"Henry, what the fuck were you thinking?" Dean yelled into the phone. Henry sighed, rubbing his pounding head.
"He knocked me out, Dean," he said. He wondered just how much sleep medication Sam had actually put in his tea, but based on his headache, it was a fair amount. "I couldn't do anything, he put me to sleep." He wasn't even upset at Dean being as mad as he was. If he had been in Dean's position, he would be ripping himself a new one right now. He heard Dean huff on the other line.
"Fine. Not your fault." Dean said.
"Thank you."
"Yeah," Henry heard the Impala in the background.
"Is Charlie with you?" he asked, not hearing her voice. There was a pause.
"Shit." Dean said. "I left her with Sam. I was really upset, I didn't even think about it."
"If she's with Sam, she's fine," Henry said. He dug through the bathroom cupboard some more. "Hey, Dean, we aren't out of Advil, are we?" He rummaged some more.
"We ran out a couple of days ago. Why?" Dean asked. Henry heard the motor shut off.
"The stuff Sam gave me to knock me out," Henry said with difficulty. This headache was really bad. "It is creating a fairly painful headache. I don't think I can actually stand up much longer." Dean growled on the other end of the line.
"I'm going to kill him," he said. "Alright Henry, sit tight. I'm going to go get my bitch of a little brother and I'll stop for some Advil on the way back, ok? Just go rest. We'll be fine."
"OK, thank you, Dean," Henry said. His head was hurting, but not enough to ignore how nice Dean was being right now. Nice for Dean, anyway. And he never spoke to Henry this way. Maybe things were going to get better between them. He realized the line had gone dead after his 'thank you' and pulled the phone away from his ear just in time for a new strike of lightening to run its way through Henry's brain. Yes, he thought, I think I'll just rest for a while.
Sam looked guilty, but not nearly guilty enough, when Henry saw him again. Dean and Charlie were both with him, Charlie looking uncomfortable, Dean just looking pissed as hell at Sam. Henry could sympathize. They were all sitting at the table researching when Henry walked in after his nap, looking ruffled. He hadn't changed out of his button-down again.
"Henry," Sam started, but he was cut off.
"Do that to me again, Sam Winchester, and you will find yourself missing an eyebrow the next day." Henry responded sharply. Dean choked on the beer he was drinking, nearly spilling it down the front of his shirt and into his dad's journal. Charlie hid her grin behind the little black rectangle she was holding. "Now what did you find out?"
Henry didn't really know how Sam had managed to talk everyone into letting him finish the hunt with them, but he was trying not to think about it. What if he was one of those pushover grandparents that did nothing but spoil their grandchildren? Whoa, that was a weird train of thought. Henry tried not to go there again. And he didn't have to try very hard, because now he sat in front of a computer (which Charlie had shown him how to use while Sam and Dean were arguing about something) reading the history of his grandsons. The books were simple and easy to skim over quickly so he had already gotten through three of them. He was now just finding out why exactly Dean drove everywhere.
He had never thought to wonder what either one of his grandsons might be afraid of. He knew they were terrified of losing each other, that much was obvious. He had also figured out that Dean probably feared losing Sam more than the other way around. Dean didn't handle being left very well. A few nights ago Henry had found Dean on the couch, having fallen asleep in front of the TV he insisted they needed. Some medical show was playing and Henry found the button to turn it off. That's when he heard Dean muttering.
"Cas, Cas please," his voice was broken. So completely broken it cut into Henry like a knife. He knew Dean masked his emotions, but he had never feared just how badly he had been really hurting. "Cas, we need you. I need you." Henry was entranced. He wanted to wake Dean up. After all, his body was shaking and tears were making tracks down his face, but he had the distinct feeling that Dean wouldn't want anyone to have heard this. Any of it. Henry wasn't sure he wanted to have heard it, either.
"Cas, I love you, don't do this," Dean just kept talking. His voice was ragged and his breathing was shallow. "Hear me, hear me. This isn't you. Be you. Please, be you again, Cas." Henry couldn't take anymore. He noted Dean's phone on the table nearby and carefully walked over to make sure the volume was loud before heading into the other room and calling it. The sound of heavy guitars filled the other room of the bunker and Henry heard Dean wake with a start.
