Just a little chapter, some friction and some fluff, but hopefully it makes your day better. :)
Chamber, thanks again for another amazing review and the following/favoriting! I'm so glad you're enjoying this take on their relationship!
After Sam's announcement, the three of them fell into old routines. It didn't matter that Sam and Dean were technically dead, and they were hanging out in Heaven. It didn't matter that Sam had lived a whole life after Dean and Cas. None of it mattered, because they were still... them. Team Free Will, drinking beers and cracking jokes. It was almost as comfortable as that first night back with Cas, maybe even more so because there was no looming conversation and Sam was with them.
This was the only part of his life Dean had thoroughly enjoyed. The camaraderie. It had been one of Cas and Sam's favorites too. It was nice to revisit it sometimes.
Eventually Dean felt like it was time to upgrade their drinking game, to move on to the Good Stuff from the generic beer they'd been drinking. He went to the kitchen to dig out a whiskey bottle, and Sam decided to follow and help... or so he said.
In reality, as soon as he and Dean were in the far corner of the kitchen (digging for the whiskey), he whispered, "Did something happen between you and Cas?"
"What? No, why?"
"I don't know, something just seems different between you guys. I can't put my finger on it."
"It's probably the dating."
Sam whirled to face Cas, who had apparently also decided to follow them into the kitchen. Dean, finally finding the whiskey, pulled both it and himself out of the cupboard with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, the what?" Sam said incredulously.
Cas looked blandly over at Dean. "You didn't tell him?"
"I haven't exactly seen the guy since we started, so, no, hadn't come up yet."
"You're dating?" Sam repeated, still shocked. Dean rolled his eyes, and that was all the confirmation Sam needed. "When the hell did this start?!"
Dean and Cas exchanged a glance as Dean pulled three glasses from another cupboard. "Don't look at me," Dean said. "The start of this is all on you."
Cas's focus lasered in on Dean. "You didn't tell him?"
"Tell me what?" Sam was looking between the two of them, trying hard to redirect their attention to explaining things to him. He'd forgotten how much he hated being the third wheel in their conversations.
Dean just shrugged at Cas, completely ignoring Sam's question.
"Dean!" Ah, some things never changed, like that long-suffering way Cas yelled at Dean.
"What! It didn't feel like it was my place to tell, okay?" He was refusing to look at Cas, pouring generous helpings of whiskey into the glasses instead.
"I never intended for you to bear that experience alone, Dean. I assumed you would have told Sam, at least!"
"Yeah, well, a lot of things didn't go as intended that day, did they?" Dean snapped back, finally turning to face them.
"HEY!" Sam shouted. Surprised, both Dean and Cas looked over at Sam. "How about someone tells me now?" he insisted.
Again, Dean and Cas glanced at each other, that look of a thousand words they'd always had and annoyed Sam endlessly, but this time Dean just made a "go ahead" motion towards Cas and then handed a glass of whiskey to him and Sam.
Cas took a deep breath and faced Sam, focusing on him after one last glare towards Dean. "Do you remember when Jack died?" he started.
Sam blinked, not expecting the story to start there, of all places. "Course," he said.
"I... while I was in Heaven retrieving his soul, I learned that the Empty was there for him as well. It had been... furious... with me, specifically, for waking up. For the time Jack brought me back." He paused and Sam nodded. He knew most of this, but Cas wouldn't be bringing it up if it wasn't relevant. "It claimed that because of Jack's angelic heritage, he belonged to it. It..." He took a deep breath. "It knew Jack was important to me, and was using Jack to hurt me. To punish me."
To the side, Dean took a long drink from his glass where he leaned against the kitchen counter. Sam found himself taking one too. What a shit life they'd led.
Cas went on. "I knew I wouldn't be able to get Jack out. Even at my strongest, I couldn't overpower the Empty itself. So... I made a deal." Sam cringed. Dean took another long drink. They both knew where Cas had gotten that idea, where he'd learned that self-sacrificing bullshit. "I offered myself instead of Jack. I was the one the Empty wanted anyway, so if it agreed to let me return Jack to Earth, then... I would go with it. Willingly."
Cas paused, and Dean was refiling his glass, but Sam was lost. "But you came back with Jack that day," he said, confused.
"Yes," Cas confirmed. "The Empty agreed to my deal, but not my terms. It said it would let me go too, and instead take me at a moment of true happiness. That would be my punishment."
Sam swore under his breath.
"My thoughts exactly," Dean growled.
Cas glanced over at Dean, finally seemed to notice the glass of whiskey in his hand, and took a sip. His eyebrows shot up, and Dean knew he could taste it. Hopefully it took the edge off this story for him, and based on the second, longer, drink he took, he didn't hate the flavor either.
Sam's eyebrows came up too, not knowing that Cas could taste in this house, but before he got around to asking, Cas went on. "The day I died-"
"The day you were taken," Dean interrupted angrily.
