Chapter 11:
AN: I hate working weekends. It cuts into my fic writing time. Anyway, he's the next chapter. Enjoy!
Dean awakes the next morning to find Castiel doing his best impression of an octopus. The angel's body is pressed as close as possible against Dean's side. His head rests on Dean's shoulder. One arm is wrapped around Dean's waist while the other grippes Dean's shirt tightly, likes he expects Dean to disappear if he lets go. Dean tries to shift into a more comfortable position. Castiel tenses when he feels Dean moving. Dean reassuringly rubs his hand down his lover's back until the angel relaxes.
He expects the angel to be asleep. However when he looks down, he meets Castiel's intense (although slightly unfocused) gaze. It's as if Castiel is looking past Dean into another place or time. It makes Dean feel uneasy.
"Cas?" he places a hand on the angel's shoulder. The angel's eyes abruptly come back into focus. "Are you ok?"
"I am… fine," Castiel hesitates.
"Bull shit," Dean states firmly but not unkindly. "What's wrong?"
"I was thinking," Castiel replies. Dean waits for him to continue, but Cas doesn't say anything more.
"Thinking about what, Cas?" Dean gently prompts.
"I was contemplating the result of losing you." Castiel says quietly. "The idea is unpleasant." The angel tries to make his voice neutral, but Dean can hear how upset Castiel is. The way he tries to hide his eyes from Dean only makes it more obvious.
Dean takes Castiel's chin in his hand and pulls the angel's face up into a kiss.
"Relax," Dean says in between pressing his lips to Castiel's. "You aren't going to lose me. I promise."
Dean pours all the love and comfort that he can into their lip lock. Castiel sinks into the kiss, returning it with a fiery hunger. They get lost in each other. Problems are forgotten as the world narrows to just the feelings of lips and tongue tangled together in a heated dance. Eventually- they could have been kissing for hour or mere minutes- Cas pulls away.
"Dean," there is still worry in Castiel's voice.
"Relax, I promise," Dean repeats, but his lover still seems uneasy. Suddenly, an idea occurs to the elder Winchester. "I know what will cheer you up… Pancakes."
Castiel looks at Dean like he's gone mad.
"Trust me, Cas," Dean says with a grin that makes his whole face light up. It's contagious, because Castiel soon finds himself smiling too.
Castiel sits at the kitchen table watching his lover cook. Dean is serenading the angel with a medley of classic rock songs, accompanied by a little dance that involves a lot of booty shaking (for Castiel's benefit), while he works. He begins by rummaging around the kitchen for ingredients. He finds most of the ingredients in Bobby's kitchen (including some milk that Dean decides to throw out because it's beginning to look more like yogurt) and summons everything he can't find with a swish of his hand.
Dean finds a bowl buried underneath some exotic dried herbs. He blows the dust off it and begins to mix everything together. He cracks the eggs with one hand and then tosses the shells over his shoulder into the garbage bin, obviously showing off for Cas. He pours in the flour and sugar without bothering to measure. An entire package of chocolate chips is the last thing added. The huge spoon that Dean uses to stir his concoction also occasionally doubles as his pretend microphone. He angles the microphone-spoon at Cas as his sings Led Zeppelin's 'Heartbreaker'. The angel hesitantly joins in singing the parts he knows.
Next, Dean digs out a frying pan. He pours some of the pancake batter into the pan. A simple flick of his wrist sends the pancake flying high in the air only for Dean to catch in the pan when it comes down. One overenthusiastic flip ends with a pancake sticking to the ceiling. They stop and watch it for a moment, but it doesn't appear that it's going to be coming down soon, so they go back to cooking.
Soon, they have a tall stack of slightly misshapen chocolate chip pancakes. Dean puts a few on a plate, adds some maple syrup and hands the plate to Castiel.
"Dig in," Dean says. Castiel cuts off a small piece of pancake, spears it onto his fork, and takes a tentative bite.
"mmm," Castiel makes a happy sound as the flavors explode in his mouth.
"Good?" Dean asks. Castiel nods enthusiastically before taking another bite. Dean smiles and digs into his own stack of pancakes.
Dean is licking a bit of stray maple syrup from the edge of Castiel's mouth when Bobby announces his presence by loudly clearing his throat. They pull away with a start.
"Hey Bobby," Dean says casually. "Cas and I were just having some breakfast."
"Oh, is that what the kids are calling it nowadays, breakfast?" Bobby teases. "You leave any pancakes for me or does an old man have to make his own breakfast?"
