Notes: Thank you to all the readers who were generous enough to leave me comments on the last chapter. It makes me so happy to hear from you guys! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own obsession with Supernatural.
Trigger warnings: Mention of drug use.
It's a beautiful day for a hike, and Dean is doing his best to block out everything that's going on between him and Cas and enjoy the experience. He's willing himself to pretend this is just a normal outing with his family, one he can expect to have many more of in his life, actively resisting any thought that this could be the last time they'll all be together like this, enjoying each other's company as a family. He knows it'll be all over for him if he lets his mind consider all the things he might have already lost.
The trail isn't wide enough for all three of them and Dean has fallen a couple of steps behind Cas and Sammy, who are walking up the hill side by side. Dean appreciates the vantage point, getting immense enjoyment from being able to observe his two favorite people in the world like this. Sammy's been filling them in on everything that's been going on with him at school. And, it's not like Dean doesn't text the kid every single day, just to make sure he's alive and safe, talk to him a few times a week, and Facetime him every Sunday, but this is so much better, having Sammy home for an entire weekend, getting to hear his stories in person and watch his face light up when he talks about an interesting class or a new friend.
"-she's in my abnormal psych class." Sam swivels his upper body around for a moment to include Dean and Dean pulls himself out of the role of observer to engage with his brother. "She's really smart. And, she's super nice, and kind, I think." Dean watches his brother's profile as the boy looks to Cas next to him. "You'd really like her, Cas."
"What?" Dean smirks. "I don't like nice, kind people? I only hang out with assholes?"
Sam laughs. "I just mean, she's always volunteering for stuff. Like there's this table as you go into the dining hall that groups can use to kind of advertise what they're doing, to try to get people to sign up for their club or donate to their cause or whatever, and I've seen her there a bunch of times, trying to get people to sign up for a blood drive, or collecting canned goods for a food drive at a soup kitchen near school. She's just always doing something good. Like Cas."
"You might have noticed I'm a firefighter." Dean says. "Some people would think that's kinda good."
Dean knows without seeing Sammy's face that the kid is playfully rolling his eyes. "Of course it is, Dean. I just mean that Cas is super into volunteering his time, for free, and that community service is really important to him, so I thought he would appreciate that Keisha volunteers, too."
"Keisha sounds like a lovely girl, Sam." Cas says.
Dean is blindsided by a sudden wave of regret as it hits him how right Sammy is, that community service is very important to Cas, and how Dean's never made an effort to join his boyfriend in any of his volunteer work. Most of what Cas does is provide free financial services to non-profits and it's not like Dean could help with that, but he could have volunteered in another capacity at one of the places Cas volunteers, the way Sammy had done at the animal shelter during high school. Dean wonders if he should have signed up to volunteer with the animals when Sammy was doing it. If maybe they would have created positive family memories. As it was, Dean had been the holdout on them getting a family pet, citing that Sammy was leaving for college in a couple of years and questioning whether they really wanted to be stuck with that responsibility in case they decided to travel or go out more once Sammy was away at school. He hadn't wanted to be tied down to caring for an animal. But, maybe the whole thing would have played out differently if Dean had volunteered there, too, and fallen hopelessly in love with some little mutt who needed a home. Even if Dean hadn't wanted to make a big time commitment, he could have done something small but meaningful. Cas was a regular blood donor and Dean could remember Cas asking him if he wanted to come with him and donate a couple of times after Dean had first moved in. Dean had felt justified declining since he had felt like he was running himself crazy in those days, working two jobs and taking care of Sammy, but he hasn't been that busy in years. It hits him hard that Cas might be just as disappointed in his lack of interest in volunteering as Dean is in Cas's lack of interest in socialization, and that unlike him, Cas had at least tried to do what Dean wanted him to a few times before dismissing the idea. The realization fills his chest with a heavy sadness.
"I got to hang out with her last weekend." Sam is partially turned around again, giving Dean a funny look. "Keisha." Sam clarifies, and Dean pulls his head back into the conversation, not wanting to miss any details of Sammy's life."
"Yeah, obviously. I'm with you, kid." Dean assures him.
Sam laughs. "Sorry, Dean, you looked a little out of it."
"So, did you ask her out?" Dean asks.
"No, I feel like stuff at college is more casual, like people just hang out in each other's dorm rooms, or with groups, or get dinner together at the dining hall. I was in Frankie's room on Friday night with a few people. She ended up coming by, not to hang out with me really, but her friend knows Frankie and he texted her that we were hanging out watching Netflix. She came over and brought Keisha with her."
Dean can hear the smile in his little brother's voice as he stares at the back of the kid's head as he walks behind him on the trail. "Yeah? How did it go?"
"It was good. She's really cool. And, smart and funny."
"Ooh, Sammy's got a crush!" Dean teases.
Sammy laughs lightly. "Yeah, I think I do. But, it kind of got awkward at the end of the night."
"Awkward, like sex awkward? Like one of you wanted to round more bases than the other person?" Dean asks. Cas turns to look at Sam, and Dean gets a flash of his disapproval in his profile. As much as Dean wants things to go well so he can convince Cas to take him back, he isn't bothered by annoying Cas about this. He loves that Sammy is still so open with them about his life, and if the kid wants to tell them about a college hookup, Dean's damn sure going to listen.
Sam laughs. "No, perv, there were no bases involved. It was more like stupid awkward, than sex awkward." Sam says. "Frankie and this other guy, Paul, were really stoned. They had these gummies and I think they went a little overboard earlier before we knew the girls were going to come over. Keisha didn't say anything, but I could tell she thought it was stupid. Like Paul could barely even sit up and keep his eyes open, and Frankie wasn't much better. He just kept saying all this stupid stuff, like telling all these long, slow, pointless stories. It was kind of uncomfortable."
