"Cas, what are you doing up?" Castiel was sitting on the windowsill writing something as Dean stretched. Dean yawned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, scratching his head. One more yawn before he stood up, "Man my foot is asleep," he muttered, walking over to Cas. He leaned on the wall beside the window and looked over Cas' shoulder. A map of America rested in his hands, with a red sharpie line crossing over roads and cities. His thumb rested on the grand canyon, a small grin on his face.
"Whatcha got there, buddy?" Dean asked, hesitantly putting his hand on Cas' shoulder. Things had certaintly gotten better. Even though a tremor shook through him, he let Dean's hand remain there, even just for a few seconds. As suspected, Cas didn't answer, just kept staring at the map. Dean sighed, grabbing his clothes and heading for the bathroom.
When he stepped into the shower, he thought. He thought about the book they had read last night. He thought about the mustang and the wind. The west and men who drained it of color. Mostly though, he thought of Cas. Cas had seemed... different when they were reading it. His skin was hot, his mouth relaxed, and his normally fidgety hands just lightly twirled in his hair. The book, even just for a moment, made him be like Cas again.
"Dean, turn your alarm off. You are already 20 minutes late," Cas huffed and shook Dean.
Dean grumbled, "five more minutes," he rolled over and grabbed the pillow, pushing it against his face.
"No, now! You'll be late for work."
Dean reached his hands into the air. Cas thought he was finally getting up, when strong Winchester hands grabbed him and pulled him into their queen-sized bed. Cas landed on the mattress, Dean pulling him to his chest and sighing. Dean happily puckered out his lips as Cas gave them a little peck.
"Fine," Cas whispered, "five more minutes."
A bang. Quick, ceasing as soon as it started. Dean didn't even turn off the water as he ran out of the shower, wrapping the towel around himself.
Cas was on the floor, shaking. His breathing was quick and jagged, eyes wide, facing the carpeted floor. He had wrapped himself in his trenchcoat and buried his head against his own chest. Dean crouched beside him, "shh, it's okay Castiel, I'm right here," he soothed, knowing not to get too close. It never made anything better, even if that touch was just pure love. Sadly, this was a normal thing in their house. Again, things had gotten better, they used to be worse. Up to ten times a day Dean would have to kneel by Cas and whisper until the memories went away. Now the most per day was five, but it didn't make it any less painful to see the man he love in such a pain that made him cry. He could see the memories Cas was stuck in, or at least the ones he was there for. Just the restless, muffled screaming. He shook it off though. He needed to help Cas. He did what he did every panic attack.
"You've got a lot on your mind
I guess that's why I shouldn't know
Where it is while we're here killing time
In time we'll know where we want it to go."
He saw Cas start to calm a bit. It was their wedding song. The song where Cas had pressed his head to Dean's chest and sighed, whispering I love you until his tongue went numb. It was the song where Dean had kissed him for a solid ten seconds and only breathed when he saw the smile across Cas' face. And, it was the song where Dean had given Cas his trench coat, so that even when Dean wasn't there, Cas had something to hug at night.
"I've got a lot left to say
I guess that's why I shouldn't talk
If everything I think got away
Afraid you'd think I've been thinking too much."
It wasn't the singers voice, but it was Dean's voice. It was pure and love filled, and held some tears, but it always made the walls open up again.
"Will you love me or leave me or maybe even see
Something to believe in between me and you
You say just close your eyes but I'm looking at you
Every time that I do
Don't say just close your eyes 'cause I'm looking at you
Every time, I do"
Tears still brimmed Cas' eyes, his face still red and ears still hot. He sniffled though, and listened.
"We've got a lot to believe in
I don't think that's too much to say
Last night you fell asleep to the TV on my shoulder
As my whole world changed."
Dean knew Cas was really listening when he smiled at that line. When he was young, Dean picked that as his wedding song, hoping someday that scenario would happen with him. He waited until the day after Cas fell asleep on his shoulder to the tv on propose. It was one of those cute couple stories told at parties and restaurants. Cas always loved it though; the cheesy romantic side of Dean. It always made him grin
"Will you love me or leave me or maybe even see
Something to believe in between me and you
You say just close your eyes but I'm looking at you
Every time that I do
Don't say just close your eyes 'cause I'm looking at you
Every time, I do."
