December 21, 2013
Castiel had expected things with Dean to be a whirlwind that left him grasping for something to hold on to so he could stay grounded. He had no idea that it would, in fact, be the complete opposite. The night that Dean had kissed him under a meteor soaked sky seemed like it was a lifetime ago, and he was pretty sure that he would have been slipping between Dean's sheets that night.
And yet, he still found himself waking to the familiar scent of his cornflower blue sheets on his bed. In the guest room. Alone. His first thought when Dean had shown him the guest room that night had been that Dean wasn't completely sure about their...relationship. Then it happened again the second night. And the third.
Finally, four days, a thousand far too heated kisses, and more sleepless night then Cas had in years later, he confronted Dean about it. They'd been sitting at the kitchen table, Dean's face hidden behind the latest issue of Motor Trend, and a cooling mug of coffee clutched in a death grip in Cas' hand.
"Dean?" He'd mustered when he finally mustered up the courage.
"Hmm?" Cas must have paused for longer then he had thought, because Dean had peeked over the top of his magazine, his brow quirked skyward. "What's up, Cas?"
"Do you...I mean...you're not having second thoughts about this, are you? Because I would understand if you were, I just don't want to pressure you into-."
"Jesus, Cas, breathe or you're going to make yourself pass out." Dean had chuckled, interuptting Cas' rant as he set the magazine on the table and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not having second thoughts, you're not pressuring me, and you can relax."
"Well, if you're not...if you're not having second thoughts," He sucked a deep breath through his nose and let it out on a sigh. "Why am I still sleeping in the guest room?" He'd said the words so quickly that he would have doubted Dean hearing them if it weren't for the deep, rumbling chuckle.
"Cas, it's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I want to, I just...I don't know. I want to do this right." Dean paused, his words catching in his throat as he got a look of pure nostalgia on his face. "I want to do this the way that my mother would have taught me. I want to make her proud. I want to make you proud, Cas."
Cas had floudered for a moment, his gaping mouth probably looking more like a fish out of water then a man, but he couldn't find the words that he wanted to say. Nothing seemed good enough. Dean had just given him that small half smile that always set Cas on the razors edge of desire, and reached across the table to steal the remains of a cinnamon bun off of Cas' plate.
And Dean had meant it. There had been 'date nights' with Chinese food cartons strewn across the coffee table, Star Wars blaring on the old television, and Cas tucked under Dean's arm while Dean explained each scene in intricate detail. There had been nights of looks across the kitchen table that set Cas' skin on fire while Sam rambled on about all of the things that had happened at school that day. And now, there was a vase of flowers strategically placed next to his badge and gun with a blue ribbon tied around the vase's neck and a notecard protruding from the flowers to proclaim 'good morning'.
Cas smiled and swung his feet over the side of the bed, running his thumb over a velvety petal slowly. He was still staring at the flowers with a soft smile on his face when he heard Dean clearing his throat. His gaze swung to where the other man was leaning solidly against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Hey." Cas whispered, his voice still scratchy and rough with sleep. Dean smirked at him.
"Hey yourself. Your hair looks like hell." Cas feigned a glare.
"And you're a hopeless, romantic sap." Dean placed his hand over his heart in mock pain before smiling and crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed next to Castiel.
"You have to work in an hour." He muttered, leaning in and brushing his nose over Cas'. Cas grumbled nonesense and leaned in, pressing his chapped lips to Dean's. A hum of contentment filled the space between them when his long fingers slid over the curve of Dean's shoulder and neck to pull him closer to deepen the kiss. He growled low in his throat when Dean pulled away, his hand on Cas' chest preventing Cas from following his mouth. "That's an hour to get ready. Rain check?"
"Yeah, yeah." Castiel rolled his eyes, but the grin stayed firmly on his face to make sure that Dean knew he was kidding.
"Don't sound so thrilled to be going to the career that you chose, Mister Novak." Dean laughed, standing back so that Cas could rummage through his closet and pull out a uniform.
"That's Sheriff Novak to you, buddy." He replied, laying the clothes on the bed and snagging his towel from the back of his desk chair. Dean was stiffling a laugh behind his hand when he turned back to him. "What's so funny?"