Dean watches Cas study Sam, the half of the man's mouth that Dean can see set in a firm line. "Your friends use drugs, Samuel?"
Dean watches Sam look quickly toward Cas, the kid's expression shifting nervously at the use of his full name, before the kid sets his gaze back on the trail in front of him, avoiding eye contact. "Oh, uh, I mean, just pot. And, just to relax on the weekends. They take school seriously, though. They aren't stoners or anything, if that's what you're asking."
"And, do you also use drugs?" Cas asks.
Dean studies the back of Sammy's head intently as he waits for his brother's response. It's not that he really cares whether his brother is using pot at school. He kind of figures everyone does that at college. Dean hadn't, but he had been an adult, working a full time job, living with Cas and commuting to school in the evenings. He assumes most kids at real colleges use pot at some point, and he trusts his brother to not let it affect his education. It's more that he's curious to see whether Sam will lie to Cas. He knows he would have in Sam's shoes if his dad had been the one asking.
"I mean, not regularly or anything." Sam sounds unsure, as if he's asking a question instead of answering one. "But yeah, I have a few times, but only on weekends, and not vaping or anything, just like a gummy or edible or two, to chill a little from school stress." Sam pauses, then adds. "Usually just one." As if that's going to make his admission fly any better with Cas.
"I'm not ok with you using recreational drugs, Samuel." Cas's tone is stern now and even though the man is looking straight ahead as he walks, Dean can see the tension in the set of his shoulders under his hoodie. He knows without seeing it that Cas's expression is a serious mix of concern and reprimand. Dean feels a flutter of worry of his own that the fun atmosphere of the morning might be ruined. He wonders if he should jump in to try to salvage the mood, but he can't play this off like it's ok. Some of Dean's friends from the warehouse smoke pot and he has no problem with it, but he knows that Sammy using drugs, even just pot, is likely triggering for Cas because of how Balthazar died. And, Dean really doesn't like the idea of his little brother being out of it or not completely in control of himself around a bunch of little shithead college kids that Dean doesn't know. It doesn't exactly feel safe to him, so if Cas wants to ream the kid out for it, Dean's not going to stop him. "I understand that you are an adult and that you will make your own decisions about how you live your life now that you're away at school, but I want you to know that it upsets me to hear that you're spending any of your time at college under the influence of drugs." Dean watches his brother's shoulders slump under the weight of the reprimand and he thinks about how good Cas is at chastising the kid. Dean sometimes feels that he only has two settings himself, laughing off whatever Sammy says or does as a joke, or yelling and completely losing it until he's got the kid in tears. But, Cas has the ability to calmly and lovingly make Sammy feel how disappointed he is in whatever the kid did wrong without raising his voice or making Sammy feel worthless or unloved.
"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to upset you. I honestly didn't think it would. A lot of my friends' parents are ok with them using drugs if it's just pot, and I just kind of figured that you guys would be cool with it, too, considering…..." Sammy trails off as if he's unsure of what he wants to say.
"Considering what, Samuel?" Cas asks. He's looking toward Sammy now, and Dean can see the small frown and honest questioning in his profile. Sammy glances quickly toward Cas, before refocusing on the trail in front of them. "You do remember that my brother Balthazar died of a drug overdose, don't you?" Dean watches the back of Sammy's head move as the kid nods slowly. "I'm not sure why you thought I would be cool with my child using drugs."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure your brother was using something a lot stronger than pot." Sammy says, exasperation and annoyance clear in his tone. "And, I think you're being a real hypocrite right now, Cas."
"Whoa!" Dean interjects. "Hey, watch yourself, Sammy."
Cas just nods his head slowly for a moment, then looks at Sammy with a level of intensity that makes the kid visibly uncomfortable when he makes eye contact. Sammy must have about five inches on Cas now, but Dean watches his brother practically cower under Cas's stare. "It would serve you well to remember who you're speaking to, Samuel. I'm not one of your little friends. I am your parent and you will treat me with respect, no matter how old you are or where you live. Do you understand me?"
Dean watches his brother nod and feels a wave of the familiar jealousy he experienced so often when he and Sammy first moved in with Cas and Dean had realized how much better his own childhood would have been if he'd had someone like Cas there to lovingly and non-violently, kick his ass when he'd needed it. "Yes, Cas." Sammy's tone is all contrite obedience.
"Apologize to Cas, Sammy." Dean prompts when the boy doesn't offer an apology on his own.
"I'm going to, Dean. Jeez, give me a minute!" The annoyance is all aimed at Dean, over Sammy's shoulder with an accompanying glare. When the kid turns back to Cas, his tone is modulated with respect. "I am sorry, Cas." Sammy says, and he does sound sorry. "Really. I shouldn't have called you a hypocrite. You're right. It was disrespectful. But, uh, please don't take this the wrong way…..." Dean gets a bad feeling that Cas really isn't going to like whatever the kid's about to say. "But uh, are you forgetting that I know that you guys get high out in the garage?" Shit. Dean had forgotten about this. "And, I mean, you guys do that a lot, sometimes two or three times a week, and on weeknights. And, I don't know how much you guys use or anything, but there were times when I'd look out my bedroom window and Dean would be so out of it that you had to practically drag him across the yard back to the house." Sammy sounds hesitant now, like he doesn't want to piss Cas off again, but realizes he probably will anyway. "Why is that ok for you guys, but it's a big deal if I have one gummy on the weekend?" Sammy pauses, then adds. "And, please don't say it's because I'm younger and my brain isn't fully developed yet so drugs will mess me up more. That might be true for you, Cas, but Dean was only twenty-one when we moved in and we learned in psych that the brain isn't fully developed until around twenty-five, so…..."