"Fine," Cas agreed, glancing over at Dean in irritation, "the day I was taken, we were trapped in the bunker, being hunted down by Billie, and... I knew that if the Empty were summoned, it would take her too out of spite. So..." He straightened, but his eyes were locked on a square of floor. "So I told Dean how I felt about him."
Silence hung in the kitchen.
"And that summoned the Empty?" Sam said, a little surprised. It didn't seem like such a big event to him, certainly not True Happiness big.
"Sometimes, true happiness can be just in the being yourself," Cas said simply.
Sam swore under his breath again, and then finished his drink. No one said anything as Cas and Dean let Sam absorb the information. This explained so much about Dean's behavior after Cas died - after he was taken, would be how Dean would phrase it. How Dean always had phrased it. Sam hadn't even noticed, but in the years after, there was the time Cas died - when Jack was born - and the time Cas was taken. Always distinct.
"I believe the next part of our story is yours, Dean," Cas said quietly after Dean stepped forward to refill glasses all around.
"There's not much to say," Dean said, staring at the floor just like Cas had. There never was, according to him. "When I got up here and figured out Cas was alive, I... " he swallowed, leaning back against the countertop again. "I mean, you know me," he said, glancing up at Sam briefly, "I had no idea where I stood with what had happened. Eventually I realized I wasn't figuring it out on my own and...we decided to try it."
"Try what?" Sam asked, his brain completely fried by everything he was hearing.
"Us," Dean said simply, glancing over at Cas. Cas, who was already looking at Dean, who held his gaze in that inappropriately intense way they'd always shared. That gaze which suddenly made a hell of a lot more sense.
And suddenly, their behavior since Sam's arrival made a hell of a lot more sense too. They had been so casual about being in each other's space, but also awkward. Looking at each other but trying not to get caught. So aware of each other, but trying not to be. And so, so, so calm. Comfortable. Friendly. None of the usual tension that came with them being together.
"Son of a bitch," Sam muttered, surprised.
Dean smiled. "Shut up, Sammy."
"Dude, the things I could say right now-"
"This is the part where you shut up, Sam!"
"Deastiel lives!" Sam shouted gleefully, jumping back as Dean lunged for him.
"Who is Deastiel?" Cas said, confused both by the name and the comment.
"DO NOT SAY IT SAM!" Dean shouted, still chasing Sam across the kitchen. Sam laughed but held up his hands in surrender.
"Who is Deastiel?" Cas repeated, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Sam's laughter.
"Don't worry about it, Cas, it's nothing," Dean said, hissing that last part emphatically to Sam, who was laughing harder.
Eventually, Sam got his laughter under control (mostly), and stepped forward just enough to set his glass on the counter. When he opened his mouth Dean shot him a warning glare, but his hands came up in surrender again. "Seriously," he said, still smiling, "I... I'm happy for you guys. You seem... good."
Cas and Dean glanced at each other again, and this time they were both smiling. Just small smiles, nothing major, but... it was the same smile. Sam recognized it, from when he and Eileen were just getting going. He'd never seen Dean smile like that before.
And then the glance turned into one of their extended, awkward, intense gazes, and Sam was reminded again how much they made him feel like a third wheel. How, finally, for real, officially, he was a third wheel.
"Well, now that we've all gotten a bunch of sharing out and you two are getting... you ...again, I'm going to head out," Sam said, backing toward the door. Either the words or the motion seemed to get their attention away from each other, because both looked to Sam and followed him out of the kitchen.
"It was good to see you again, Sam," Cas said earnestly, pulling Sam in for a hug.
"Don't let Dean push you around," Sam joked, hugging Cas back. Dean winked at Sam over Cas's shoulder, and suddenly Sam regretted the joke. "I'll... uh..." Why had Sam even come over and subjected himself to their weirdness again? Oh yeah! "I'll let you guys know when we hear from DJ again. We'll plan some sort of family reunion."
"Sounds like fun," Dean said sarcastically, and Cas elbowed him gently. He rolled his eyes and added, "But it'll be worth it to meet the kid."
Sam couldn't help it, he smiled at them. At the whole situation. Dean being Dean, and Cas... counterbalancing him. The two of them pushing each other to be better.
"Hey Sam," Dean called at Sam's retreating back. "You're the only one we've told about..."
"Don't worry, Eileen and I won't tell anyone before you," Sam replied, winking.
"Bitch!"
"Jerk!"
No matter what Dean said or how he acted, this was good. Maybe, finally, he'd be at peace.
A/N: I have this headcannon that Sam really emphatically believes it should be DeAstiel and refuses to call it anything else. Not that he's spent much time thinking about it. Really it was just the one time he told Eileen the story, that time he laughed until he cried and then couldn't stop because he missed his brother so damn much. That time Eileen had to put him to bed like a kid because he'd cried and drank himself into a puddle of exhausted misery, and somehow in that realized that she was finally ready for the kids Sam wanted. That time she'd thought, maybe they'd have a son, and maybe... maybe they'd name him Dean.