Chapter 20: Life Goes On

Over the next few weeks, the inhabitants of the bunker fell into another easy routine. John waking Dean up in the morning, around the time Sam left for his run, John suggesting they go with him. Dean refusing and covering his head with his pillow, while telling John to 'go away'. John trying again a few minutes later, wondering what happened to his boy who was so keen on physical training. Dean telling him again to go away, and he didn't understand the importance of getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to run when it could just as easily be done later in the day or at night.

John going on a run, catching up with Sam and then steadying his pace. Returning after going a few miles. Then finding Dean cooking breakfast while yelling at Castiel about putting weight on his leg, and that he should be staying in bed. Castiel seemingly not listening to a word as he sat at the table and read a book or newspaper. Sipping at his coffee very slowly, and deliberately before Dean nearly toppled him over as he lifted his leg up and put it on a chair, elevating it. While Castiel belligerently told Dean that he was fine, and there was no need to fuss over him.

After breakfast, John would work on the cars. Dean coming in to help for a few hours, talking with John about anything that John could think of. But mostly keeping to himself, headphones on and blocking out everything else. He would work on the cars, bopping his head to the music, and few lyrics escaping through his lips every so often. The volume loud enough that John could hear it from the other side of the room.

John was, however, very happy at the way they had seemed to become like a family again. Well, mostly family, Castiel was still very much there, and he couldn't leave now, even if he wanted to. Though, after spending a week with the guy without someone around to distract them, he thinks he understands why his boys hunted with him. He was good, he had to admit it. He was good at fighting, and smart, and now that he was back with his boys he could see the way he was with them, verses how he is in a hunt. Though he did seem very angry at his current predicament. Actually refusing to acknowledge it in most cases, and continuing on like normal until someone made him sit down and take a pain pill.

Which of course was driving Dean up a wall. But that was Dean, John thought, always the care-taker. Since he was a child, he was always the one to take care of everyone he thought highly of, and he secretly loved it. Mary, when she and John where fighting and he would walk out. John, whenever he would come out of a hunt in bad shape. First there for emotional support, then as he grew older, he would be there to patch him up as well. Then of course, there was Sam. Dean had practically raised him by himself, even at the age of four, Dean could change diapers and warm a bottle and mix formula. Now that he had someone else to care for, John had noticed, he seemed to be much calmer.

Maybe that was just Dean. He was happiest when he had someone to take care for, to look after. The boy was gentler then he liked to let on, always covering himself with layers of bravado, and macho charisma. At times John thought that he was almost over compensating, like he was hiding something underneath all that. Which made him think about that conversation Dean had started a couple weeks ago. Was he trying to tell him something, and if he was...

How would he have taken it if Dean or Sam had come home with a boy instead of a girl? John thought about that for a few minutes, watching Dean as he worked under the hood of an old Town Car. He had been so hesitant to answer before, because it was never an issue, he never thought it would be. He won't deny that he wouldn't have been confused. After all, Dean was always in so much trouble because he was found with girls in odd places. But what would he have done if they where boys.

He'd like to think he would be understanding and accepting of his child's choices. That he would treat Dean like he always did. Maybe he would have been more suspicious of his love life had that been the case. Men where not known for love before lust, but then again, Dean was the same way for awhile. But, he would have understood. It's not like it was a monster or something. As long as they where human, John didn't see a problem with it.

Again, he looked over at his oldest, shoulder deep in the engine of the car. Humming a tune that sounded vaguely like Piano Man. John rolled his eyes, Dean was always slightly tone deaf, though he never really had the heart to tell him. He cleared his throat once to get his son's attention, and when that didn't work he opted for speaking.

"Dean." John prompted, his son still listening to his music and didn't notice. "DEAN!" He practically yelled, Dean starting slightly and looked over to John, removing his earphones.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, watching his father expectantly.

"You asked me a question a couple of weeks ago, do you remember it?" John asked, watching his son for a reaction. What he got was a slight raising of the eyebrows.

"Which one?" Dean asked for clarification.

"You asked what I would have done had you come home with a guy instead of a girl." He answered, getting a nod from Dean. Dean moving his hand in a circular motion, indicating for John to go on. "I couldn't really answer you then, because I didn't think about it. I didn't believe there was a reason for it. After all, it had never been an issue. But." He said, looking over to his son and seeing a closed off expression on his face. One that told him Dean was dreading what the answer would be. "I'd like to think I'd be okay with it."

