Cas and Dean find themselves at the library the following day, once again sitting at that small table in the back of the room, babbling on about everything and anything. They then agree to meet up at the movies a week from then to watch a cheesy romantic chick flick that Cas wants to see. Dean can't remember the name of it because he was staring at Cas the entire time, a goofy smile on his face. After that they the season changes and they find themselves looking at Christmas lights in downtown Chicago, then end up at a New Years Eve bash Charlie is throwing a few weeks later and share drunk, messy kisses at midnight. Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, and the two soon become inseparable, spending long nights staring at the stars outside the city limits, whispering promises about their future, how they are going to get away from this toxic world they live in and see the universe.
However, Dean can't get past the secrecy of their relationship. He's a pretty good liar, he has to admit, but he simply cannot keep his happiness under wraps around his family. John definitely notices, Dean can tell, but doesn't say anything. But he should have suspected that Sam would catch on sooner or later.
"Okay, who is it?"
Dean rolls out from under the Impala to find Sam leaning against the garage frame one day, arms crossed tensely over his chest. He looks truly intimidating from the floor, towering over him, and yet it is his eyes that scare Dean the most, that quiet burning that means he's truly angry about something.
He pushes himself up off the floor to look his brother levelly in the eye. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, Sammy."
"Oh cut the crap, Dean!" Sam exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "The past few months you haven't complained once, gotten into a fight with dad, hell- you have even been taking Dad's stakeout jobs with a big smile on your face!"
Dean grits his teeth together, leaning against the hood of the Impala tensely, rubbing the hood absentmindedly. "What, a guy isn't allowed to be happy for no reason? We've had some pretty big successes in the past few months, you know. Dad finally cracked down on that Italian mobster the Novaks hired, he hasn't been drinking as much, and," Dean pulls a folded up form out of his pocket, throwing it in his brother's direction, "I just got a raise from working overtime at Bobby's garage. There's no one, trust me."
He watches as Sam unclenches his fists, taking a deep breath to calm down. He thinks he's in the clear from the questions, already getting down under the Impala again to finish up his work, when he feels his blood run cold with six words.
"I know about you and Castiel."
Dean hits his head on the Impala as he hears the words, rolling out from under the car again to find Sam absolutely fuming. He has seen Sam angry countless times in his life, but never was it directed at him. Dean isn't going to lie, it scares him to the bone.
"…Wha-what-wa," Dean stammers uneasily, backing himself into the corner of the garage.
"Just admit to it, Dean! You were acting weird so I went to your room to ask you what was wrong, but you weren't there. But I just happened to come across your unlocked phone instead, and well, your texts speak for themselves."
"What were you going through my stuff for?" Dean asks tensely, clearly trying to buy himself time to explain.
"Wha-Dean! You go through my stuff all the time! Do I have to remind you of the time when-" Sam stops, shaking his head erratically. "-You're changing the subject!"
Dean mutters cusses under his breath, nails biting into this palms.
"Okay fine," Dean says quietly. "I've been seeing Cas for six months now."
The next thing Dean knows he is on the ground, a throbbing pain blooming across his cheek. He doesn't even comprehend that Sam punched him until his brother is standing right over him, one hand dragging him up off the floor while the other is still clenched into a fist.
"Are you effin' insane?" Sam growls, getting up in Dean's face. "Like dating?! Dean, do not tell me you are fooling around with a Novak? What is wrong with you?"
Dean tries to respond but he doesn't get a chance before Sam bangs him back against the concrete, his brother's hot breath breathing down his neck.
"I'm not insane," Dean says through clenched teeth, "And we're not fooling around! Can't two guys just be friends?"
Sam slightly releases his grip to lean back, throwing him the darkest look he has ever gotten. "I'm pretty sure friends don't sext back and forth all day."
Dammit. Those were the texts Sam saw? Of course they were. He can't help but blush at what Sam must have seen. Cas may be a bit of a hermit in his home, but he could get Dean all hot and bothered like no other.
"…Maybe a bit more than friends then," Dean whispers, feeling the redness flow to his cheeks.
Sam huffs out a breath and lets Dean go, his body slumping against the wall roughly. Sam starts pacing uneasily, running a hand through his hair, clenching his fists. Dean doesn't know what he is so nervous about; it's not like Sam would be the one in deep water if anyone found out about his relationship with Cas.
"Did you sleep with him?" Sam gets out between the pacing, not even looking Dean in the eye.
"Dude, no!" Dean gapes, running a hand over his face. "It isn't like that with Cas." He keeps out that he wishes it was.