No one speaks for a moment. Dean isn't sure what to do. If things were better between him and Cas, he might be able to laugh at this and enjoy how embarrassed Sammy would likely get at learning the truth of what they did in the garage, but Dean waits for Cas to speak because he doesn't want to risk saying the wrong thing and having Cas feel like he's betrayed him. Cas turns back toward him, his eyes seeking permission. Dean gives him a small what-are-you-gonna-do smile and shrugs, then watches Cas turn back toward Sammy.
"Samuel, I have never used drugs in my life. And, I don't want to speak for Dean, but I believe he hasn't used drugs in all the time I've known him. Is that correct, Dean?" Cas turns back over his shoulder toward Dean looking for confirmation.
"Yeah." Dean says. "I haven't gotten high since I was a teenager, and even then I only did it a few times."
"Dean and I let you believe that you were correct in your assumption that we were getting high in the garage because it felt less… awkward than telling you the truth, but I can see now that we made a mistake." Cas's voice is calm and even, and Dean is impressed, not for the first time, by the man's ability to remain serious in the face of very embarrassing conversations. "We have never gotten high in the garage, Samuel. We were merely using the backseat of the Impala as a place to have…...particularly loud and enthusiastic intercourse." Dean's lip starts to twitch into a smile as he watches Sam lift a palm to his forehead in discomfort. "We didn't want you to overhear us in our bedroom because the last thing we wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home."
"Jeez, Cas! This is such an overshare!" Sammy says, and Dean laughs. "It's not funny, Dean. I ride in that car. It's a common area!"
"Oh, relax, Sammy." Dean is enjoying himself now. "You haven't been in the back seat of the Impala since before dad died. We always take Cas's car when all three of us go somewhere. Besides, we're always very careful to clean up after ourselves and wipe down the seats or, you know, the ceiling, or whatever needs wiping-"
"Gross, Dean! Stop! Seriously!" Sammy does sound freaked out, but he's laughing a little, too. Cas aims a warm smile over his shoulder at Dean, and Dean soaks it up, bonding over embarrassing their child.
Cas turns back toward Sammy. "We didn't mean to be gross." Dean smiles at Cas's stiff delivery of the word. "We just wanted you to understand that Dean and I are not hypocrites." Cas says. "And, that neither of us uses drugs or is ok with the idea of you using drugs. You are correct that Balthazar's overdose was not caused by pot. My brother died from a heroin overdose." The gravity of that awful sentence hits Dean and he hopes it's affecting Sammy, too. "And perhaps I'm biased because I lost someone I love to drugs, but I believe recreational drugs are inherently unsafe. I understand that I cannot make you live your life according to what I want for you, Samuel, but the idea of my son using drugs, of any kind, is a source of concern for me. I want you to know that."
Dean listens to Sammy sigh dramatically. "Ok. Fine. I get it." He says. "If it upsets you so much, I don't need to use pot, like ever again. I barely use it now. I really wasn't thinking about what happened to your brother. I get how much that sucked for you, and I don't want you to worry about me, even though I've only ever used pot and pot doesn't kill people. But, it really doesn't matter to me. It's not a big deal either way. It doesn't even do that much for me. None of my friends are going to care if I stop doing it. So, I will, ok?"
Dean watches Cas smile fondly in profile as he turns toward Sammy. "Thank you, Samuel. I appreciate that."
"Jeez…." Sammy mutters, but there's no real heat in it, only amusement and playful attitude. "Now, can we please talk about something else? Because seriously guys, this conversation has been punishment enough to make me avoid drugs for the rest of my life."
"Certainly, Sam." Cas says. They're all quiet for a moment, Dean smirking quietly to himself, before Cas brings the subject back to Keisha. "Have you considered getting involved with one of the service organizations that Keisha is a part of? That might be a good way to get to know her better while also helping out in your community and meeting other service-minded students."
"Yeah." Sam says, sounding distracted. "I knew you'd say that. And, I have thought about it. I've just been kind of slammed with school and my job and everything. Maybe next semester when I'm feeling more settled in."
"Just think, Sammy." Dean says, feigning helpful enthusiasm. "Now you'll have all that free time that you used to spend getting stoned to use on community service instead."
Cas and Sammy both turn back, aiming matching frowns and playfully narrowed eyes at him, and it feels so normal and amazing. He gives them his best shit-eating grin. "What? I'm helping."
They turn back around and Sammy idly kicks at a rock on the trail in front of him as he walks, sending it skittering into the trailside brush. "Just so you two know, I'm never getting in the Impala again."
Dean winds up and playfully smacks his brother on the seat of his running pants, eliciting a surprised yelp from the boy. "Oh, get over it, kiddo! There are worse things than having parents who get it on in the garage." Sure, like having parents who split up, Dean's mind helpfully supplies. He realizes what he has said too late, and feels a pang of grief as he watches Cas's shoulders tense up and Sammy turn toward him with a sad, worried look in his eyes. Dean feels the grin falter on his face at having killed the playful mood and dropped his family back into the reality of their uncertain future.