"Henry," Dean called, "you're ass-dialing me, man." His voice wasn't as broken as before, but it wasn't quite back to the teasing tone it held so often now.
"I'm sorry," Henry said, hitting the red button on his phone. "I didn't mean to."
"That's sort of the definition of ass-dialing," Dean snarked.
Henry had to let himself believe, after hearing Dean, that Sam had not lied about their relationship. Really, he had no reason to lie, Henry just never saw Dean as a person to be in love. He also wondered if anyone else really knew just how upset Dean was about Cas being gone. Dean never seemed to let anyone in. Anyone except Sam and Castiel, he supposed, and maybe Charlie.
As he read further through the book, he made a mental note to ask Dean and Sam if they still used 'christo' when finding a demon. He thought it seemed like a useful idea.
After the case, Charlie came over and stayed the night in the bunker. She could have had her own room, but she insisted on staying on the couch. She waited until Sam and Dean had both gone off to their own rooms before she invited Henry over to enjoy a beer with her on the couch. He brought the laptop he was using to read the supernatural books. He had gotten to John seeing boys at Missouri's house and not saying anything to them and was starting to question just what his son had been like. The boys didn't talk about him often, but it was usually positive. At least, the stuff from Dean was positive. And now, reading these books, Henry started to wonder if he deserved such praise.
"Come over here, grandpa Winchester," Charlie said, a teasing lilt to her voice. Henry found that he didn't mind the nickname when she used it. It just seemed right. She handed him a beer as he sank down into the couch next to her.
"Thank you," he said, taking a sip.
"So, I am just wondering," she said, "how much these idiots have told you about themselves." Henry laughed. Charlie really did know them well. She knew just how little he had been told about his own grandsons. He wondered if she had been waiting the entire duration of her visit to talk to him alone. He wouldn't have been surprised.
"Not much," he admitted, taking another sip.
"Sort of figured," Charlie said, laughing. "The Winchesters are above and beyond the worst sharers that have ever been. No offense." Funnily enough, Henry really hadn't been offended. Charlie just had this tone that was so lighthearted that it was obvious she was only speaking her mind to be truthful, not hurtful. "How far are you through the books?"
"John was with Missouri," he said. He rolled the beer bottle around in his hands and started to pick at the label.
"Ah," she said. "That would explain why you are being more brood-y than usual." Henry nodded.
"It's just that I blame myself. For the way he was to Dean and Sam." Henry said. When he looked up at Charlie he found that she had already known that he felt this way.
"It isn't your fault," she said, and Henry could tell by her frank voice that she meant it. "I mean, yeah, you left him, but the universe just doesn't really play for Team Winchester." Henry supposed he could see that. Charlie looked distinctly like some of her curiosity was about to overflow. Henry smiled at the look on her face.
"You can ask whatever you want, you know," he said.
"What's the deal with Dean and Cas?" she said, so quickly the words almost seemed to overlap. Henry blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected her questions to relate to that at all.
"The deal?" He asked. He thought he understood the question, but he didn't want to be wrong.
"The deal," she said, then turned to face him more directly. "Like, ok, when Cas shows up in the books, Dean acts like he doesn't like him at all, but pretty soon it is beyond obvious that they are madly in love and neither one of them ever does anything about it. I tried to bring it up around Dean yesterday, but he sort of shut me down." Through the whole explanation her arms had been gesturing wildly, trying to get her point across.
"I wouldn't bring Castiel up around Dean again," Henry began. "He is very sensitive about that loss currently. As far as 'the deal' between them, while Dean has never told me himself, Sam informed me shortly after Castiel disappeared that they were, I suppose you would say, involved." Charlie practically squealed. Only a pillow across her face stopped her from shouting loudly enough to wake the brothers up.
"I knew it!" She whisper-yelled and Henry was again surprised by her reaction. She was so enthusiastic about so many things, and Henry found he really enjoyed it. "I knew they were in love! When did it happen?"
"Apparently in the year Dean and Castiel spent in purgatory," he said. Based on Charlie's face, Dean had informed her of his trip.