"Dean," Sam says tiredly, "you know this has to stop, right? That no good will come out of this?"
"How do you know? Cas isn't like the rest of them. He's good, unlike his mob family. He wants to get away. He hasn't even killed anyone!"
"Do you think anyone will care about that? They will shoot first ask questions later. That's how this life works! You taught me that, remember?"
"Then I was wrong!" Dean exclaims in frustration. "Our family is changing. Can't you feel it? Dad is getting better, we haven't made any attacks on the Novaks in months. I think he's finally getting over this stupid game of revenge ping pong we have with that family. There is still hope for a better future for us!"
"No, there isn't!" Sam screams back. His face contorts into an image of angry John, and it throws Dean so offguard he stumbles back. He has seen bits of his father in Sam before, but never like this. "This family doesn't change. The Novaks don't change. This war has been going on for generations before us, and it will keep going on way past our time. Can't you see that?"
Dean doesn't say anything. His body is racked with tension and his mind is flailing. Sam is absolutely terrifying in that moment. His eyes are like twin flames that could light up the night. He returns to pacing back and forth, not saying a word and yet emitting such a strong energy it is palatable. And yet all Dean can think about in that moment is Cas; what is going to happen to him? Will Sam blab about them to their father?
After what seems like hours, Dean can't take the silence anymore. "Are you going to rat us out to Dad then? Send a hoard over to the Novaks to take Cas out?"
Sam stops pacing; suddenly that hatred and fire in his eyes goes out in an instant, automatically cooling to the Sam Dean knows so well; the kind, compassionate Sammy he practically raised, not the solider his family created over the years.
"…How could you think for one second I could ever do that?" Sam asks, honest hurt in his voice.
"Then why are you so angry, huh? Why are you so bent on me leaving Cas?" Dean says harshly.
"Because I don't want to see you dead, which is the only way this can end! Trust me, I know." Sam breathes heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks Dean in the eye and the hurt Dean finds there is so deep, so tangible, he can't help but wonder what ghost is haunting his little brother's mind.
"Sam…" Dean treads lightly, "…how do you know that?"
Sam looks at Dean sternly. "Because it happened to me."
"Her name was Jessica Milton," Sam begins, his voice already shaky. Dean managed to get Sam inside the Impala to tell the story because he looked like he would pass out otherwise. His skin is a chalky pallor, and his hands are already twitching with the memory.
"Why have I never heard of her?" Dean asks, looking at his brother for what feels like the first time. All the pent up anger over the past few years, could this be the cause of it all?
"…Dad didn't want to tell anyone, especially you. Her..death-," he struggles, tears springing to his eyes- "was brutal. It happened shortly after Mom died, back when Dad was a total wreck. Jess and I had been together about a year beforehand before he caught us together behind the house one night. He didn't even stop to ask questions; he just recognized her as a cousin of the Novaks and shot her at point distance."
"Sammy…" Dean starts to say, but Sam cuts him off, tears starting to fall on his face easily now, sobs building in his throat.
"She died in my arms, Dean. Dad shot her…and she buckled underneath me. I watched as the blood seeped through her clothes, knowing I had no way to save her. The last thing she said was that she loved me and that she would see me in the afterlife. You would've loved her. And I can't-" Sam sobs, gripping the leather seat so hard his knuckles turn white, "I cant-help…but feeling that it's all my fault. If I would have been more careful, if I would've taken the bullet for her, if I…" but Sam can't continue on any longer. He loses it, kicking the dashboard with a vengeance, all that anger and guilt rising to the surface after being stuffed down for so long.
Dean has no words that would fix this, would bring any amount of understanding to the pain his brother is feeling, so he just does what he used to do when they were kids. Dean gathers Sam in his arms and holds his brother close, rubbing soothing circles on his back like their mother always used to. He could whisper that it is all going to be okay, that he will get over this, but he doesn't. How do you just get over someone who was, is, and always will be your everything?
He fleetingly thinks of what it would be like if Cas died in his arms, but he pushes the thought away quickly. He can't, he won't, think that way. If anything, Dean is going to protect that boy with his life now, make sure they don't have the same fate as Sam and Jess. He will die before anyone harms Cas.
They lose track of how many hours they spend in that car. Sam's sobs finally die down until silent tears run down his cheeks, Dean never letting his hug falter. Eventually, Dean doesn't know exactly when, Sam falls asleep against his chest, just like he did when their mother first passed and Sam would come running into his room in the middle of the night, haunted with nightmares.
