.
"Just leave me alone, Castiel."
He closed the door on the face of a man who looked as though his very soul was being ripped apart by vicious animals, and tossed into the fiery pits of hell.
Something was wrong, very wrong. Dean was closed off, distant and angry. Castiel did not know how he had upset the human, but he knew it was his fault. He stared at the wooden door in front of him, slammed shut and locked a few minutes before. He could still feel the echo of his heart tearing itself to pieces over the look on Deans face as he had said his name, his full name. He could still hear Dean moving around inside the bathroom, but he dared not knock. Dean had told him to leave him alone, something Castiel was loath to do, considering his current mood.
He thought about asking Sam for help, in understanding what was going on behind Dean's mood, or even some way to appease him. But no, Sam had enough on his problems on his mind without Castiel adding to them.
He had seen the light shining from Gabriel's eyes the moment the two men's hands had touched. It was the same as when Castiel had awoken on the couch, Dean grasping his shoulder. Gabriel had found his Soulmate, and was clearly as dumbfounded as Castiel at their luck. Jealously surged with the angel for a moment, at Gabriel's courage to kiss Sam, blatantly in front of all of them, and not be pushed away. If only he could have that moment with Dean… but no. Judging by his mood at the moment, that situation was a long time off, if it would even happen. Castiel felt a surge of sadness, of longing, for the moment that may never come.
He placed his hand on the door, resting his forehead alongside it on the cool wood. Even though his heart was breaking for Dean, at not know why he was so upset, so anguished, and not knowing where to start to fix it, he still had a job to do.
He went to the couch, gathering up the blanket and pillow that had been left there from the night before. Standing before the door to the bathroom, Castiel analysed which would be the best way to sleep. He decided on lying across the threshold, and set about arranging the pillow and blanket to give himself the most comfort. Afterwards, he just lay awake, immensely aware of the sobbing he could hear from within the bathroom. He wanted nothing more than to break the door down, take Dean in his arms and chase all his fears and insecurities away.
Why had Dean said he thought himself an idiot? And stupid?
He thought back to what Dean had asked him, about what he and Gabriel had talked about. All they had discussed was relationships and that was of little import to Dean. He seemed to have reacted badly when Castiel had decided to elaborate after telling Dean he did not want to discuss it, but he felt the human deserved an explanation. He had hoped, very mildly, that Dean would pick up on his hints about it being him –
Oh.
Oh Holy Mary Mother Of God.
Dean did not get any of the hints; he would have immediately thought Castiel was talking about someone else. With all of his self-doubt and low personal worth, Dean must have assumed he could not possibly be the one Castiel was talking about; if he had learned anything about the human in the short time he had known him. How could he have forgotten such an important facet of Dean's personality?
All the angel wished to do at that moment was ignore Deans previous plea to be left alone, to explain to him how it all had been a massive misunderstanding. Yes, Dean's reaction was perplexing, given that Castiel still had no idea how Dean felt about him, but he had to make the other man understand. There was no one waiting for him in heaven. All he had was Dean, and Gabriel. All of his brothers and sisters thought he was strange, with his soul infused grace and penchant for questioning authority. His will was too strong, they said. It was unnatural, they said. Apparently it was why Gabriel liked him so much, he was different.
But he could not break Dean's trust in him. He had apparently done enough damage tonight. He would try tomorrow, if Dean was willing to talk, to hear his explanation.
Castiel tried to make himself more comfortable on the floor, bunching the pillow behind his back and cradling his head on his arms. He heard him before he saw him, the clatter of claws on the wooden floorboards, the gentle snuffling of a wet nose. Riot nudged under his arm slightly, finding an acceptable sleeping spot before curling up beside the angel. Two of the creatures that loved Dean most in the world, spending the night in uncomfortable companionship, to protect what meant most to them.
Castiel awoke in the morning with a stiff neck, a painfully cramped back and a wet tongue licking his face. He brushed the dog away gently, not at all appreciating the early wake up call, until he heard movement from within the bathroom. He was up quicker than he thought possible, straightening his rumpled clothes, and bringing a hand to his messy hair, which he knew was sticking up everywhere. He held his breath as the lock clicked, and the bathroom door opened slowly. Dean looked a mess, to put it lightly. His hair was everywhere, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and his face was pale and drawn. He looked at Castiel with something that looked vaguely like heart-breaking sadness, but it was deeper than that. The man looking at him had had all hope wrenched from him, pounded into a dust and blown away with the stiff wind of devastation. And Castiel had no idea why.