"I can't believe he didn't tell me!" She threw her arms up into the air and fell back against the couch. "I'm going to kill him."
"Charlie," Henry said, sitting up urgently. "You can't tell him I told you. I don't even think he knows that I know. I can't break his trust now, when he is just starting to let me in." Charlie laughed and tossed an arm out towards him.
"Oh, relax Gramps, I'm not going to tell him it was you," she said, "I have my own ways of making him talk." Henry decided he really didn't want to know what those methods were.
The two stayed up talking for most of the night, jumping from topic to topic quickly. Charlie confused him sometimes, referencing things he'd never heard of, but he enjoyed the conversation. It was the first time he had laughed since he had gotten to 2013 and he found himself with a stomach ache at one point he was laughing so hard. Charlie asked him about his life in Normal, and he asked her about her 'computer things', though he didn't follow a single word she said. It was companionable and easy, so Henry found that neither of them minded when they fell asleep on the couch, Charlie leaning on his shoulder.
"So you think you actually found Metatron?" Henry asked. He was reading the same book Sam had found the Native American symbol in earlier, but there wasn't much additional information inside. Now Dean was talking quickly on the phone, thoroughly worried about his younger brother.
"Well, the whole place seems off," Dean said. "I'm heading back to the room now and—oh my God, Sammy!" There was the sound of pounding feet and Dean yelling.
"Dean, what is it?" Henry shouted to get his attention, "Talk to me. What's wrong with Sam? Breathe, Dean." Henry heard Dean breathe inwards deeply.
"He is… just lying on the floor in the hallway. I don't know. He is so hot, Henry. He's burning up." Dean grunted loudly. "Henry, I have to hang up on you for two minutes. Just two. I have to get him into our room and I need both hands."
"Call me back when you get there or I will kill you myself," Henry said and he was the one who hung up.
Dean had called back, only for a minute, to tell him that Sam was ok, they were both fine, but Sam was still a little delirious. He promised they would be back soon and Henry thanked him for calling. The fact that Dean was willingly calling him and even calling him back as promised was such a far cry from where they used to be that Henry could hardly believe it. Henry spent the rest of the night worried, as he always was when the boys were gone, but he was not overly worried. He felt confident now that Dean would call, which is why he was surprised when he heard the sound of the Impala pulling up outside. He figured Dean and Sam would be longer. The engine cut off and Henry walked towards the stairs to meet the boys as they came in.
"Sam, you aren't helping," Dean grunted. He sounded tired.
"Sorry!" Sam stumbled in backwards, arms out like he was ready to catch something. Dean came into view shortly afterwards, carrying a figure in a trench coat who wasn't moving. Dean was struggling under the weight of the man, but he refused to let Sam put a hand on him. Henry adjusted his stance from welcoming to worried, trying to understand what had happened since his last phone call with Dean.
"Move," Dean growled, and Henry couldn't tell if it was directed at him or Sam, as both of them were now standing side by side, blocking Dean's way as he dragged the unconscious man, who also appeared to be covered in blood, down the hallway and into a guestroom next door to Dean's that had been made up since Henry had arrived. Henry followed after tentatively, but Sam hung back. He got to the door just in time to hear Dean mutter, "Come on, Cas, wake up."
Henry wasn't surprised. He had his suspicions that this was Cas since he had seen the trench coat. He was already far past Lazurus Rising in his quest to read the Supernatural books, and it turned out Carver Edlund's description was far from inaccurate. The angel looked exactly as Henry had imagined him. Dean seemed to not notice Henry's presence. He ran a hand through Castiel's hair delicately, rubbing a thumb across a spot of dirt on the angel's forehead as he went. The gesture was intimate, as though done many times. Henry felt like he was looking through a window shouldn't have been. He retreated without saying another word.
In the other room he found Sam was not doing well, which was to be expected based on Dean's earlier phone conversation. He was sitting down and looking extremely haggard, the rings under his eyes even more prominent than they had been the day before.
"Where did you find him?" Henry asked. He could only assume it had been the brothers who had happened upon Castiel, as the angel seemed currently incapable of being conscious, let alone trying to locate two humans out of billions.