"You have...c'mere." Dean stepped in front of him and reached a hand up to smooth a wayward strand of hair into some semblance of order, seeming to completely disreguard the fact that Castiel was going to take a shower. Cas smirked and pressed a kiss to the end of Dean's nose before disappearing into the shower.
He rushed through his shower and slipping into all of the essentials for his uniform, and was, thankfully, standing in the kitchen waiting for the last of the coffee to brew for his travel mug fourty-five minutes later. Dean was watching him from his usual chair at the kitchen table, and Sam was loping into the kitchen as well, cellphone connected to his hand, and a Pop Tart hanging from his mouth.
"You know, that'll digest better if you sit your ass down and eat like a normal human being." Dean scolded, pointing at the Pop Tart. Sam grunted in the affirmative, but seemed to be completely ignoring Dean in favor of his phone screen. "You're gonna fry your brain with that thing." Sam grunted again, and Dean sighed, shooting a glance to where Cas was chuckling from the counter.
"No school today, Sam, Bigfoot ate the principal." Sam nodded and mumbled something at him. Castiel laughed low in his throat and placed the cover on the travel mug in front of him. "So, I have my shift until six tonight, you want me to pick up dinner on the way home?" Dean shook his head and drained his own coffee mug.
"Naw, I want to make you dinner tonight. Somethin' special." Cas' eyes lit up at the sound of Dean's teasing tone. He knew that voice...
"Winchester burgers?" His mouth started watering at the idea of the burgers. Dean made one mean hamburger, he seasoned the meat with a batallion of spices that he wouldn't even let Sam know, cooked them for the perfect, predetermined amount of time, and even toasted the buns perfectly.
"You got it." Dean gave him a slow smile in response. Castiel returned the smile and moved to grab his keys off the hook. He leaned down to press a kiss to Dean's lips, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip and teeth nipping into the kiss. Dean groaned low in his throat, pulling away reluctantly and placing his mouth to Cas' ear.
"Sammy is going to be at Jess' house tonight." He rasped, his lips slick from the kiss and gliding over Cas' skin as he spoke. A shudder ran through Cas' body, the heat of Dean's breath shooting straight through his body and settling low in his stomach, his cock twitching appreciatively against his uniform pants. He growled his approval and smirked down at Dean.
"So, we can..." He trailed off, glancing over to where Sam was playing some game on his phone and muttering a 'damn it' to himself, completely unaware. He raised his brows skyward as he looked at Dean.
"If you want to, hell yes, we can." Dean replied, that predatory glint in his eye. Castiel was contemplating kicking Sam out of the kitchen and letting Dean bend him over the table, but Dean pressed a hand to the center of his chest. "You gotta go, babe. You're gonna be late." He whispered.
"I know." Cas sighed, turning to walk away, but Dean's hand on his bicep stopped him. He turned around, his brow quirked skyward. Dean just smiled and reached under the uniform shirt to hook a piece of his Kevlar that had come undone.
"Don't want to leave that unhooked." He muttered with an oddly shy smile. Cas placed one last chaste kiss to his lips and was half way out of the kitchen when Sam looked up, his brow furrowed. He glanced at Cas curiously.
"Did you say something about Bigfoot?"
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Cas wasn't sure what the feeling that had settled low in his gut was, but it was gnawing at him like a monster. The feeling was heavy and weighed down his shoulders as he sat in his cruiser, thumbing through paperwork of the few traffic stops that he'd executed on shift so far. He brushed it off as lack of sleep and excitement about getting home to Dean that night.
"Attention all units," Came Ellen's crackling voice through the walkie, snapping him from his thoughts. "We've got an officer in need of assistance." Castiel listened as she rattled off an address before keying his walkie and responding.
"This is thirteen-xray-thirteen, I'm about two minutes from that location, en route now." He dropped the walkie into the seat, flicked his lights and sirens on, and tore out the parking lot, throwing up gravel behind the cruiser.
He was skidding to a stop in front of a delapitated house in under two minutes, his door flying open before he'd even thrown the cruiser into park. As soon as he'd stopped, he grabbed for his gun and advanced on the house. The calm that surrounded the house was eerie, the wail of sirens in the background a melancholy symphony.