"Okay with it?" Dean asked, sounding slightly offended.

"I like to think that I would except it. Treat you the same as always." John clarified. "That it wouldn't change anything and I'd still love you." He said, sighing before he continued. "I mean, I'm your father, and nothing is going to change that. I'd be confused for awhile, probably not know how to talk to you about certain things. But I would still care, still want you safe and I would never have thrown you boys out for that." He said, seeing Dean's face had opened up a bit. "I mean, come on. At least they would be human, right." He finished with a chuckle, Dean's eyes widening slightly, before going back to that calm mask.

"You wouldn't care if your kids came home with a man?" Dean asked, looking for some clarification, and skipping over that last bit. "So, if said I was bi, you wouldn't have thrown me out or anything? I mean, you threw Sam out because he went to school."

"Bi?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. He had never heard that term before.

"Like both men and women." Dean answered simply. John stopping to think about that. In his mind, that wasn't really gay, it was half gay.

"I'd like to think I wouldn't." John answered, remembering the night Sam left with vivid clarity. "Sam leaving was something completely different. You know that. Just like you know that my number one philosophy is that you don't turn your back on family. No matter what they do, or who they are." He finished, watching Dean shake his head while processing that information.

"But that being said." John started, watching his son. "Where you trying to tell me something that day?" He asked, Dean nearly dropping his wrench.

John watched his son as he placed his hands on the hood of the car to steady himself. Taking in several deep breathes. He seemed to be thinking something over in his head and John didn't want to rush him. He needed to let him take his time. But Dean then raised his head, retrieved his tool and went back to working.

"No." Dean answered quickly. "I was just curious." He said, sticking his earphones back in and turning up his music. John making a note to watch his son more carefully over the next few days.

Over the next few days, Dean could tell his father was keeping a closer eye on him. He didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed. On the one hand, he knew his father was trying to be supportive and caring in his own way, knew he had acted suspicious, and his father wasn't stupid. But on the other hand, it made it so much harder for him to get a moment with Castiel. It was one thing to come out to his father. It was entirely different thing to tell him that he was sleeping with a guy John barely trusted.

But there was really no use in worrying about it at the moment. He told himself. In the meantime, he focused his attention on getting Castiel better. It wasn't like he could do anything else at the moment. Not aloud to go on a hunt, and no one had called needing any kind of research. But he thought that might have been a good thing. Castiel was a handful in and of himself.

He wasn't exactly needy, nor was he demanding like the people you see on T.V. when they're injured. It was just that he didn't want to admit that he had an injury. Deciding that the way to handle it is to limp around like nothing was wrong, and avoid taking his pain pills. When someone did remind him that he had to take it easy, he would get grumpy and sullen. Refusing to go to his room when told he needed to stay in bed, and going out for a walk when he was told he needed to keep off his leg.

Not that Dean was complaining. He had taken plenty of opportunity to help Castiel bathe, or help him dress. Despite Castiel's arguments that he could do it himself. Dean shutting off any words with a kiss, causing him to calm down slightly. However, that was the extent of their private interactions.

That first night Castiel had been back, Dean was just happy to see him. He couldn't hold himself back, but it seemed Castiel wasn't going to be able to do much of anything until he had healed. Or at least stopped taking the medication. But he could wait, so long as he was there with him. Dean was happy, just sleeping next to him.

Well, that was until John had started checking around the bunker more in the night. He was apparently suffering from some form of latent Dad instinct, or insomnia. Because he would walk around the halls of the bunkers, stopping outside Dean's bedroom and sometimes even poking his head inside, at all hours of the night. Never at the same times either, every night was a different time, and more then once a night. Preventing Dean from knowing just when to leave.

He was getting frustrated, and he knew it. It was obvious that he was taking it out on his family, if the looks they gave him where anything to go by. He tried his best to keep himself in check. But he couldn't help the short answers, and the slamming of drawers or doors. Sam actually taking the time to tell him he was being an ass, while John down right threatened him to get his act together. Or he would be forced to take action, though Dean had no idea what that would be. He assumed being forced to go on workouts.