Dean stopped there, hoping that was enough to calm Cas down. Cas though, shuddered and frowned. Dean had to finish.
"The first year flew by, the second one too
With a fraction of time, I know just what to do
With the rest, call our friends, and they'll make much ado
Here they are, waiting to walk down the room
You say
Will you love me and keep me through every season
Through sickness and health, with you?
I say, come close and close your eyes now I see you
Every time that I do
So I'll repeat the lines, shut my eyes lean into
Now and forever, I do
Don't say just close your eyes 'cause I'm looking at you
Every time, I do."
And, for the first time since the panic attacks started, Cas leaned back. Just slightly, just for a minute, but it happened. His back brushed Dean's chest, his eyes closed, and his breathing slowed.
Just as quickly as it happened, Cas jolted up and stared at the ground again, eyes once more fixated on nothing. Dean sighed, holding back the joyus scream he wanted to release into the world. Cas picked up the map again and traced the red line again. Dean sighed and stood up.
He changed into clothes in the bathroom and walked back out. Cas hadn't moved, just sat there, rocking back and forth to a beat only he could hear. At least he wasn't wailing anymore, which was something positive. His mind probably was though, louder than anything Dean could imagine. Dean checked his watch. He could still get to work on time. He hated leaving Cas like this, but they were barely making a living with Cas not having a job. Dean needed to work.
He didn't touch Cas, just sighed and waved, "see ya later, angel." With that, the door was closed, and Cas was left by himself.
When Dean walked outside, he breathed. He smelled the humid summer air and heard the repeating calls of birds. Their suburban house was small compared to the others, but Cas loved nature, so they had agreed to live there. Dean suspected that during the day Cas would take hikes through the woods behind their house. To be honest, he feared for Cas' safety, as he didn't know when he would just break down and fall. He couldn't do much about it though; if it made Cas happy, that's what he would do.
Dean's black '67 Chevy Impala was given to him by his father right before he passed away. It was difficult when his father left. The doctors say it was an accidental overdose on his anti- depressants, but Dean suspected more. Accidents don't happen accidentaly. Ever since their mother had died, their father, Jhon, hadn't been the same. He was mean and constantly drunk, always cursing out Dean and his brother Sam for things beyond their control. Dean felt good for Sam. Sam never really knew his mom, so the gut-wrenching heartache never changed him. In some ways though, many ways in fact, Sam's life after their mom's death was changed. Sam never really had the experience of a father, just a man who gave him a roof. It was Dean who bathed and clothed him. Who read him bedtime stories and slept beside him on stormy nights. It was also Dean who gave Sam halloween, Sam's favorite holiday.
"Dean all the kids in my class are dressing up for some holiday called Halloween. Can we dress up? Maybe dad will dress up too. We could be like some trio or something. Wouldn't that be cool, Dean?"
Sam was rambling to Dean at the breakfast table. He always had something to say. Dean read through the news papers for any odd story. He liked writing stories elaborating on the strange occurences of everyday life, and what was stranger than real life?
"Dean!" Sam yelled, "listen to me. I want to do Halloween."
Dean put the paper down, keeping his finger on the page he was on, "Sam, dad won't want to do halloween with us. He has work to do."
Sam shrugged, "that's okay. Maybe we could be someone from Star Wars, or monsters! What if we were monsters, Dean!? I call being a werewolf." Sam then howled and laughed.
Dean smiled, "Well, you know what's cooler than monsters?" Dean asked.
Sam awaited the answer with wide eyes.
"The people who hunt them."
"People hunt monsters?"
Dean grinned, "Hell yeah they do. Demons and ghosts and wendigos. All the stuff that goes bump in the night."
Sam's face lit up, "I want to hunt monsters! Wow Halloween is awesome!" He looked at Dean, "My friends get theirs made already from these bags from the party store. Can we get ours from the party store?"
Dean quietly sighed, his heart begining to hurt, "Sam, we don't have the money right now to buy that. The best costumes though, are the ones you make all by yourself."
Sam frowned a bit, "You promise they're better?"
"I swear on Def Leopard," Dean smirked as Sam jumped up.
"okay, okay," Dean laughed, "Let's go check out Dad's flannel."
They had been hunters every year since, and every year was just as fun. Sometimes, it was just them giving each other candy, but nonetheless the holiday was always the highlight of their year.