"He appeared in front of our car," Sam said. He sounded shaken. "Dean almost hit him. He never would have forgiven himself." Sam shook his head, letting his long hair whip softly around his shoulders. Whatever he had woken up expecting today to be like, he had been very, very wrong.
"Will Dean be ok?" That was really the only thing on Henry's mind at that point. Dean had been so broken up after losing Castiel, and now suddenly getting him back? Henry knew from experience that Dean was slow to give his trust to people. Then again, it probably worked differently if you were Cas. He just got that feeling.
"He always comes back," Sam said matter-of-factly. And really, he didn't even have to think about it. Cas always came back, which was something Dean tended to forget with all those abandonment issues. No matter how many times his angel left, he always came back.
"That isn't what I asked," Henry said, trying to get Sam's focus, "Will Dean be ok?"
"Oh, Dean," Sam's eyes looked a bit less clouded over for a second while he thought about it. "Dean is always ok." Henry knew from experience and also from his reading that this was not even remotely the case, but he let it drop. Sam looked utterly exhausted and Henry really didn't know how he managed to keep the conversation as on topic as it was.
"Let's get you to bed, Sam," Henry said, coming forward and holding out his hand to support Sam while he stood up. Getting the giant Winchester into bed wasn't as hard as it had been the first time he did it, as Sam was really still fully conscious, just not responding to conversation well. Henry really did enjoy leading his gargantuan grandson to bed. It made him feel sort of like a father again. Well, a grandfather in this case, but the emotion was mostly the same.
When he emerged from the room he found Dean on the couch gulping down a beer. Henry hovered around the edge of the room, trying to get a read on how Dean was feeling just then. He really had no idea what to expect after the strange reunion, so he opted for avoiding the subject, just for the time being.
"What happened at the hotel?" he asked, not making any moves forward into the space.
"We found Metatron," Dean said. He sounded bitter.
"Isn't that good news? You found what you were looking for," Henry said. Now he took a small step inside the room. Baby steps, approaching Dean like a wounded animal.
"He isn't exactly what you would call heavenly," Dean said.
"From what I've heard, isn't that a good thing?"
"Sure, unless you need some angel help and the angel in question is a damn agoraphobe who hasn't left his fucking motel room in 2,000 years." Dean sucked down half of the remaining beer in his bottle. "On the other hand, he brought Kevin back. And we know the third trial." Henry was shocked. He hadn't expected this much to have happened with the way Dean was acting.
"You know the third trial, you have your prophet back, and you have your angel back and you are still moping around like some kid stole your candy?" Henry asked. He walked a few more steps into the room until he could look at Dean directly. He looked tired.
"s'not my angel," he muttered, not meeting Henry's eyes.
"Yes he is, and everyone knows it so you can stop trying that one," Henry said, rolling his eyes. Dean looked surprised.
"And you're cool with that?" Dean asked, looking up at Henry.
"Of course," Henry answered coolly. He didn't mention how long it had taken him to be cool with that, but that part of the sentiment didn't matter.
"It's just, the last time I saw him," Dean breathed in raggedly, "he wasn't really… Cas. And then he left. Again."
"But he came back," Henry reminded him. Dean shrugged.
"He does that." Before Henry could say anything else, Dean was up out of his seat, "Goodnight, Henry," and then he was gone.
"Goodnight, Dean," Henry whispered into the empty air.
The next day, Henry made sure he was the only one hanging around Castiel's room. Both of the brothers were in the main area doing more research on the latest trial that Metatron and Kevin had given them, but Henry wanted to talk to the angel. He sat in his room across the hall and waited to hear the tell-tale sound of the heavy door opening. It was fairly late into the morning when he finally did. Henry jumped up off of his bed and ran out his already open door, almost running into Castiel.
The angel stiffened sharply at the man he didn't recognize and his angel sword fell down into his palm naturally. Henry noticed and fell a few steps backwards.
"No, it's ok," he said, holding his hands up in surrender, "I'm a friend. I'm Henry Winchester, Sam and Dean's grandfather," he noticed the way Castiel's eye twitched at Dean's name. He also noticed the angel unstiffening his posture slightly, moving out of a battle-ready stance. He was still wary, obviously, but Henry wasn't worried he would kill him on the spot anymore. He probably should have figured that pouncing on an injured angel who had no idea who you were was a terrible plan, but no going back now.