"Sheriff's Department, I'm coming in the residence." He called out as he stepped through the partially open door. The house smelled of mildew, and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke that clung to the walls like a plant vine. Every muscle in his body was ridged as he moved silently down the hallway, his gun still drawn. The sun had started going down already, and the waning light sprayed through the windows, bathing all of the torn and tattered furniture in an eerie golden glow.
He cleared the bottom half of the house quickly, but found no sign of the officer who's cruiser was parked haphazardly on the curb in front of the house. He was halfway up the set of rickety stairs when the smell of moonshine burning hit him full force. Living with Dean, he'd come to know that smell intimately, it clung to Dean's skin and his hair after long nights beside the still and hung in the back of the Impala for hours after he completed a run.
"Shit." He cursed under his breath and scampered up the rest of the stairs. "Sheriff's Department, come out with your hands up!" He called again. He started down the long hallway, headed towards the one room that had shadows moving across the floor. "I said come out!" The flat sound of metal meeting skin, and a muted groan had him running towards the room, stopping only when his shoulder was even with the door frame and his back was pressed against the wall which was slick from the humidity.
"Castiel? Is that you?" Cas' eyes widened and he swallowed down the acidic bubble of bile that rose in his throat.
"Yes, it's me. How are you doing, Kevin?" He called, trying his best to keep the waver from his voice.
"I'm...well, I'll be honest, I've had better days."
"Give me a SitRep, Kev."
"Well, this psycho," A grunt of pain echoed through the room as the sound of metal, which Cas assumed had to be a gun, cracked against Kevin's skin. "Has a gun trained on me, and seems to be very fond of trying to kill my brain cells with it."
"Okay, look, let Kevin go, and we can talk this out. No need for things to get out of hand, right?" He called, letting the back of his head drop to the wall as he tried to control his breathing.
"Sorry, love, don't think that I believe you." The reply came in a thick British accent, which frankly shocked Castiel. That was unexpected.
"You're obviously not from around here." Cas replied, trying to get the man to let his guard down enough to switch the balance of power. Hostage negotiation 101.
"Not quite."
"Where are you from?"
"My mother."
"Okay, how about we start with something easier, what's your name?"
"Crowley, why? You planning on getting it tattooed on your arse?" Cas sighed and shook his head.
"I just figured that we could get on a more personal basis if this isn't going to be over any time soon."
"Look, I know that they taught you all that fancy hostage crap, but it's not going to work here, I'm afraid, darling. Your little friend stumbled upon something that he had no business investigating, now he's seen a bit too much of my operation. I'm not going to go to prison because he was a nosey little twit." Castiel cursed under his breath.
He knew that there was no way that this was going to end well, but he also knew that he couldn't leave Kevin in their by himself. He leaned forward just enough to see around the corner and got a general idea of the layout of the room. He sucked a deep breath through his nose and laid a hand to the gold cross resting against his chest under his uniform, counted to five and then darted in the open doorway.
He leveled his gun to where Crowley was standing behind Kevin. Kevin's eyes locked with his, the sheer terror there something that he hadn't been expecting. Sure, Kevin looked like a 'nerd', but Cas had seen him go through some shit in the past few months without being phased.
"My, my, aren't you awfully pretty for a copper?" Crowley cooed, a sadistic smirk plastered to his face.
"Put the gun down." Castiel growled, his voice dropping an entire octave and rumbling through his chest. Crowley laughed loudly.
"I don't think so." Cas raised his gun and took another step closer, his eyes still locked with Kevin's. He tried his damndest to convey his plan to Kevin telepathically, and it seemed to have worked, because Kevin gave him an almost impreceptible nod. In one fluid motion, Kevin threw his torso forward and his elbow back until it connected with Crowley's ribcage.
Cas drew his weapon level with Crowley's head, and squeezed the trigger as soon as Kevin had rolled out of the way. The sound of the shot was deafening. Far louder then it rightfully should have been...
It wasn't until Cas felt the radiating heat through his torso that he realized he and Crowley were both holding smoking guns in their hands. He watched a dribble of blood flow down the front of the other man's shirt before Crowley collapsed onto the floor. Kevin sat up and looked over the slump of man before glancing to Castiel, a broad smile on his face.