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Castiel doesn't realize it's happening until it's too late. They are wrapping up their hike, walking back down the trail, laughing at a story that Sam is telling about his roommate. Castiel is enjoying himself and feeling relieved that the mood of their hike hadn't been damaged by his reaction to hearing about Sam's drug use, having been unsure after the exchange if he had been too stern in reprimanding his now adult child, when he steps on an area of loose sand on a steep portion of the trail. He feels a sharp pain in his ankle as it twists beneath him as he tries to maintain balance, then a split-second of panic at the loss of control as his legs fly out from under him and he lands hard on his ass.
"Are you all right, Cas?" Castiel looks up to Sam's concerned face, as the boy bends over him, his hands resting on his knees. Castiel knows he has a stronger response to being startled than most and he feels his heart beating racing in his chest at the shock of having fallen.
"Hey, Cas, if you needed to take a break, you could have just said so." He feels a comforting hand squeeze his shoulder from behind, and he fights the instinct to reach up to cover Dean's hand with his own, not allowing himself to seek comfort there. He knows that breaks like the one between him and Dean are best made clean. He realizes he muddied the waters for Dean by consoling him when he cried last night, but he doesn't want to make anything harder for either of them going forward. He takes a moment to assess how he feels before responding to his son. He feels a slight pain running through his left ankle and his ass hurts from the jarring landing. His heart rate is returning to normal as his body catches up to the fact that he's safe and any potential danger has been averted.
"I'm ok. Thank you. I'm just a little….startled." He gives the boy a sheepish smile as Dean's other hand lands on his other shoulder, both hands massaging the muscles that Castiel hadn't realized had tensed. Sam's worry shifts into a small, relieved smile and he extends a hand to help Castiel up. He feels Dean release his shoulders with a light pat on the back and he takes Sam's hand and allows the boy to pull him up. As soon as he sets his left foot down and bears weight on it, a sharp pain shoots through his ankle and he gasps and raises his foot off the ground.
He feels Dean's hands on his back, steadying him. "It hurts pretty bad when you stand on it?" Castiel feels something constrict in his chest at the concern in Dean's voice.
Castiel nods. "Yes. A little. I'll be fine." Castiel sets his foot down again and feels himself wince at the pain.
"Cas, come on, man." Dean says. "Let's take a seat on that rock and see what we're dealing with here." Before Castiel can attempt to move on his own, Dean is on his left, tucked under his arm against his side, supporting his weight and guiding him to a large rock just off the trail. Castiel feels himself tense at the contact as he hobbles a few steps next to Dean and perches himself on the edge of the rock Dean indicated.
Castiel watches Dean crouch down in front of him, Sam hovering behind his brother, his brow furrowed with worry. Dean reaches for Castiel's ankle and Castiel feels himself pull his leg away without thinking.
Dean looks up, his expression open, one eyebrow quirked innocently in question, as if he's having difficulty wrapping his mind around Castiel's response to his touch and Castiel feels a flicker of anger at himself for jerking away when Dean only wants to examine his injury and at Dean for acting like everything is normal between them.
"I'm fine, Dean." Castiel tells him. "I just need a moment."
"Take all the time you need, Cas." Sam tells him. "There's no rush."
"We can sit here for as long as you need." Dean tells him. "But, I think I should take a look and check things out while we wait. Are you ok with that?"
Dean's tone is focused and soothing and Castiel feels like he's getting a glimpse into how Dean behaves with injured people in his capacity as a firefighter. If things were different between them, Castiel might have teased Dean about his bedside manner, or even felt proud to see the competent professional that Dean has become. But right now, he just resents the kind, professional manner with which Dean is treating him, as if Dean thinks the hurtful things he said not even two weeks ago aren't running through Castiel's head on a constant loop, reinforcing the position of the nasty inner voices left over from his childhood, that Cas isn't good enough or is somehow defective.
Castiel shakes his head. "That's not necessary, Dean. I'm fine. I'll be ready to go in a minute." Castiel leans down and gingerly touches his ankle through his sweatpants to check for tenderness and swelling.
"C'mon, Cas. I know a thing or two about first aid. It'll just take a sec." Dean reaches forward and starts to pull up Castiel's pant leg.
"I said I'm fine, Dean." Without thinking, Castiel slaps Dean's hand away hard enough that the sound of his palm connecting with the back of Dean's hand rings out sharply in the quiet hillside. As the realization of what he's done hits Castiel, he feels a wave of shame at his behavior. He raises his eyes slowly to meet Dean's, and takes in Sam standing behind his brother, both their eyes wide with surprise. Dean sighs and lowers his gaze to the dirt at Castiel's feet. Castiel swallows. "I am very sorry, Dean. I don't know why I did that. I shouldn't have done that."
Dean looks back up at Castiel with a small, warm smile and kind eyes. "No worries, Cas. It's forgotten." Dean keeps his eyes on Castiel's as he motions toward the injured ankle again, his hand stopping a few inches from contact. "Is this ok?" Castiel listens to Dean repeat the same question back to him that he had asked Dean last night, and he nods his permission. Castiel watches Dean carefully roll up his pant leg and feel gently around his ankle with both hands. "Tell me if anything hurts, ok?" Castiel finds himself nodding obediently. Dean moves his hands around Castiel's ankle and Castiel's few small gasps let Dean know which areas are painful. Dean finishes his exam and gently rolls the leg of Castiel's pants back down, patting his knee softly. "Your ankle's pretty swollen, Cas. You probably sprained it, maybe stretched or tore a ligament. We can ice it and wrap it when we get home, but for now you should stay off it as much as you can. You ready to stand up?"
Castiel nods soberly. "Yes, Dean. Thank you." He lets Dean help him to his feet and grimaces in pain as he sets his left foot on the ground. "We aren't too far from the bottom of the hill. I will rest my leg as soon as we get to the car. Perhaps one of you can drive us home."