"Dean I – "He cut Castiel off with a hand in front of his face, and a bone weary sigh.
"I do not want to hear it, Castiel. Whatever you've got to say, whatever explanation your gonna try and give, it doesn't matter, ok? Nothing will make me feel better. Just – just leave it, ok?" Dean sighed again, bringing a hand down to clutch just below his ribs. "I'm gonna go wake up Sam. I'll make us some breakfast. Then I'm gonna go for a run. I've got work again tonight, that's gonna continue for a week, and then I'm back on day shifts. This is the last time I talk to you, unless I have to, got it? I just – I just can't do this anymore, ok? When you get your powers back, you can just turn invisible again and I'll just pretend you aren't there. It's – it's easier that way. It'll go back to how it was… before. I can handle that." Dean said the last words quietly, almost as if saying them to himself.
Castiel had stopped breathing.
He could feel his lungs beginning to burn in protest, but he ignored them. What he had done, what he had said, it had broken Dean. The other man was wishing for Castiel to just, disappear, vanish as if he never existed. The words were swirling around inside him, pushing and pulling at his insides until he was just a seething mass of pain and emotion. He did not think the human term 'died of a broken heart' had any actual truth behind it, but he could see now how wrong he was. As Dean brushed past him to go to Sam, Castiel grabbed his arm, one final attempt at trying to break through the stubborn wall of pain that was surrounding him.
Dean looked down at the tight grip Castiel had on his arm, before looking back up into his eyes. The deep, forest green of his eyes was startling, as was the pain and anger which burned within them, before something snapped behind them. Before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean had yanked his arm from Castiel's grasp, pulled his arm back, and slammed his fist into his face. His head hit the door frame, making him see stars as well as the black dots swimming in front of his eyes. He didn't even register the pain, it was nothing compared to what was burning, twisting and dying within his chest.
"Don't you fucking touch me, you got it?" Dean practically screamed; face red with anger and exertion.
Castiel watched in detached horror as Dean pulled on his boots and jacket, wrenched open the door and flew out of the apartment. Sliding down the wall, he wondered, hazily, if Sam had heard the commotion. He felt liquid running down his throat, and onto his chest. Bringing his hand up, he realised slowly that he was bleeding.
Actually, physically, bleeding.
I did not even know if I could.
His thoughts were slow, disjointed, he wondered suddenly, as sudden as he could, if he was, in fact, dying. That would be highly embarrassing, given that he had not completed his mission. There was a questioning noise above him, and then a shocked curse. He looked up to see that, yes, Sam had heard Dean's tirade. Well, at least he might get some help now, given that he was in no state to help himself.
Sam knelt down beside him, bringing a hand to Castiel's forehead, pressing slightly to make him tilt his head backwards.
"Castiel, what the hell happened?" The last part of Sam's question grew quiet as he disappeared into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. He returned with some hand towels which he instructed Castiel to hold beneath his nose, to stem the flow of blood.
"Dean is," Castiel voice sounded thick to his cotton filled ears "Dean is angry at me."
Sam was feeling the bridge of Castiel's nose, probably to ensure it was not broken. This was not ideal, it would take all of Castiel's saved up grace if he wanted to heal, meaning it would be another week before he could fully protect Dean again. The thought of Dean made his heart constrict painfully within his chest, causing him to groan and double over. His grace was warring inside him, unhappy at being so far from its mate. It could feel the intense emotions coming from its partner, and was not happy that it had been the one to cause them.
"Well, yeah, I can see that. Where the hell is he? This is no way to treat a guest. Do you mind me asking what he's angry at you for?" Sam asked, pulling tape out of the box, snipping some and placing a strip across the bridge of his nose. He had no idea what it was for, but he assumed Sam knew what he was doing.
He felt something dripping down his neck now, and brought his hand around the back of his head to investigate. When he touched the gash nestled within his hair, he inhaled shapely at the jolt of pain that flooded through him. He caught Sam's concerned look, and showed him his hand, covered in blood. Sam cursed again.
"Fuck, ok sorry I'm taking you to hospital. You've got a head wound man; you could have concussion or anything. Fucking dick! God damnit. I'm so sorry Castiel. He's got a temper on him, but that's no excuse. Come on." Sam helped him up, he was dimly aware of protesting the hospital visit, but before he knew it, they were outside.