And when his brother awakes about an hour later and the tears have stopped falling, Sam still leaning against his brother, he tells Dean every little detail about Jess. How she was a natural blond who was the sweetest girl Sam had ever met in his entire life; how they met when Sam was still going to college at Columbia, before he dropped out to join the family mob full time after her death. He tells Dean about how she came up to him in their astrology class and out of the blue started talking to him about the stars, not even introducing herself first. He says he knew instantly that he would fall in love with her one day from that first conversation, and how he asked her out only hours after their first meeting.
Sam's eyes light up when he explains the days they spent together, how devastated they both were when they realized their families were connected in that petty feud. His voice takes on a dreamy tone when he talks about the nights they spent sneaking around the Milton grounds, hiding from passerby servants who would monitor the mansion at night. And Dean can't help but laugh when Sam talks about how they lost their virginity to one another in the Milton gardens because his brother's face turns beet red and he stammers over his words.
But of course, the happy stories can't last forever. When Sam comes full circle to that night Jess got shot, his mood automatically turns somber again.
"…We were planning on running away together," Sam says, the shakiness coming back into his voice. "That's why we were meeting that night, to make our plans. We were going to pack up our things and steal Balthazar's car; we didn't have a destination or any money, but we were just going to drive until we ran out of gas and see where it landed us. But of course, we never got there."
Sam moves out of Dean's arms to lean back against the seat, propping his feet up on the dashboard. His eyes look sunken and tired; all of the energy has seemed to have seeped out of his system, leaving only a beaten down version of his brother behind. He doesn't look at Dean, instead keeping his eyes on the floor. Dean can only wonder how long Sam has been keeping this tragedy pent up, never telling anyone.
"I really don't know what to say," Dean says awkwardly, breaking the long silence between them. "I can't-I just-," he stammers uneasily, "I just…can't imagine Dad doing something like that. How have you dealt with him all these years?"
Sam wrings his hands, still avoiding eye contact. "I don't. Besides when you're around, Dad and I haven't said a word to each other since the incident. We only kept up good face with you around so nobody would catch on. I can't forgive him, and he hasn't made an effort to gain it. To him, I think killing Jess was him finally getting his revenge on the Novaks for killing Mom, an eye for an eye. An innocent for an innocent. It's sickening. I haven't been able to look at him for years."
"…I'm sorry." It's the only thing Dean can say, even though he knows it isn't enough. To think of the things his Sammy went through, the emotional pain he suffered all these years, Dean can't imagine it. He always thought he was supposed to protect Sam from the outside world, from scummy mobsters like the Novaks. He never thought he would have to protect his brother in their own home.
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Sam replies softly. "But can you see my point? Who is to say this same thing won't happen again if you're caught with Castiel?Who is to say it won't be you who gets shot?" Sam hesitates, darting his gaze between Dean and the floor- "I already lost my Mom; I don't want to lose my brother too."
"You aren't going to lose me," Dean replies in a gruff voice, trying to push back tears that are springing to his eyes. It kills him to see his brother this way, all broken and beaten down. It absolutely ruins him to see his Sammy unhappy, and the thought of leaving him behind destroys him. "I promise, Sam, that Cas and I will be more careful. I won't let us get caught. But please," Dean pleads, "Don't tell me to not see Cas. He has become so important to me, I just can't let him go."
Sam gazes at his brother with a soft understanding look in his eye. "He's your Jess, isn't he?"
Dean smiles back at him. "Yeah," he says, "I guess he is."
Sam grins. "Well then, if this 'Cas' is going to be around, mind telling me about the man who turned Dean Winchester into a blubbering softie?"
He lightly punches Sam on the arm. "Cas may bring the chick flick moments out of me, but I can still kick your pretty little ass!"
Sam laughs, and Dean quickly delves into the details about his relationship with Cas. For the first time Dean lets it all out, how Cas makes him blush like a schoolgirl with a crush, how he has brought emotions Dean never thought he would feel to life, how Cas is intelligent and kind, how he is a genuinely good person who for some reason spends his time on Dean when he could have any guy in the world. And after some ribbing from Sam, Dean admits that Cas is a damn good kisser.
Their conversation goes on for at least another hour until John enters the garage, telling the boys they have another stakeout job on the Novaks. However neither of the boys object as they rev up the Impala and peel out into the city, laughing like they used to.
Dean smiles all the way to the house he now knows so well. Now that somebody else knows how he feels about Cas, he finally feels like their relationship is real and complete. He is practically on a cloud of elation; for the first time in a long time, Dean feels alive. He feels free. He is free.