He was cut off from his musings, as Sam came into the room and sat down in front of him. Sam watched him for a moment, looking as if he where rehearsing what he was going to say. Dean pointedly ignoring him until he spoke. Feigning fascination in a book about Aztec coming of age rituals, and burial rights.

"We need to talk." Sam started. Watching his brother carefully.

"Okay." Dean said, not turning away from the book he was 'reading'. Sam rolled his eyes, and grabbed Dean's book out of his hands. Replacing it one of his own. "What's this?" He asked, looking up at his brother.

"It's a book about ancient marks, curses, and demonic tainting." Sam stated, looking at Dean meaningfully.

"And the relevance of it is?" Dean asked, tapering off at the end for Sam to answer. Sam, for his part, rolling his eyes at his brothers wording.

"I think your boyfriend is rubbing off on you." Sam said, before explaining. "It's a book about Demonic marks, in other words, the mark on your arm." He said, Dean getting what he was saying now.

"Great, so there a cure for this thing or what?" Dean asked, looking down at the pages.

"There is a mention of something." Sam started hesitantly. "Castiel has also mentioned finding something, but he was sure you wouldn't approve of it." He admitted. "I think this is what he was talking about."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"From what I can tell." Sam said, pulling the book back towards himself. "The essence of an Angel, or the grace." Sam explained. "Can cause the mark to diminish, or rather die from poisoning. Because it's Demonic, it needs evil to survive. Starving the mark is doing really well, but an Angel's grace is pure enough that it would be poison to the mark. If given in small doses over time."

"No." Dean said, shaking his head. "No, I'm not going to ask Cas to pump me full of grace. He would never survive it."

"But Dean, it could cure you." Sam argued. "I'm not saying that every once of grace Cas has needs to go to you. But he is the only Angel we know that would help."

"No, Sam." Dean argued again. "He nearly died last time, and you know it. Cas would make sure I was cured, even it that meant that he would die. He's just as self sacrificing as we are." He pointed out. He refused to let Sam talk him into this. He and Castiel had just gotten together. He would rather live with the damn mark, then risk loosing Castiel for just a cure of something that wasn't going to kill him.

"Well, maybe we should talk to Cas." Sam said, watching his brother as he stood up to pace the library. "Tell him that he could do it, so long as he controlled how much he let out."

"No, Sam. How many times do I have to say this." Dean bit out. "He doesn't have much as it is. You know that. I know you've noticed him sleeping and eating lately."

"He's pretending to be human." Sam reasoned.

"No, he's not. He's doing all of that to stretch the grace as much as possible." Dean told him, watching the door for any intruders. "He's keeping it as long as possible. But he doesn't have much. If he did, he wouldn't be bothering with bathing, or eating, or sleeping, and he is sleeping. I know I'm there."

"Then what do you suppose we do, Dean?" Sam asked, looking at his brother pleadingly. "Cause this is the only thing I'm finding." He argued. "Would you be happier if I went out and stole the grace from an Angel that we don't know? Because, if you don't want to use Cas's, then I need to start trying to track one down."

"I don't know." Dean confessed, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. "But I'm not going to risk Cas's life, just to get rid of something that is not killing me. I can live with the mark, Cas can't live without grace."

"Unless he turns human." Sam suggested under his breath. Dean however heard it, and sent a reproachful look at his brother.

"He won't turn human again. We learned this last time." Dean reminded him. "He just got sick, and nearly died. This time, probably very slowly and painfully, just because I have to watch it happen." He nearly yelled, feeling a sharp pain in his chest at the very idea. "And, besides, if Cas already knows about this, and isn't just going along with it. That means he has weighed the odd, and decided it wasn't going to work." He told Sam, who nodded his head in agreement.

"I guess your right." Sam conceded. "If Cas thought it would work, he would have gone ahead and done it, without even telling us."

"Yeah." Dean shot at Sam, pulling a book towards him. Telling Sam that the conversation was over and he wasn't going to talk about it anymore. Sam sighed, picking up his book. Watching Dean for another few moments before getting up and walking out of the room.

John was bent over a old Ford, replacing a spark plug when he heard the door to the garage door opening. Looking up, he hoped to find Dean there. As the boy had decided to call it quits early and disappeared out the door. John hoping that he had just taken a little break and returning. But he was disappointed to find Castiel who was poking his head in and looking around.