"Yeah, of course, Cas." Sam says. "Whatever you need."
"Thank you." Castiel forces his foot down despite the pain, taking deep breaths to help him cope. "I may need to move slowly at first." He starts to walk, flexing and extending his ankle, assessing the range of motion limitations caused by his injury and flinching with every new burst of pain. The hurt is significant, but manageable. He has dealt with worse in his life.
"All right, no." Dean says, and Castiel looks at him in confusion. "This isn't going to work. How about I piggyback you the rest of the way down?"
Castiel scoffs and hears Sam huff out a soft laugh. "That's a very thoughtful offer, but I'll manage on my own, thank you."
"That isn't a good idea if you're already in this much pain. And, if you did tear a ligament, walking on it is only going to make it worse." Dean explains.
"It isn't that painful." Castiel knows it's foolish, but he feels uncomfortable at being the center of attention for creating a burden. His mind flashes back to old childhood hurts, when he had been spoken to harshly or physically punished by his parents for complaining when he hurt himself or when he was sick and had become an inconvenience. He still has the clear memory of his parents telling him that any hurt or pain he experienced was punishment from God for his bad behavior or mean thoughts, and was often accompanied by punishment from his parents as well, to really drive home the lesson. Castiel gets the familiar feeling of wanting to pull into himself and hide while vulnerable, and he feels an overwhelming rush of pure defeat at the reminder that he isn't normal, not really, and that Dean wasn't the first man and likely won't be the last, to leave him in order to pursue a 'normal life.' He feels a spike of panic at the idea of being alone again. He's grateful that this time he has Sam, but he wonders how much of the boy's time he'll get when Sam needs to choose between seeing Castiel or Dean when he's home from school.
"Yeah, it is. I can see it all over your face when you put pressure on it." Dean says.
Castiel frowns at him. "I'll be fine. I assure you that I have successfully tolerated far worse physical pain in my life." Castiel takes another step, gasping audibly as a particularly bad pain shoots up his ankle.
"Yeah, not on my watch, you haven't." Dean puts a hand on Castiel's arm to keep him from moving. Castiel has barely looked down at Dean's hand before it's removed and Dean is standing in front of him, bent slightly at the knees and waist, his hands on his thighs bracing him, looking expectantly back over his shoulder at Castiel. "C'mon, Cas. Hop on."
Castiel sighs in annoyance. "Dean, that isn't necessary. I can still walk."
Dean grins at him, remaining bent over, and the traitorous thought pops into Castiel's mind that Dean's ass looks very good in that position in his nylon running pants. "C'mon, humor me, tough guy."
"Dean gives really good piggy back rides, Cas." Castiel looks toward his son to see Sam smiling encouragingly at him. "I think you should let him carry you."
"See?" Dean says. "I've got references and everything. What more do you want?"
The boy reaches out a hand toward him. "I'll carry your water bottle so you can hold on."
Castiel lets Sam take the bottle from his hand, feeling uncomfortable and uncertain. No one's ever given him a piggyback ride before and his mind immediately goes to messing it up somehow, and he's not sure his fragile emotional state can handle that humiliation on top of everything he's already going through with Dean.
"C'mon, Cas." Dean teases. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder and carry your ass down the mountain like that." When Castiel doesn't speak or move, Dean's expression becomes more serious. "You're hurt, Cas. Can you please just let me help you?"
Castiel nods. "All right. Thank you, Dean." He steps forward behind Dean, feeling shy and not entirely sure how to proceed. He sets his hands tentatively on Dean's shoulders and awkwardly starts to raise his bad leg to wrap around Dean's hip. Dean immediately encircles his thigh with his arm, his hand resting warm against Castiel's leg, cradling the underside of his knee.
"Ok, put your arms around my neck, lean on my back and then give me the other leg." Castiel gets the same feeling of love and security that he always gets when Dean takes Castiel's lack of experience with something basic in stride, never judging him for not knowing how to do something that most people learn during childhood. Like the time Dean had taught Castiel how to bowl, or blow a bubble with chewing gum, or all the times Dean had patiently explained the rules of basketball to Castiel so that he could better understand Sam's games. Castiel obediently follows Dean's directions and finds himself comfortably supported against Dean's back, his arms draped around Dean's neck in a loose hug, careful to not cling too tightly. Dean stands up easily under the extra weight and Castiel feels himself bounce slightly at the motion. "All right. Isn't this better, Cas?"
Castiel has to admit it is.
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Dean is in the kitchen putting together sandwiches for lunch and trying his best to stay present in the moment and not let his mind get caught up in panicking over his situation with Cas. He had piggy backed Cas down the rest of the mountain and driven home with Cas in the passenger seat. He smiles as he pictures the expression of disgusted suspicion on his little brother's face as they had approached Cas's car. Is the backseat of Cas's car still safe, or have you guys defiled that, too? Dean had heard Cas laugh softly on his back, as he had crouched to let Cas down as gently as possible. Huh. Not sure, Sammy. How many blow jobs does it take for a backseat to be considered defiled? Sammy had sighed dramatically as he climbed into the backseat. They had planned on a Target run on the way home from the hike to stock Sammy up with snacks and toiletries to take back to school, but they had gone straight home instead, over Cas's protests that he was fine, and had gotten Cas set up on the couch. Dean had sat on the coffee table with Cas's foot in his lap, holding it gently as he removed the sock, rolled up the pant leg, and carefully wrapped Cas's ankle and instep with an ace bandage. When the ankle was properly wrapped and there was no more excuse to linger there, tenderly holding Cas's bare foot, Dean had propped the injured foot up on two pillows on the coffee table, missing the contact immediately as he left the room to retrieve an ice pack, a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water.
