Dean had rarely seen Sam cry.
He supposed Sam wasn't technically crying now; he was blubbering a bit, but he wasn't sobbing. That would probably have ruined the wedding pictures. Dean couldn't say his eyes were entirely dry either as Jess made it down the aisle to where Sam stood, her own eyes gleaming with tears. In fact, there probably wasn't a dry eye in the entire room.
As the ceremony got underway, Dean forced himself to pay attention to the rambling words of the officiant. This was a very important day in his brother's life and, if the way Sam was looking at Jess was any indication, Sam wasn't hearing any of it and might ask Dean for details later.
It was at least blessedly short, neither Sam nor Jess being particularly religious, and Dean did not have to resort to biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself awake until they triumphantly strode back up the aisle together as their gathered friends applauded.
Dean found Cas milling about in the foyer and waved as he took up his position near the front of the receiving line next to Jess's younger sister. "Go get the car," Dean mouthed as the rest of the wedding guests began spilling out of the hall, overflowing with hugs and handshakes and a lot more friendly touching that Dean wanted to escape as soon as it was humanly possible.
"Big turnout," Cas commented blandly as Dean slid into the passenger seat of the rental car the better part of an hour later.
"Yeah, well. You know how the medical community is," Dean said dismissively as they pulled away from the curb, pulling up the GPS on his phone to navigate toward the reception. "Everybody knows everybody. At least no one from Summit or St. Luke's made a big deal about me being there." He glanced to the side. "Or you."
Cas snorted. "I wasn't around here long enough to be part of the community, and once we left, the drama disappeared. That's how it goes."
"I guess so." Dean's phone announced the approach of their freeway entrance. "Take this one. Should be five minutes from here."
Dean shifted, reaching up to tug at his bow tie and wishing he could undo it, but he doubted his ability to tie it again for the endless photography session he knew was coming. This car was too quiet to match the familiar scenery as it rolled by outside the windows; it should be accompanied by the dull roar of his engine and the vibration of his seat. That was how he'd always known this stretch of highway. This rental may have the same logo on its hood, but it was hardly an Impala.
"There's food at the reception?" Cas asked as he twisted briefly in his seat to check his blind spot before changing lanes.
"Yup. Good stuff. I helped pick it out." Dean cleared his throat. "Dancing, too."
"Is that so?" Cas glanced to the side at Dean for a moment, face studiously straight.
"Not that either of us would be interested."
"Of course not."
There was, indeed, food that was already being passed around on trays, small bites intended to tide the guests over until the wedding party arrived and the full meal could be served. Dean was buttonholed almost before he could procure a skewer of teriyaki chicken and he handed it mournfully off to Cas as the Maid of Honor whisked him off to one of the side gardens for wedding portraits.
"All right, now the groom and the Best Man," the photographer said, and everyone stepped to one side except Dean and Sam.
"How many more of these are you expecting?" Dean asked through his best smile. "My cheeks hurt and I'm starving."
"I hope not too many more," Sam replied as the camera flashed. "But I'm not in charge."
Sam's hopes were granted; after a few more terribly contrived group shots, they were all dismissed into the reception to a great deal of applause and cheering, no doubt, Dean suspected, because everyone knew the food would soon follow.
Some time later, as plates were cleared away, the unmarried women flocked to the dance floor for the ritual bouquet toss and the unmarried bachelors made a reluctant line to the side of the floor, knowing what fate awaited them. And it was no surprise that as the garter Sam flung at them sailed right over their heads, no one made any attempt to catch it, and in its momentum it clipped Cas on the side of the head halfway across the room.
"He didn't catch it," Dean insisted in a loud, good-natured response to the cheers of the guests as Cas bent to gingerly retrieve it from the ground and tossed it back toward the cluster on the dance floor. "It doesn't count!"
The pageantry over, the dance floor cleared as the music switched to Sam and Jess's first dance. As was quickly becoming their custom at any gathering, Dean and Cas hung to the side of the crowd, preferring to watch others enjoy themselves and retain their private corner away from the eyes and prying questions of other people.
"You know," Cas said thoughtfully as his eyes followed Sam and Jess on the dance floor, "I never thought I'd find myself wanting a wedding."
Dean had to stop himself from choking. "A wedding?" he asked, somewhat weakly. "With, like…tuxes and vows and blinky lights and everything?"
"Maybe not the blinky lights." Cas glanced to the side. "But…"
Dean swallowed. "I…can't even think about that kind of stuff until all this trial shit is cleared up," he said seriously. "If they're going to decide she's guilty and then try to charge us with accessory to murder, that would kind of throw a wrench in picking out china patterns."
Cas grinned, only slightly crestfallen. "You make a good point."
"But after." Dean returned his gaze to the dance floor as the song finished and Sam and Jess kissed. "After…we can talk about it."
"After," Cas agreed, reaching out to twine his fingers around Dean's.
"And after I finish nursing school," Dean added quickly.
"Right." Cas gave Dean's hand a squeeze.
"And pie instead of cake."
"And…what?" Cas turned his head to look questioningly at Dean.
"Just a thought." Dean grinned and brought his champagne flute up to his lips. His mind wandered to the corner of his sock drawer, where a small nondescript box contained a simple brushed titanium ring. It waited patiently for the right time, when Dean would take it out and put it in his pocket.
Because Dean knew exactly what his surgeon wanted, and would be ready when he needed it.