"How are you here?" Castiel asked and wow, Henry was not prepared for that voice. Sure, the books described it as gravely and deep, but it also rang with so much contained power. He could feel the thrum of it in his bones.
"I got here a while ago," Henry said. He lowered his hands experimentally and when Castiel didn't attack him on the spot, he let them fall completely. "I jumped forward in time to stop a Knight of Hell and I was led to Sam and Dean. I was injured in a fight. They took me in."
"How did you manage to time travel?" Castiel asked. He looked Henry up and down, "you are only human."
"I drew on my soul," Henry answered. Castiel seemed to accept this much more readily than Sam and Dean had. Although, that wasn't completely shocking considering how old Castiel was and how much he had seen in his lifetime. Henry had underestimated just how strange it would be to have this conversation. Castiel made a move to go past him.
"Now wait just a second," Henry said. He didn't put a hand on the angel to stop him, deciding that was probably not the best plan, but his voice alone seemed to stop Castiel. "Look, I don't care where you have been, or what you have been doing, but I do care about Dean. You hurt him. And I don't take well to people hurting my grandsons. If you ever hurt him that way again, angel, I will find a way to hurt you myself." Henry was annoyed to see the look of amusement on Castiel's face. He knew he was no real threat to the angel, but amusement was just rude.
"It is obvious you are related to them," Castiel said, not smiling, but Henry could almost hear it on the cold voice. "Your loyalties to family and your tendency to threaten are the same as Sam and Dean." Ah, so that was what the amusement was for. Henry thought back to his threat and started laughing.
"I don't know when I became so much more like them," he said, looking down. Castiel tilted his head at Henry.
"You have always been like them. You are a Winchester." And with that, he did get past Henry and into the main room where Sam and Dean were.
"My wound isn't healing as quickly as I'd hoped," Henry heard as he entered the room. He had taken a couple of minutes calm himself down and get ready to be in the same room as what was bound to be an unnatural amount of tension. He walked in to Castiel was sitting down near Sam, holding his stomach. He looked uncomfortable. "But I am getting better. And you're getting worse." Henry knew it was the case, but to hear Castiel say it made the whole thing seem more real. Sam was not improving at all. Giving him time wasn't enough to help.
"Well, two trials down, one to go."
"And the third trial, you know what it is?"
"Yeah, I, uh, have to cure a demon," Sam sounded about as confident in being able to do that as Henry had when he had first heard the third trial.
"Of what?" Castiel asked.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Sam said. Henry noticed the helpless gesture at the books spread all across the table.
"Where is Dean?" Henry asked, coming forward to join the conversation. He had been sure that both his grandsons were in the room but now it looked like only Sam had been there. Castiel looked down.
"Soup's on!" Came Dean's voice. He was holding a tray in his hands which he put down in front of Sam. He picked up the bottle of beer on the tray, "I think that's, yup, still good." Sam looked down at the tray and Henry rolled his eyes in Dean's direction.
"A half-drunk beer, jerky, and three peanut butter cups?" Dean shifted.
"We're a little low on supplies," the older Winchester admitted. No shit, Henry thought. "I'll do a run."
"I'll come with you," Castiel said, standing up. Henry noticed that in the whole time Dean had been in the room he had not once acknowledged Castiel, a big jump from the way he had been the night before. "Dean, I'm sorry." Henry noted the begging look Castiel's eyes had now. It was so strange to see the change. When he had been talking to the angel, his blue eyes had been hard and almost alien, not the open, broken things they were now, displaying so much emotion. So much need for Dean to just look at him.
Dean rolled his shoulders and looked up, finally meeting Castiel's eyes. "For what?" Oh, here we go, Henry thought. He could already tell this conversation wasn't going to go well. He looked to Sam for cues on how he should react in this situation, considering he had never seen the two interact before. He was oddly uncomfortable just standing there in the silence. It seemed that now Dean had decided to look at the angel, he wasn't going to stop. They just stared at each other silently. Sam was looking hard at the table.