Once Cas was comfortably settled and his injury seen to, Dean had headed into the kitchen to make lunch. Sammy had come in a few minutes later to grab himself a water, leaning a hip against the edge of the counter as he took a sip.
"You need any help, Dean?" Sammy asks.
Dean quickly slices through a head of lettuce, making a salad to go with the turkey sandwiches he's going to make.
"No thanks, I got this, kiddo." Dean smiles at him and gestures toward the living room with the end of his knife. "Why don't you go give Cas a cuddle. He's had a pretty rough day."
Sam's expression grows serious, and when he speaks his voice is hesitant. "I can finish making lunch if you want to go cuddle him yourself…...and, maybe talk to him."
"Thanks, but I really think he'd rather hang out with you right now." Dean takes in the small frown and sad eyes his brother is aiming at him, and sighs. "It's all right, Sammy. Don't worry, ok?"
Sam nods, but Dean can tell he's humoring him. "Ok, Dean." Sam turns to leave the kitchen.
"Hey." Dean says, watching his brother turn around to face him with a curious expression. "Cas was pretty hard on you about the whole pot thing. I just wanted to check in and make sure you're all right."
Sam grins in amusement and it makes Dean feel ridiculous for even asking. But, he remembers what it was like to get yelled at by his dad and not have anyone to vent to. Not that Cas had actually yelled. He never does.
"I'm fine, Dean." Sam smirks. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Cas is always at least a little hard on me. It's his thing. I don't mind it anymore. It hasn't bothered me in years."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean had thought that the way Cas treats Sammy might rankle his brother more the older the kid got. He thinks about his own contributions of telling Sammy to watch himself and to apologize to Cas and he wonders if he had overstepped since his brother is an actual adult now. Kind of. A young, clueless, financially helpless adult, but still an adult, Dean supposes.
"Yeah. I mean, I know he just gets on me like that because he loves me and doesn't want me to get away with acting like a shithead." Sam says. "I shouldn't have called him a hypocrite. I was out of line. He doesn't call me names, so I shouldn't do it to him either. I knew I was in for it as soon as I said that." Sam shrugs. "So, it's not like I didn't know I deserved it. And, it's not like he smacks me around or even yells at me or anything." Dean wonders if Sam is thinking about their dad. He watches his little brother huff out a fond laugh. "He just goes all stern-face on me and calls me Samuel a few times." Sammy's voice goes deep and gravelly as he says his name, and the impersonation brings a smile to Dean's lips.
"Huh." Dean had stopped his salad prep to listen to his brother and he stands next to the counter staring at the kid, pleasantly surprised. "I'm really glad to hear you saying that, Sammy, that you appreciate Cas like that. I remember a time when you would get completely bent out of shape whenever he tried to tell you what to do."
Sammy nods. "Yeah, I remember that, too. But, that was a long time ago. I get it now that it was probably kind of good for me to have Cas be as strict as he was." Sam scoffs lightly. "Or is, I guess I should say." Dean watches his brother pause to collect his thoughts. "I mean, you were my brother for fifteen years before you had to be my parent. And, yeah, you did parent stuff for me before dad died and everything, but it wasn't the same. You let me get away with pretty much everything. The only times I can really remember you getting on me were when I made fun of Cas behind his back, or disrespected him. But, you let me get away with saying some really shitty stuff to you, Dean. And, I think it's good that Cas didn't let me get away with that, or with anything, really. Sometimes I think of it like, you guys are both my parents, technically, but you're still kind of my brother, too, and Cas is more like my dad."
Dean isn't sure what his brother sees on his face when the boy frowns. "But, those are both good things, Dean." Sam says. "I like having both of you the way you are."
"It's ok, Sammy. I get it." Dean watches his brother's expression relax. "I like that you have Cas to keep you in line, too." Dean smirks. "It takes the pressure off me having to kick your ass when you need it." He means it as a joke, but he knows it's true, deep down, that Cas being Sammy's primary disciplinarian during the kid's teenage years did take a huge load off Dean's shoulders. He's pretty sure Sammy knows it's true, too.
Sammy laughs. "Yeah, that's what I mean. You guys balance each other out. Cas gets on me about stuff, and you check to make sure I'm ok after. It works."
"So, what, I'm good cop and Cas is bad cop?"
Sammy smirks. "Kind of, but I think of it more like Cas is my dad and you're my mom."
Dean huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, all right, funny guy." Dean picks up the lettuce and starts tearing the leaves off and throwing them into a bowl. "How about you go keep Cas company now? See if he needs anything."
"Ok, I'm going." Sam walks out of the kitchen and into the living room.
When Dean lifts his head from his task at the counter a few minutes later and looks into the living room, he can see Cas's head leaning back against the couch cushion, one arm draped across the back of the couch, and Sammy, taking Dean's directive to heart, snuggled up against Cas, tucked backwards against Cas's side under the man's arm, his body stretched out in a lazy recline with his feet extending out over the arm of the couch. Dean can't make out what the kid's saying, but the energetic bobbing of Sammy's head, along with his animated hand movements, shows Dean that the kid is telling Cas a story, one Sammy believes is particularly hilarious. Dean feels his heart clench with grief as the thought rises unbidden in his mind, that this might be one of the last times he gets to watch Cas and Sammy together like this, comfortably sharing physical space and loving on each other. He had thought he had a whole lifetime ahead of him with both of them, but now his family might be back to being just him and Sammy. He tries not to let himself think about what Sammy's future visits home would look like, with his brother having to split his time between Cas's house and whatever apartment Dean ends up renting. How this will end up hurting Sammy as much as it's already hurting Dean.
