Title: The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (3/?)
Author: craystiel
Rating: PG (For now)
Pairing: Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.
Spoilers: A little of season 8.
Warnings: Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.
Beta: TruffleHead (Thanks again!)
Notes: Sorry to leave you guys hanging, the holidays got a little hectic. Hope you all had a merry time!

Summary: Its been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

Castiel was the first to confront Dean, placing his hand on the gun and lowering it.

"Everything is fine, Dean, there is no need for the firearm."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean raised his voice to a harsh whisper. "Our busy little suburban street is dead quiet and pitch black- there is every need for the firearm!"

"Cas is right, Dean, we're just overreacting, after everything we've seen." Sam took the gun from Dean's hands.

"Okay okay, no guns," Dean pushed out a laugh, "but we should at least check it out." He tried to regain composure, but his heart was racing and there was sweat breaking out on his forehead despite the cool evening breeze.

Dean Winchester wasn't one to freak out, he'd been doing this his entire life. He knew the life of a hunter better than most. Hell, he hunted better than most, but it'd been months since they'd hunted anything. Months since they'd all risked their lives, yet again, for the fate of a world who didn't know their names. And they'd won, again. But at what cost, this time? Lives were lost and ruined and it didn't matter how many creatures they took down anymore, because there was always going to be something to take its place. So after a few hundred celebration drinks and consoling a confused and very broken Cas to sleep, they had decided on a new direction- one that didn't involve them dying in the next ten years, or even earlier.

"Dean," Cas placed a hand on his cheek, "we don't hunt anymore." Cas was smiling, but there was worry etched deep in his features. Dean shook off the thought that something had finally caught up with them and managed a little nod. The hand that had been on his cheek brushed his fingertips lightly before sliding into the pocket of his favourite trench coat. Dean chanced one last glance out at the dark street before following Cas and Sam inside.

He remained distracted for the entire night. They were all in the lounge room, finishing off their Sunday by watching a movie. It was Sam's week to pick, hence why they were watching a terribly boring documentary on something Dean probably wouldn't care about even if he'd been paying attention. Sam and Cas were on the couch and Dean was sitting on the floor in front of Cas, Jimmy stretched out across his lap. He had to admit, he was warming up to the dog, although he would never tell Sam that. Cas was running his fingers through Dean's hair absentmindedly but Dean barely noticed, nor appreciated the loving gesture.

He went to bed halfway through the movie, making some half assed joke about it being a yawn fest, or something along those lines. He saw Sam give Cas a look, but he didn't stop to talk about it, heading straight to his room.

He couldn't sleep that night. Not like that was unusual for him, but tonight his dreams were being held hostage by an abundance of bad memories. He could still remember everything from their last hunt, the day they closed the gates of hell forever. The smell, the sounds, even the taste of dust in the harsh wind. He remembered everything and it all came bounding back in harsh colours of waste and young life. He could almost still feel Kevin clinging to his hand for dear life, only to have him slip through his fingers and get trapped behind those gates. He could hear the screams and he could smell burning flesh and everyone was always dying and he couldn't save anyone, he couldn't save a single soul...

"Dean! Dean, wake up! You're having a nightmare!" Someone was shaking him, "Dean, wake up!"

"Cas?" He breathed out, opening his eyes. As they adjusted to the darkness, the sensations of burning flesh and Kevin screaming out his name for help slowly started to fade and instead were replaced with big blue eyes, dark with concern.

"You were screaming out for help, Dean, I came in at once. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just- bad dream." He attempted to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Kevin again?" Cas asked.

"It's nothing, Cas, really." Dean wiped sweat from his forehead.

"It's about the street then?" Cas placed a cool hand on Deans chest.

"Something wasn't right." Dean shook his head.

"We'll investigate tomorrow, you need some rest." Cas' thumb was rubbing smooth, easy circles against his skin and Dean sighed.

"I'll-" Cas went to get up, Dean grabbed him by the coat.

"I think we both know by now that I don't want you to leave. Just-" Dean paused, he was obviously still half asleep otherwise these words never would've left his mouth, "Just lay down with me. Stay, please."

Castiel obliged immediately, pressing his body close to Dean's. Dean wrapped an arm around the warm body beside him and buried his head in Cas' neck.

"I feel safe when you're here Cas, like nothing could ever harm me." Dean whispered against Cas' skin.