"There are some extras next to the stove," Dean responds. "There's enough for Sam, too."
As Bobby walks into the kitchen the pancake on the ceiling finally succumbs to gravity. It sails past him. A few inches to the left and Bobby would have been wearing it like a hat. He looks up confused, checking the ceiling to for more falling debris. Dean is trying to keep a straight face, but it's too much and he bursts out laughing.
"Laugh it up," Bobby says. "You're gonna be the one washing my ceiling." Despite his words Bobby is smiling. He grabs a plate of pancakes and joins the couple at the table. "Pass the syrup."
"So I find Dean Winchester, 9 years old, standing in my kitchen, flour everywhere, holding a plate of lumpy pancakes." The three men had finished their breakfast and now Bobby is telling Castiel stories about Dean's childhood. "The boy looked so proud of himself, I would have felt just awful if I didn't at least take a bite of them. They weren't that bad, a little burnt and there was the occasional bit of egg shell, but I'd eaten worse on the road. Sam used to love 'em."
"Oh yeah," Dean says grinning at the memory. "He used to call them Dean-cakes. He'd ask me to make them whenever we stayed here."
"Speaking of Sam," Bobby begins. "Is your brother still asleep?"
"I guess," Dean replies. "I haven't seen him since last night."
"That's odd," Bobby replies. "He's always been Mr. Early Riser as long as I've known him. Yesterday he was up at dawn. Now it's almost 11. I'm going to check on him."
"Bobby, he's probably just sleeping late," Dean points out. "But go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."
"I've just got this feelin'…" Bobby trails off, exiting the kitchen.
"Sam's pancakes will become cold if he does not wake soon," Castiel points out.
"I could always make more," Dean replies offhandedly. For some reason this makes Castiel's face break into a smile. "What?"
"I enjoy watching you cook," Castiel tells him. Before Dean can reply Bobby reenters the room, looking troubled.
"What is it Bobby?" Dean wonders.
"I can't find your brother," Bobby replies grimly.
"What do you mean you can't find him?" Dean questions.
"I mean Sam's room is empty," Bobby responds. "It doesn't even look like the bed has been slept in."
It's incredibly dark when Sam sneaks away from Bobby's scrap yard. The moon and stars are his only source of light for most of his with any light on his nearly 4 mile walk into town. He doesn't want to risk driving, because the sound of an engine might wake Bobby or Dean. He plans to hotwire a car once he gets there. It's only a 15 minutes drive, so Sam hadn't expected the walk to take an hour and a half.
He breaks into the first car he sees, parked on a side street at the edge of town. It's a white '98 Toyota corolla with an Eeyore antenna topper. It's decidedly less cool than the impala, but it'll do for now.
It's not an easy drive. Sam didn't exactly have time to MapQuest where he's going and at 3 in the morning there aren't that many places to pull over and get directions. All he has are a set of coordinates that correspond to an abandoned warehouse in Colorado Springs. A few times he takes a wrong turn before finding his way back to the interstate.
Just inside the Colorado border Sam's little Corolla runs out of gas. Even if he was able to find an open gas station, Sam's wallet is still on his nightstand back in his house in California. He hadn't even thought about money before he left Bobby's. He can't pay for fuel so, he decides to find a new car. The only car he can find for nearly a mile is a gold mini-van. He's tempted to keep searching, but now isn't exactly the time to be picky. He sighs as he realizes he's going to show up at the warehouse looking like a soccer mom. At least this car has a GPS.
According to the LCD display on his cell phone, it's 10:47 AM when he gets a call from Dean. Sam just presses the 'ignore' button. He turns the phone off and keeps driving. He'd hoped for a little more time before his brother discovered that he was gone, but there's nothing he can do about it now. At the moment he's just an hour away from his destination. He's almost there.
"Shit," Dean breathes as his second call to Sam goes directly to voicemail. "Fucking shit." He resists the urge to throw his phone against the wall. He quickly slips on his jacket and grabs his car keys before heading for the door. His movements radiate barely contained fury.
"Where are you goin', boy?" Bobby calls after him.
"I gotta go keep my little brother from doing something incredibly stupid," Dean replies as starts the impala's engine.
AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm really excited because we're getting close to the end. I tried explain Castiel's issues more, but leave comment if it's still unclear. FYI- the cars Sam stole are based on the cars that my family owns. I just thought that'd be fun to put in there. We're getting down to the wire. There should only be 2 or 3 chapters and an epilogue left. Yay! Until next time : )