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They spend the afternoon hanging out in the living room, Cas and Sam on the couch and Dean in the armchair. They eat lunch on the coffee table, play a few hands of poker and then a game of Scrabble, and the whole thing brings Dean back to all the time spent in random hotel rooms and shitty apartments, when Dean had to entertainment his little brother in a small space with very little in the way of resources. It hadn't mattered then, because hanging out with Sammy had always been Dean's favorite way to kill an afternoon, and he feels the same today, that he'll take being anchored to the couch on a beautiful day if it means getting to spend time with his two favorite people.
The day has been more enjoyable than Dean expected. Things between him and Cas had been polite enough during the hike, after being slightly tense during breakfast, but since Cas sprained his ankle and Dean got to carry him down the mountain, he has started to feel Cas warming toward him. And, it gives him hope.
"You know." Cas says as they finish their Scrabble game. "If you two want to go outside and play basketball, or go out and do something else, you can. I don't want you to feel that you need to stay in because of me if there's something else you'd rather do."
Dean watches his brother pick up the letter tiles and put the Scrabble board back in its box. He'll do whatever Sammy wants, but he doesn't want what they're doing to end. He doesn't want anything to end his time with his family and break the spell that seems to be making this time with Cas feel normal and easy again.
Sammy looks up with a shrug. "I'm doing what I came to do, hanging out with you guys. I don't care where we do it or what we do. I just want to be with you guys this weekend." Dean feels himself smile at his brother. He can hear Cas's voice in his head, Sam is a very good boy, and he has to agree.
They end up heading outside before it gets dark. Dean and Sam play a few games of horse, while Cas sits sideways on the back steps with a book and a cup of tea, his injured ankle and foot carefully propped up by Dean, who insists on rolling up an old towel to support the ankle and keep it off the hard wooden step. Cas spends more time watching them play than reading, and they stay outside until it becomes difficult to make out the hoop in the dark. They make dinner together, with Cas handling the chopping jobs that he can manage while sitting at the kitchen table, his left foot elevated on another chair as he works. The atmosphere is easy and companionable and the conversation flows effortlessly among all three of them.
Dean is microwaving popcorn in the kitchen while Cas and Sammy find a movie to watch that evening. When he enters the living room, popcorn bowl in one hand, napkins in the other, the first thing he notices is that Sammy, who had shared the couch or sat on the floor during all the Scrabble and poker, is now occupying the armchair, slouched low in the chair with his crossed legs stretched out to the side, feet taking up half of the couch cushion closest to the chair, leaving Dean the middle spot on the couch, right next to Cas, who has his injured ankle propped up on the coffee table. Dean makes eye contact with his brother, expecting to see a smirk or playful challenge in his eyes, but instead seeing traces of uncertainty and hope that remind Dean of when the kid was much younger and still naive enough to hope their dad would come to a basketball game or be there for his birthday. It cuts Dean, but he gets it. Sammy's family has been broken so many times already, and the kid wants the only family he has left to remain an actual, intact family. Dean gets it. He feels it, too.
"My feet aren't in your way, are they, Dean?" The kid is aiming for innocent nonchalance, but Dean isn't fooled. Sammy's too smart to not know what he's doing.
"Nope, you're fine, Sammy." Dean sneaks a glance at Cas as he walks around the coffee table to take his place on the couch, lightly patting the top of his brother's feet as he passes them. Cas's expression is blank and the man keeps his face angled straight ahead, toward the television, as Dean sits down only a few inches away, shifting awkwardly to get comfortable with his hands full.
Sammy leans over and grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Dean's hands. "I figure you always end up passed out in Cas's lap when we watch a movie, anyway." Dean shoots another glance at his brother. The kid's expression is harder to read because he's shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth, but Dean notes a trace of mischief in his eyes and gives the kid his best stern look in an attempt to squash any further 'help' from his little brother.
"Thanks for that, Sammy." Dean looks toward the television, paused on a black screen. "So, what are we watching, fellas?"
It ends up being some subtitled Japanese film that one of Sam's professors recommended. Dean is out cold about twenty minutes in. He comes to about an hour and a half later, instrumental music playing through the post-nap fog in his head as credits roll on the television. He feels something hard under his right temple and it takes him a moment to realize his head is resting on Cas's shoulder. And another to realize that Cas's left hand is casually cupping the inside of his right thigh, emanating warmth Dean can feel through his jeans. Dean has woken up like this many times before. Sammy's right. He doesn't usually make it through movies on the couch and is much more likely to end up asleep, with some part of him laying on some part of Cas. So his head resting on Cas's shoulder doesn't surprise him now, but the hand on his thigh does. It feels like more than just a show for Sammy's sake. He feels a swell of lightness and hope in his belly, but tries not to let himself get carried away. He knows he needs to manage his expectations better than he did after Cas cuddled him last night. He feels Cas shift beneath him, and feels dampness on the side of his face as it brushes against Cas's shoulder and he realizes with embarrassment that he's been drooling. He lifts his head up and wipes at the side of his face with the back of his hand.
"Uh, sorry, Cas. I think I drooled on you a little." Dean says, keeping his eyes forward, unable to look at Cas and risk not seeing the familiar love and tenderness he so badly wants to see in the man's eyes.
He feels a light pat on his thigh. "It's fine, sweetheart." His heart soars at the endearment, even as Cas removes his hand. He still can't bring himself to look at Cas, so he turns toward his brother and takes in the pleased smirk on the kid's face. Dean can't help smiling back at him.