Dean was driving now, the open suburb road winding up and down hills no one cared to flatten. Dean's brewery wasn't far from his house, but he kept the Impala at almost maximum speed. He would see Sam today, as he was visiting from his home in Kansas. Sam lived with his roommate Gabriel, who happened to be the brother of Castiel. It was something they all suspected was meant to be. While Sam currently identified as straight, Dean knew there was conflict within his brother, but there were bigger problems to worry about.
Winchester Brewery. A real original name. It was suprisingly popular among the community members though, and even the people with a solid family and a stable job came often. It had a hapiness to it, a trait Dean had felt when he first bought the property. He was a little late he realized, but his workers were already serving the very few people who were there. He saw some of the usuals, a tough yet stubborn man named Rufus, 'the hippy who was born in the wrong era', Ash, and of course, his super tall brother with the lush brown hair that must be stuffed with conditioner.
Dean jumped behind the counter, catching Sam by suprise, "Can I get you anything, my good sir?" Dean bowed his head. Sam laughed, "Hey Dean," Sam grabbed Dean's hand and hugged him over the wood counter, "just a homemade Winchester beer," Sam requested after sitting down.
"Nice choice."
Dean slid over to the fridge they restocked each morning. He grabbed the green labeled bottle, popped the lid open and handed it to Sam. Sam nodded and took a sip, "so hows Castiel?" he asked, placing the bottle down.
Dean sighed, "another panic attack this morning. Luckily though he seems to really enjoy the book I got him yesterday."
"Thats good,"Sam agreed.
"Hows Gabe?" Dean leaned on the counter.
"Well, hes Gabe. Out every night, comes back drunk at 2a.m. The usual."
"Yup", Dean laughed a bit, "some people dont change."
Sam's cheeriness dipped a bit, "It gets kind of lonely though. I guess I was always used to just you and me against the world, you know? Gabe's kind of closed off, which is fine, he's his own person, but I just wish we could talk a bit more," he paused, "sorry. You have bigger issues to worry about. But thats good to hear that Cas found a good book."
There was silence for a moment before Dean spoke, "Well, if you're really feeling lonely, the couch opens up to a bed in the living room."
Sam smiled, "I like being with Gabe though. I really want to get to know him better. How'd you meet Cas again?"
"Thats a story, Sam. You sure you want me to get into that?"
Sam looked around the brewery for a brief moment, "what else is there to do right now?"
Dean sighed, "Fine. Well it was the halloween you werent there-"
"You mean the one when I was sick?"
"Yes, I was still a hunter, just without my daring partner. He was dressed as an angel. Pretty much there was one piece of candy left at a house and we had a virtual battle for it. We both loved the others creativity with costumes and homemade props. Plus both of our childlike nature just made us feel close. We traded numbers that night after I invited him for a horror movie marathon at my house. The rest is history, Sammy."
"So you weren't roommates who never talked," Sam stated
"No."
It was an awkward silence, something the two brothers barely ever had.
"Dean," Dean heard his name from the other side of the bar. Ash waved, pointing at his empty shot glass. Dean gave him a thumbs up.
"Just wait a second, Sammy," he patted the counter and walked over, "How was it, Ash?"
Ash laughed, "Finest I've had, Winchester, as always."
Dean nodded with a smile. He filled the glass, placed the bottle back, and whisteled with his eyes closed back to where Sam was. When he got there though, $5 sat on the table with a note on a napkin.
Sorry. Just needed to think. At the Dalphin Hotel a few miles away. Room 1408.
Dean sighed. His brother really needed someone. He needed someone who would care for him. He wanted to always be there for Sam, to help him figure out who he was and how to live a good life, but the physical safety of his husband was much more of a threat than Sam's jumbled sexuality. He had a small idea, but it would have to wait.
The day dragged on with people coming in and out, buying six-packs or bottles or just a small shot. As always though, he left before the night rush started. His workers could handle it, and they understood that he needed to be there for Cas. So when 8:00 struck, he began heading home.
The nighttime drive back was always his favorite part. There was just something so hauntingly beautiful about a lonely suburban road, and it gave him time to think. Tonight, his mind raced back to the mustang, and suddenly, he couldn't wait to get home and read.