"Thanks, Castiel." He muttered. Cas wanted to respond, but his chest was heaving, and his breath was coming in short gasps as he dropped to his knees, the gun falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. "Castiel?" Kevin's voice was panicked as he scampered across the floor, catching Cas in his lap as he slumped over to the side, his hand pressed against his own chest. He vaguely heard Kevin radioing for an ambulance as his eyes began to slip closed. "Help's coming, Castiel, you gotta stay with me, okay? C'mon, stay awake." Kevin's hand connected with his cheek, slapping him lightly. "Castiel!" Cas drew a deep breath in, ignoring the flare of pain through his chest, and placed his hand on Kevin's cheek.
"Get...Dean." He rasped, his voice hoarse and forced. The floor seemed to fall out from underneath him, and then the world just disappeared into an ebony veil of darkness.
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Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Cas' first instinct was to reach over and slap his alarm clock, but the second his arm shot out to the side, pain radiated through his entire body. He hissed quietly, his eyes shooting open and revealing an unfamiliar room. He glanced around slowly, squinting against the bright, florescent lights on the ceiling.
"Cas?" He knew that voice...Dean's green eyes soon loomed over him, concern etched into the little lines at the corners of his eyes that Cas loved so much. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pathetic little squeak. He scowled, but watched as Dean snagged a cup of water off a tiny table and helped get the bendy straw situated in Cas' mouth. "There ya go, buddy." He whispered, smoothing his hand over Cas' hair as he drank until his mouth didn't feel like the Sahara desert anymore.
"Thank you, Dean." He said, much happier that his voice came out sounding slightly more human that time. "What happened?"
"You got shot." Cas' eyes shot open and his hand groped at his chest. There was a flare of pain, but he couldn't find any bulking wound dressings, which was confusing as hell. "Your vest took the bullet, but it still broke a few ribs. Doc says you almost punctured a lung, Cas." Dean's voice cracked and waivered as he spoke, the sound of it breaking Cas' heart. He reached out and placed a hand on Dean's cheek, his thumb brushing over the dusting of freckles under his eyes.
"I'm right here, Dean. Right here." He whispered, bringing Dean closer and kissing his forehead.
"But you might not have been." Dean replied, his voice muffled into the crook of Cas' neck. "You might not have been, Cas."
"But I am. That's what matters." He carded his fingers through the short hair at the base of Dean's skull, careful not to move his arms too much. "At least I had my Kevlar. Thank you for making sure that it was Velcroed this morning." Dean let out a wet, sad chuckle and nodded, his hair brushing over Cas' cheek. "Does Sam know?"
"Not yet, he's still at Jess' house. I haven't even thought to text him yet. Shit, I gotta tell Sammy." Dean mumbled, pulling away and wiping his nose with the back of his hand like a toddler. Cas grimaced as he stretched, grabbing the box of tissues off of the bedside table and handed one to Dean. Dean smiled his thanks, blowing his nose loudly as he slipped his phone out of his pocket to text Sam. When he finished, he found Cas staring at him curiously.
"How are you doing?" He questioned. Dean let out another laugh and shook his head.
"How am I doing? You're laying in a hospital bed after being shot, and you want to know how I'm doing?" Cas nodded slowly. "You're a crazy shit, you know that?"
"I've heard that once or twice." He paused for half a beat, frowning at Dean before continuing. "I'm sorry that I ruined our plans for the evening, Dean."
"Cas. No." Dean shook his head and laced his fingers through Cas'. "Don't even think about any of that right now, you just focus on gettin' better, understand?" Cas picked at the grey hospital blanket with his free hand, pointedly avoiding Dean's gaze. "Understand?"
"Yes, Dean." He brought his gaze back up, shy blue eyes meeting fiery green. "I understand."
"Good. Now that that's settled, let's see if we can get a nurse in here, and get you some more pain meds, huh?" Cas shook his head and reached over to grab Dean's wrist. He moved his free hand to brush open the hospital gown he was wearing. A spider web of bruising stretched across the better part of his chest, but he still pulled Dean's hand to his chest and pressed it over his heart.
He watched Dean's face as he felt the beating of Cas' heart under his fingertips, his face staring down at his chest in wonder. When Dean's eyes lifted to Cas' face, they were glassy and tear coated.
