I shouldn't be happy with this cheesy title, but what the hell, it made me smile. Hope you enjoy this little addition :)
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They were not in a good place. Once again, they disagreed on the course of action to be taken, and they had huffed and growled at each other to the point where they had silently agreed to leave the topic of the Big Bad alone and go on a vampire hunt instead.
The normally quiet, companiable car ride had been heavy and loaded, but it was still preferable to the echoing arguments in the bunker.
The nest is relatively small, five vampires holed up in an abandoned hunter's cabin. They find it two hours before sunset, plenty of time to sneak in and get the job done. The air is thick and metallic when they enter. They quickly close the door behind them to keep the enemy asleep.
But the nest is surprisingly careful, and when Dean slowly goes left and Castiel goes right, the room is suddenly filled with an ear-piercing alarm. The room is almost pitch black, windows and cracks thoroughly covered by black plastic bags. Still, they quickly sense the movement of enemies circling them.
Castiel has no issue with fighting in the dark. The vampires seem to realise this and sends three monsters on him and two on Dean. But fighting three enemies is still a challenge, even for an Angel. The task is not made easier by the sounds of battle from somewhere behind him, especially not the crash followed by a forceful exclamation from Dean.
The sound pulls at something in Castiel, and with a surge of grace he takes out one vampire with his left hand and decapitates another with the machete in his right. The third is stunned for a moment, surprised by the heavenly weapon, so he quickly decapitates it before its instinct to run can take over.
He quickly turns towards Dean. The hunter is caught between a couch and coffee table, a vampire trying to get at him from each end of the couch, flanking him to the spot. Even if he tries to step over the table or jump over the couch, the vampires are close enough to jump him when he lands. His posture is stiffer than normally, but he is swinging effectively, keeping both vampires at bay.
But he has to make a move to make progress, so Dean swings aggressively at one vampire to push it back and then steps towards the other vampire to decapitate it. Even though he succeeds in creating some space between himself and the first vampire, it still leaves his back open for an attack. Dean knows this, of course, but he is not the type to be caught in a stalemate for long. If he can take one down, maybe he can step over the dead body in time to get away from the attack coming from behind him.
Except he can't.
The vampire fights back before Dean can get the overhand and decapitate it, costing him precious seconds. To further his predicament, the dead vampire does not fall flat, but in a heap caught between the couch and the table, closing off the escape road. Dean tries to turn around to attack the last vampire coming at him, but the distance between them is too narrow and he can't get a proper swing.
Castiel steps up behind the vampire, swinging his own machete, separating head from body.
Dean lets his raised machete fall. His face and upper body are covered in fresh blood spatter. It draws nasty, red lines when he per reflex swipes a hand down his face, trying to remove just a bit of the sweat and grime.
Things are not good between them, so Dean's shoulders are still tense when he looks at the Angel, but at least he gives Castiel a small, thankful nod.
"Are you hurt?" It's a stupid question. Castiel could tell that the hunter is hurt from the moment he looked at Dean's stiff posture while he was fighting.
"I'm fine. Let's get outta here." It's a stupid answer. Dean winces when he pushes past Castiel and his right-side bumps into Castiel's elbow.
Castiel rolls his eyes but follows silently.
They set the cabin on fire, but it is barely visible in the rear-view mirror against the orange sunset. The drive is tense, no talking and no music.
Dean offers no explanation when he turns off the highway to make a stop at a Gas'n'Sip, but his intent is clear when he parks at the pump nearest to the toilet facilities. They both exit the car, and Dean looks around for any witnesses as he grabs his duffel from the back and hurries to the facilities. They have a long road ahead and getting caught covered in blood spatter is less than ideal, not to mention uncomfortable. Fortunately, Castiel does not need similar facilities to remove the evidence of their fight. He could have helped Dean as well, but… things are not good between them.
Castiel gets out as well, considering just stretching his legs for a moment, until his eye catches the counter in the shop. He quickly moves towards the shop.
When Dean comes out, his clothes are clean, and his face is freshly washed. He barely acknowledges Castiel and the bag he is now carrying, but just refills the car. It's not until he unlocks the driver's door that he looks Castiel in the eye and just asks; "Need anything else?"
"No." Dean nods at the answer. At least he still trusts Castiel enough not to check what he bought, but just gets behind the wheel.
They make it a good half-hundred miles before Dean sits uneasily in his seat. It starts with small ticks in the shoulders and legs, accompanied by a subtle twist in the corner of his mouth. It would be unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know him. But soon, even a complete stranger would be able to read the discomfort in his posture. His breathing seems shallower than normally, and he cannot find a comfortable position to sit in.
This is the point where Castiel decides to break the silence; "I bought pie."
Dean glances at him and can't hide the small smirk that spreads on his face. He soon pulls the car over to the curb. Castiel is already handing over the takeaway box and plastic fork when Dean reaches out for it. "Thanks, man."
It is nothing special, and certainly not freshly made, but Dean still treasures the treat as if it were, happily moaning around the first bite.
They just sit there, in the middle of nowhere on a quiet evening, looking at the darkening sky and ever stretching fields, while Dean consumes the sweet dessert.
When he is done, he hands the empty container back to Castiel, who puts it back in the bag. Dean even smiles as he readies himself to continue driving. But before he can turn the key, Castiel asks, almost in a whisper; "Will you let me heal you?"
Dean freezes in his movement. He doesn't seem surprised by Castiel having noticed his injury, but he didn't seem to expect the Angel to ask that question right now. Or maybe he is surprised that Castiel would bribe him with food before making his request. His face seems to go through multiple thoughts and emotions in just seconds, and Castiel can't decipher all of them.
For a moment Castiel thinks that Dean will just ignore him and turn on the engine, but then the hunter's hand falls away from the ignition. He looks down at his hands in his lap, grabbing at the rough denim fabric. "You don't have to, Cas. You should save your strength. It's not that bad."
"I can tell that you are uncomfortable." Castiel does not say 'in pain'. That would make Dean sound weak in his own corrupted ears. "And we still have a long drive back to the bunker."
Dean flexes his hands and looks out the side window, as if afraid someone is watching their exchange.
Castiel knows that this is not the case. The issue is that things are not good between them, and that Dean does not want to accept his help when things are not good. To the hunter, it feels like taking advantage of the Angel.
To Castiel, it feels like torture not to help where he can.
Finally, Dean sighs; "Alright."
Before he can change his mind, Castiel quickly puts two fingers to the hunter's forehead, and sends a surge of grace to his bruised ribs. After just a heartbeat, Dean takes a deep, relieved breath. And then another.
Castiel sits back, feeling lighter himself at seeing Dean breathing more easily.
"Thanks." Dean glances at the Angel, not completely turning his head to look at him, but his gratitude is still clear in his sad expression. Sad, because he gave in and accepted help. Sad that they are still in a bad place, even if he wishes they weren't. Sad that it can't be erased as easily as the physical bruising.
Castiel smiles back, a small sad smile as well.
They have been here before, so many times. Disagreeing on the best way to strike against their enemy. They are both stubborn and firmly believe that they know best. It always ends with yelling and curses that they both later regret.
And in that small moment of mutual sadness, they acknowledge that. They both know it, and they both hope that they will once again come through it, together.