"I'm merely human now, Dean, there's no way I can protect you like I used to." Dean didn't reply, just laughed and pulled Cas a little closer. Cas took the hand holding him close and entwined it with his own. It was more. Dean didn't have any more nightmares that night.

They were still wrapped tightly together the next morning. Dean woke first, the tie from Cas' coat strangling and ripping him from his dreams. He accidentally woke Cas trying to untangle it from around himself.

"Sorry," Cas groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"We're getting you pajamas. This," Dean slid the coat off of Cas' shoulders, "Is getting ridiculous."

"It reminds me of Jimmy and his great sacrifice," Cas yawned, snuggling into Dean again, "And of my former status."

"We're never gonna forget Jimmy, Cas, not after you insisted we name the dog after him." Dean laughed, "And the coat can stay, just don't sleep in it. Death by trench coat is not the way I wanna go."

This was the way Dean imagined the rest of his life. He didn't care too much about the details, about the where's or the what's. All he cared about was this. Cas snuggling into him, wearing a ridiculously goofy grin for that of a former angel. No, it didn't matter where they were now, or what they were doing, it just mattered that they had each other. Dean had never been the type to think about the future, but every time he looked into Cas' eyes, he could see nothing but the life they had in front of them.

Mondays were his favourite. Sam had class early, so Cas and Dean didn't have to leave the house until after lunch. No Sam meant long emotionally charged moments that could actually go somewhere. Cas entwined their hands and sighed. This was one of those moments.

"Dean." Cas tilted his head to look up at him. "Do you recall what you said last night?"

"Yeah, Cas." Dean smiled, and Cas did too.

"I feel safe with you, too. Dean... protected." Cas propped himself up onto his elbow, "When I first fell, I felt very weak and useless, but living here," The finger tips from Cas' free hand slowly grazed Deans face, "Being by your side still, sharing these moments," Cas chuckled, "I feel stronger than ever, I feel very human. For the first time, I feel that maybe falling wasn't such a bad thing because I got to fa-" Deans phone buzzed beside them, interrupting Cas mid sentence.

"If that's Sam, I swear to God..." Dean reached behind Cas to grab his phone. A text, from Sam.

"Even when he's not here, he's here." Dean muttered, before replying, "Apparently I have the day off." Dean actually wiggled his eyebrows. "Feel like ditching class?" But somewhere between the heartfelt confession and an annoying text message, their relationship had shifted once more.

"I should get ready for class." Cas lent a shy smile, getting off of the bed and leaving the room.

"Sure." Dean replied to an empty room once the door had shut. It was less.

xXx

Dean didn't like being in their house alone. He did menial chores, watched TV, and cooked dinner early, but it was still 2 hours until somebody would be home. He paced the living room a few hundred times before barreling down their basement steps and opening up their weapons arsenal, which hadn't seen the outside world for over three months.

"I'm not being paranoid," Dean muttered to himself while rummaging through a bag full of guns, "I'm just being thorough, keeping us safe." He pulled out the gun he was looking for and shook his head, "Great, and now I'm talking to myself".

Dean wasn't too sure what he was doing, to be honest. It was daylight still, barely, but the point remained. He didn't really even know what he was looking for, yet he was still pacing the street looking for something suspicious. There was nothing. He scanned the street until it got dark. He snuck behind the scenes of the suburban family homes and crouched down in bushes like a creepy neighborhood peeper.

He was just about to give up, when he saw it. It was out of the corner of his eye and his torch had been frittzing at the time, but he still saw it. He felt like he was hallucinating. He spent so much time worrying that something had been coming to get them, that he didn't stop to think about what they would actually do if he'd been right. And he was right. His heart tightened as he approached their next door neighbor's shed. He crouched down and placed his finger in the dust before him. Sulfur. He gulped. Their cozy little life in the suburbs was over.

When Sammy and Cas got home, Dean surprised them with beers and pizza in the kitchen. Their little wooden kitchen. In their little white picket house. In their busy little suburban street. He was the one that had to break the bad news. This wasn't going to be easy. They weren't a team anymore. Sammy wasn't broken, Cas wasn't an angel, and Dean wasn't anything he could ever even remember being. No they weren't a team now, they were a family. And they didn't hunt anymore. Nor did they want to.

"I found sulfur next door today." Dean smirked, "It looks like we forgot to lock the gate."