"Dean," He rasped, his throat tight with his own emotion. "I'm okay. I promise. I wouldn't lie to you, Dean." Dean gave another sad smile, and leaned forward, brushing his lips across the pattern of bruising. Cas' breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of his lips and nose dragging across his battered skin.
"Who was it that did this to you?" Dean's voice was barely above a growl as he spoke. Cas could feel the tension radiating through the other man's muscles.
"He said his name was Crowley. I killed him, Dean you don't have to worry about it." Dean's jaw was tense, but he didn't say anything. Cas thought for a moment before sighing and continuing the story. "It was a bullshit dispatch. Kevin was there because Crowley was running a still out of that abandoned house by the county line."
"Shine? He was a shiner?" Dean jumped off the bed fast enough that the mattress sprung slightly, sending a scorching pain through Cas' chest, but he locked it down. He didn't want to freak Dean out.
"Dean, there are hundreds of other people running stills. Don't make this personal just because he was in the same business." Dean was still pacing the length of the room, muttering loudly to himself. "Dean, please?" That had Dean slowing to a stop at the foot of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair until it was sticking up in a hundred different directions. Cas smiled gently at him, bringing a frown to Dean's face.
"What are you smirkin' at?" He grumbled. Cas lifted his hand and gestured for Dean to sit next to him on the bed.
"Your hair looks like shit." Cas chuckled, reaching out to smooth the tendrils of hair into order. Dean smiled down at him, his arms bracing on either side of Cas' head.
"I think that's my line." He whispered, leaning in and brushing his nose over Cas'.
"Hmm. Maybe, but if the shoe fits, babe." Cas smirked, leaning up and pressing his lips to Dean's. The sound of Sam's voice as he frantically demanded to know which room Cas was in. Dean chuckled and glanced at the door.
"I'm sorry this happened to you, Cas." He placed his palm against Cas' cheek, the sound of Sam's heavy footsteps getting closer. "I'm never going to let you get hurt again. Ever."
"You can't promise that, Dean." Cas sighed, watching Dean through sad eyes.
"I can, because I'm not going to let anything hurt you ever again. As long as I'm alive, Cas, you're going to be safe. I promise."
"What happens when you aren't around me anymore, Dean?" Cas immediately regretted the words when he saw the flash of hurt across Dean's face.
"What the hell makes you think I'm going anywhere? I'm in this, Cas. All the way, better or worse, like it or not, you're stuck with me."
"Better or worse can get pretty shitty. The life of a cop isn't an easy one, the family of a cop is even harder."
"But I want that. With you. All of it, the shitty parts, the good parts. I want barbeques with you and Sammy, and I want to take you to dinner at some cheesy-ass restaurant where I have to wear a suit jacket and everything." Dean inhaled sharply and shook his head on a breathy chuckle. "I want to be the one to make sure that you're okay, and I want to be the one that you come home to at night."
"Dean, I-."
"I'm not finished." Dean held his hand up, cutting Cas off abruptly. "I want to wake up, every morning, and see you staring back at me from the other side of my bed. I know that you like watching me sleep, don't pretend like you've never done it, I've seen you, and frankly, it's less creepy then it probably should be. You spend so much time protecting everyone else, Cas. The city. Me. Sammy. Who the hell protects you?"
"I can take care of myself, Dean." Cas replied, his brow furrowed.
"So can I, and so can Sam. Every Goddamned person in this town can, but with you around, they don't have to. And, now, you don't have to. Let me protect you. You and Sammy are the most important things in the world to me. Let me show you." Cas opened his mouth a few times, searching for the words that would convey how he felt, but damned if he wasn't speechless for a few moments.
"You can't save everyone, Dean." He sighed, shaking his head and reaching out to lace his fingers with Dean's. He placed a trail of kisses to bruised and battered knuckles. "But you try." Dean smiled shyly. Cas glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was standing in the doorway, tears hovering on the corners of his eyes. This was it. This was Cas' 'end game'. His family. "Okay. Okay, Dean."
If Dean wanted to protect him and Sam, he could at least give them that.
He had to.
Anything for the Winchesters.