"Is Dean in here?" Castiel asked when he saw John watching him.

John shook his head in bewilderment. Castiel's secretive nature striking him as odd. The guy may have his faults, but John had never seen him actively keeping things from Dean. He was even more surprised when Castiel walked further into the garage, and limped over to the table saw. Picking up his covered leg, and placing it on the table.

"Cas." John started, hesitatingly as Castiel pulled his pant leg up over the cast. "Not that it's any of my business or anything. And far be it for me to tell you what to do...But what are you doing?" He asked, surprised at the usually stoic man's behavior.

"I am tired of this thing, and I don't need it." Was the only answer Castiel gave as he picked up a manual saw and placed it to his cast.

"Whoa, kid, maybe you should just take a moment to think about that." John cautioned, walking over to Castiel to take the sharp object out of his hand. But Castiel pushed him off, and started sawing at the cast on his leg.

John grabbed Castiel's hand to stop him, and attempted to take the saw from him again. He could already see the cracks in the plaster beginning to spread. Just another foot, and Castiel would have taken it off, and probably sawed through his leg. Castiel sent him a glare. One that John was sure would have killed him on sight, if looks could in fact kill.

"Let go, John." Castiel commanded, jerking his hand, trying to knock John off.

"Your gonna saw through your damn leg." John tried to reason, pulling the tool to himself.

"I know what I'm doing." Castiel snapped, trying to pull the tool to his leg again. "You don't need to be part of this. Just go back to the car and say you didn't see me." He ordered, looking at John as if he was a disobedient soldier. John also getting why the guy was probably thrown out of whatever agency he had been apart of. The only people who talked like that where the ones who broke the rules, constantly.

"Oh, yeah. That's believable." John argued sarcastically. "Like I'm not gonna hear somebody sawing away at their own leg."

"Then say you didn't pay attention to whatever I was doing." Castiel yelled back, jerking his hand out of John's and starting in on his leg again. John rolled his eyes, and stepped away from the deranged man. He was going to have to get help to talk sense into him. But by the time he found Sam or Dean and returned, the guy could have already caused some serious damage to himself. He grabbed his gun, and put it to Castiel's head, cocking it. Castiel froze, and turned his head to John.

"Your going to shoot me, in the head, because I refuse to wear a cast any longer?" Castiel asked, voice calm, and condescending. As if he where pointing out the stupidity in John's plan.

"Put the saw down." John ordered, keeping his face blank.

"John, don't you think your taking this a bit too seriously." Castiel cautioned. "You and I both know, you don't care what I do to myself." He pointed out, staring John in the eye.

John thought on that for a moment, keeping his gun steady. Yes, he did not much care for the guy. But he respected him, and he owed him for helping his children out of the scrapes they had gotten themselves in. It wasn't like he wanted to see the guy covered in his own blood again, especially not self inflicted. He also knew that if Castiel did hurt himself, Dean would most likely blame him for not stopping the guy. Even if it was Castiel's own choice. It's what he would have done. Had done, in fact. When Sam was being purposefully disobedient, and he blamed Dean for not stopping him, or not making him.

"If I do, Dean will blame me and I'll have to put up with more shit." John stated flatly. He had worked hard to get to where he was with Dean as it was. He did not look forward to falling back because Castiel was being impatient with his healing process. Luckily or unluckily for him, Dean choose that moment to walk in to tell him lunch was ready.

John watched as Dean paused at the door. Taking in the scene in front of him. Castiel, leg on the table, saw poised to start cutting away at the thing again. John pointing a cocked and loaded gun at his friends head. His face became blank as he walked forward. He didn't say anything as he grabbed the gun, and the saw out of both their hands, and walked out of the room.

John heard Castiel sigh next to him and looked over. He could see worry in his eyes, and well as a disappointment he'd never seen before. He watched as Castiel moved his leg off the table, and limped out of the room. John watched him go, letting out a sigh of his own, as he pinched the ridge of his nose. This was going to be a hard one to explain.

Yay, I got it up. Sorry it's a bit late, I was crazy busy yesterday.

Looks like someone is going to be in trouble, and Dean is not happy. I wonder what's going to happen next. Tune in next week to find out.

Let me know what you think, and have a nice day.