Castiel did not like hospitals.
They smelled of antiseptic, sickness and despair. He was an angel; he did not belong in such a place. But he knew that if he used any of his grace to heal himself, Sam would be highly suspicious and he did not want that. He needed at least one human ally if he was to win against Dean's internal war. No, he would just have to, what did the humans say? 'Grin and bear it?'
He did not feel like grinning.
His nose was blocked with clotted blood, his head was pounding with insistent drums, and he could feel the bruises forming under his eyes, black and blue, like the colours on Dean's police car. The annoyingly happy nurse trying to put a needle in his arm was irritating him beyond belief, while Sam explained to the doctor what had happened.
"He pissed him off…"
"No, never happened before…"
"You owe me one, Garth"
"…watch out for him…"
Two hours, and many tests later, Castiel was cleared. With an unbroken nose, seven stitches, a very mild concussion and a moderately bruised ego, Sam took him back to Deans. They let themselves in, and Castiel was strangely relieved that Dean was still not home. He was not in the mood to talk to him just yet, even though the pain killers the doctor had given him had taken the edge off the pain. All he wanted to do was sleep.
But Sam told him no. He could not sleep yet, because of the pain pills and concussion. Sam made him some coffee, and sat him down on the couch.
"Now, are you gonna tell me what you guy were talking about that made him angry enough to hit you? He hasn't done that in a while, hit someone, I mean." Sam talked quietly, well aware of the headache still present, despite the medication. Castiel did not want to tell Sam what they were fighting about; he did not know if Dean wanted Sam to know. He was very confused. He found, now, that he actually wanted Dean here, foul mood or not.
"Thank you, Sam, for taking care of me. But I do not want to talk about it, if that is alright." Castiel cradled the coffee in his hands, enjoying the warmth and comfort it provided.
Sam sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Ok, man. But I know Dean better than anyone, probably better than he knows himself. I could help you."
Castiel shook his head. "Thank you, Sam. Maybe if I cannot fix this, I will ask for your help. Dean will not talk to me, but… just… make sure he is ok? Is that acceptable?" He looked at Sam, whose features were coloured with concern and pity.
"Yeah, that's good. I can do that. He can be a complete shit head sometimes, Castiel. But he's a good guy."
"I know, Sam. He has had a hard life."
They both looked around when the creak of the door alerted them to Dean's arrival back to the apartment. He stumbled into the living room and stopped; slowly taking in Castiel's bruised face and bandaged head. He gave them both a blank look, one so void of emotion that it made Castiel's heart ache.
Oh, so your still there then, that's good.
Knowing his heart was still beating was a relief, but it was short lived. Dean turned from them both, stumbling slightly before heading down the hallway. The sharp sound of the door to the bedroom slamming shut brought them both back to reality.
"Shit, he must've gone to a bar." Castiel looked at Sam questioningly, unsure of what he meant.
"He's drunk, Castiel. I'm gonna go talk to him. Whatever you did, you don't deserve this." Sam patted him on the shoulder as he got up, before making his way to Deans room. Castiel could hear Sam knocking on Dean's door, the door opening then closing, then soft voices talking through the wall. He was in no position to hear what they were saying, and he did not want to. Likely it was about him, and he did not want to hear the things that Dean had to say about him at that moment.
He probably thought Castiel was the lowest of the low, making him think there was something there, with the looks, the touching of their hands, that incident in the kitchen… not to mention the morning on the couch or the bed, all the while having an imaginary suitor waiting for him. It was such a mess, and Dean had made it clear he wanted no explanation, which made everything that much harder. He could not ask Sam to do his fighting for him, this, he had to do alone.
He heard the voices from the bedroom become raised, before Sam came storming down the hall, fury written all over his face.
"I don't know what the fuck you said, or did, but he is a fucking mess, Castiel. Either fix it, or fuck off and leave him alone. He's had too many people in his life who've hurt him before you." Sam was seething, Castiel could see that much. His head was still foggy with the concussion, and the drugs, so he just nodded until Sam turned a left the apartment.
Castiel looked over at Riot, who was cowering under the TV in his bed. He felt bad for the little dog, who did not know what was happening with all the raised voices and arguments. Castiel grabbed the blanket from the top of the couch, lay down and threw it over himself. He felt the little creature make a bed in the crook of his bent knees, and he settled down to another uncomfortable sleep.