"For everything," Castiel said, still looking at Dean. Still pleading with those eyes. Henry didn't know how Sam could take it.
"For everything?" Dean said, "Like ignoring us?"
"Yes," Castiel said. He sounded ragged, like he knew this conversation wasn't going to go well either, which didn't surprise Henry. Considering how close Dean and the angel were, Henry was sure Castiel knew Dean even better than he did.
"Or bolting with the angel tablet and losing it because you didn't trust me?" Dean sounded disappointed but he still wouldn't look away, "You didn't trust me." Castiel looked down and Henry looked to see that Sam was still sitting firmly. What was wrong with him? This was obviously an intimate moment. He and Henry shouldn't be here. Henry cleared his voice and received looked from two pairs of similar eyes.
"Sam, would you come take a look at my computer?" he asked, trying to think of pretty much any excuse to clue Sam in, "I just can't figure out how to find that web-thing you were talking about." Henry was annoyed at having lie. He had actually gotten quite good at using the computer, especially after Charlie's tutorials. Now he had to play the 'from a different century' card and it was driving him crazy.
"Uh, yeah, sure," Sam said, standing up carefully and following Henry out around the corner. They stopped just outside the door. "What's the deal, Henry?" Sam asked, keeping his voice at a whisper. Henry shushed him.
"I just don't understand, Cas," Dean was speaking more quietly, more tenderly now. Henry assumed he had let his shoulders fall out of their defensive positions a bit. "How could you not trust me?"
"Dean, I am so sorry," Castiel also sounded more open with the conversation just between the two of them now. "I don't know how to tell you how sorry. I was so afraid. My mind hasn't been my own in months. I didn't know what to do." Henry heard the sound of footsteps and he wondered which person had stepped closer.
"Henry, we shouldn't be eavesdropping!" Sam hissed. Henry waived him off. He had never had a chance to be exposed to this relationship before, and he felt such a thrumming need to know this part of Dean's life. He still felt so protective, and Dean had been so hurt before. He just needed to know Dean would be alright.
"Cas, I'll forgive you. You are forgiven if you just tell me what happened," Henry heard a sniff and suspected it was Castiel's, though he had a hard time picturing the angel crying.
"Naomi, she" Castiel sucked a rough breath in, "she tortured me. She made me forget when I met her. I didn't know what was happening." He sounded like he was on the edge of losing it.
"Tell me, please," Dean whispered so quickly Henry almost didn't catch it.
"She made me practice ki-killing you. A thousand times. Dean, I killed you so many times." Henry heard what sounded like Castiel falling heavily into a chair, so fast and hard he wouldn't have been shocked if Castiel's knees had given out while he was standing. Hell, it hadn't even happened to Henry and his knees still felt weak. Sam looked like he had been hit across the fact with a baseball bat.
"Cas, you didn't kill me," Dean said, his voice completely different than it had been at the beginning of the conversation. Now he sounded like he was begging Castiel. "Not when it mattered. You didn't kill me, I'm right here." Henry took a breath and risked a look around the corner. Castiel was sitting heavily in a chair, tears running down his cheeks, and Dean was in front of him on his knees, carefully stroking the angel's face, sort of like he had been the night before.
"But Dean, I hit you. I just kept hitting you. What if I hadn't stopped? I could have killed you!" Castiel looked down at his hands in disgust. He was breathing hard again. Dean put his hands on either side of the angel's face and forced their eyes to meet.
"You stopped." He said, with an air of finality. "You stopped when it mattered, and now you are back here with me. And that bitch Naomi has one hell of an enemy." Castiel still looked miserable when Dean did something Henry wasn't completely expecting. He leaned forward and kissed Castiel. For a moment, the angel didn't respond. He just sat there rigidly while Dean reached behind him and ran a hand down the ridges of his back. Finally, he reacted.
The angel's hands went up and around Dean's form, hugging him more closely. He kissed desperately, like he had been underwater and Dean was his burst of air. One hand grabbed tight to the back of Dean's neck and then moved up into his hair and Dean groaned. At this point, Henry agreed with Sam. He turned around and grabbed the tall Winchester's arm and moved them to another room, more than eager to let the couple be alone for as long as they needed.