"So, what did you guys think?" Sammy asks. "And, no offense, Dean, but I'm really just asking Cas, since you were snoring like a jackhammer through most of it."
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Dean feels more comfortable tonight than last night as he towels off his hair in the bathroom after his shower. Today had gone much better than he knew he had any right to expect. Not only had Cas not said anything to Sammy about the possibility of them splitting up, but Dean felt like he and Cas had experienced several moments of genuine connection and affection. He could feel vibes of forgiveness and acceptance coming off Cas and it made him feel more hopeful and less panicked than he had since he had walked out the door almost two weeks ago. Dean starts to open the bathroom door, one hand still rubbing the towel against his head, then realizes they might not be at a place where that's ok, and wraps the towel around his waist.
Dean finds Cas, freshly showered and in his pajama pants and tee shirt, lying on his back in bed with the covers pulled up to his waist. Dean can't read the look Cas is giving him and he worries that Cas might not feel that even partial nudity is appropriate.
"Sorry." Dean tells him, just in case his lack of clothing has offended Cas. "I forgot to bring my pajamas in with me." Dean crosses quickly to the bed, grabbing the pajamas and top he had worn last night, with the intention of hurrying back into the bathroom to get dressed.
"It's fine, Dean." Cas tells him, his tone neutral. "I've seen you naked many times before." The comment pulls a comforting memory to the surface, of playing with Cas in bed, his boyfriend leaning over him with thermometer in hand, stroking his hair, I have seen your bottom many times before and will surely see it again. But, I want you to be comfortable, little one, so we will move at your pace. The distance between where they were then and where they are now strikes Dean, but he feels encouraged that Cas's sentiment remains the same.
"Dean, I would like to apologize for slapping you on the hike." The wording calls to mind Dean getting his face slapped, and it takes him a confused minute to realize that slapping him refers to Cas smacking his hands away when he had tried to touch his injured ankle. "It was wrong of me. I know you were only trying to help. We have never treated each other like that, and I do not wish for us to start now." Cas's expression is that of a child expecting to be chastised for his misbehavior and it goes straight to Dean's core, filling him with empathy for the man in front of him and the abused child he once was.
"It's ok, Cas." Dean gives him a smile that he hopes is infused with forgiveness and love. "I probably deserve worse." Cas frowns and Dean knows that he chose his words wrong, and that Cas would find any declaration that a person believes they deserve physical punishment to be problematic. "And, you really just tapped my hand. It's not like you slapped me across the face or anything."
Cas's eyes widen in alarm. "Dean, I would never-"
"I know, Cas." Dean assures him. "I know you wouldn't."
Dean drops the pajama pants back on the bed, shakes out the shirt and pulls it on over his head. "How are you feeling? Is your pain any better?"
Dean watches Cas look down toward his lap, giving Dean privacy as he pulls on his pajama pants under his towel.
"The pain in my ankle is less than it was earlier." Cas tilts his head as if considering, and Dean finds it adorable. Dean tosses his towel in the hamper and watches Cas's gaze find him now that he's fully dressed. "My ass is still a little sore from landing on it."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean crawls onto the bed on his hands and knees, a teasing smile on his face, going for a mix of playful and seductive. "Well, if you want to roll over and drop trou, I can check out your ass, you know, for first aid treatment purposes."
Cas levels a serious look at Dean, that stops him mid-crawl. "I appreciate your help with my injury today. Carrying me down the hill. Wrapping my ankle. You were very kind, and quite chivalrous." Cas pauses, and Dean feels a wave of ridiculousness that he's still on his hands and knees, but isn't sure what else to do. "You have always been very good to me, Dean. I know that."
"It was nothing, Cas." Dean hears the hoarseness in his own voice. "I would do anything for you." His voice cracks on anything and he feels a sense of foreboding at how precarious their situation is and how Cas could crush him with a few words of rejection.
Dean watches a small, sad smile form on Cas's face, and Dean feels something twist in his gut. Here it comes. Cas is going to let him down gently, tell him that they had a good day together, for Sammy's benefit, but that nothing has changed, and that they owe it to Sammy to tell him in person that they're splitting up before he heads back to school.
Cas slowly reaches out a hand and gently cups Dean's jaw, lightly stroking Dean's cheek with his thumb. Dean feels himself leaning into the touch. "We had a lovely day together, Dean, and I have an incredible amount of love for you. But, we still have much to discuss." Dean feels Cas's hand pull away from his face and move up to the side of his head, his fingers carding lightly through his hair. "I think we need to talk, just the two of us, after Sam goes back to school and you're off your next shift. What do you think, sweetheart, will you come back home after your shift and talk to me?"
Dean feels his heart swell at the word home. He nods. "Yes, Cas."
Cas's smile is pleased. "Thank you, Dean. For tonight, I think we should just get some rest." Dean watches a trace of playfulness come into Cas's eyes and he feels his spirits lift immensely. "I will worry about my own ass for now, but thank you for the offer of medical attention."
Dean lies down on his stomach, careful to not get so close that he's infringing on Cas's personal space, but not so far that it looks like he wants space of his own. He lays his head on the pillow, his face less than two feet from Cas's. He reaches a hand down to pull the covers over himself, but Cas beats him to it, pulling the covers up Dean's back and laying them down over his shoulders. Cas adjusts the covers over himself as well and lays his head back down, noticeably closer to the edge of his pillow. Dean takes in the small smile on the man's face and feels a happy giddiness rising in his belly even as tears well in his eyes. Cas lifts his head and leans forward to land a warm kiss on Dean's forehead.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."