Chapter 5:

Dean woke up with an extremely intense headache. The resounding pounding in his head making him groan and turn over. Why did he feel so bad? For the life of him, he couldn't remember very well, but he smelt gun powder residue on his hands and shirt. He'd apparently fallen asleep last night without changing.

Getting up slowly, he stretched his arms high above his head, hearing a several pops from his back and shoulders. Wincing slightly, he stood up and went to his closet in search of something to wear.

"That can't be good for your back." He heard from behind him, causing him to slam his hand on the door in irritation.

"Damn it Cas, how many times have I told you not to do that. It's creepy." Dean said, turning around to glare at his friend who was sitting innocently in a chair across the room, faced towards the bed.

"I was concerned about you." Castiel admitted, continuing to stare at his friend. "After you emptied several clips into the paper representations of humans in the gun room, you reduced a punching bag into rags and sand."

"That was real? I thought it was some crazy dream." Dean said, picking an old T-shirt. He may as well try to get some exercise to work off some of this energy he's got built up, before he takes a shower.

"It was real, yes. As where the events that happened before that." Castiel answered, watching Dean as he went about collecting his work-out clothes.

"Great." Dean said sarcastically. "Fucking wonderful. This is going to be a great fucking day. No wonder my mind is telling me to go back to sleep." Dean ranted, throwing his clothes on his bed. "Now do you mind, I know you like to get your freak on by watching me sleep, but it's a bit uncomfortable while your in the room while I'm changing."

"Of course." Castiel agreed, getting up and walking to the door.

"Oh, and hey." Dean said, turning around. "Could you meet me in the sparing room?" He asked with a hopeful look.

"Of course." Castiel said, nodding with a small smile.

John sat at the table in the kitchen, head held in his hands. Sam had gone to bed hours ago. John figuring he'd had enough sleep, ten years worth apparently. From the sound of it, he had a lot to make up for too. His boys had been through too much in the past decade.

He looked up when he heard footsteps behind him. Looking around him, he saw that his boy's friend had walked in. Did he ever take that coat off?

"Good morning." Castiel spoke, John noticing just how deep and gravely his voice was. He was a bit surprised, that voice didn't seem like it should be matched with that face and slim body type.

"Morning." John greeted, watching Castiel grab the coffee pot, and clean it out before starting the process of making coffee. "So, where did you take my son last night, when you disappeared with him?"

"The gun room." Castiel answered flatly.

"So there is a gun room?" John asked, looking behind him to the cavernous hallways that lead deeper into the place.

"Yes." Castiel answered, turning on the machine and getting a mug ready with sugar and milk.

"Do you ever say more then one or two words at the time?" John asked, looking at Castiel as if he thought he was playing with him.

"Sometimes." Castiel answered, not bothering to look at John, to pre-occupied by his task.

"Boy..." John started, before hearing a burst of laughter from the hall to Dean's room. He turned around, to see his oldest with a smile on his face. "Something funny here Dean?"

"Oh, just the headache that is talking to Cas." Dean said, stretching out his arms. John seeing just why this guy was someone that Dean considered a friend. They where both smart-asses, one was just less obvious then the other. Dean then looked to his friend. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, do you want some coffee first?" Castiel asked, indicating the cup and half-full coffee pot.

"Nah. Too much energy, coffee will only make me edgy and cranky at this point. I need to work this off, so let's go." Dean said, heading down another hall.

"Where you going?" John asked, as Castiel took off his coat and followed Dean further into the bunker.

"Just some exercise, you don't need to follow." Dean said, not turning around to answer his father, but continuing on his course.

John could take the hint. At the moment, his son was upset with him. He could understand that. Dean had made it clear last night that he was mad at him, and it was justified. If not about most of the stuff that had happened, Adam was a big one that sprang to his mind. He didn't think he would ever forgive himself for that. He already hated himself for what his son's had gone through because he was obsessed with revenge.

He knew no one paid more for his obsession then the monsters he killed and his children. Especially Dean. He could very well have scarred his children for life, hell, he knew he did. But he had been given another chance, he didn't know why. He also had come to the conclusion, based on what Sam had told him last night, the shit would hit the fan eventually. Until that happened, he should make the best of the situation, and make up for all the crap he'd dumped on his kids while he could.

Dean shouldn't have to go to some other person for moral support during a difficult time. That was his family's job. Sure he didn't have much, but John could at least provide some help. He should be able to help more then some guy he hadn't met until five or so years ago.

'I can help my own damn son.' John thought, standing up and following the direction Dean and Castiel had gone. Regretting immediately that he hadn't taken the time last night to explore. He had no idea where he was, or what hall they went down. He thought he could go down the same hall they did, but then the hall started branching off.

He kept his ears open, hoping to hear some kind of sound of were they had gone. But the halls where so old and cavernous, they echoed. He was having a hard time pin-pointing the different noises, and the very silence seemed to create a white noise all it's own. Making it harder for him to hear the other noises. He opened several doors, but found nothing more then boxes and furniture. He thought he had found the gun room, when he came across a large concrete room that housed a variety of guns and the walls had holes in them. Along with several paper targets.

Making a mental note of all the twist and turns he took to get to this room. He left and went deeper into the bunker. He continued down, taking halls at random, peeking his head in every so often. Sam had told him this place had plenty of room, and he wasn't kidding. He had found several storage rooms, and a few bed rooms. He finally thought he was hearing something that he was looking for when he heard grunting.

He followed the noise down a hall, into another room that was lined with pads. The remains of a punching bag lay in the corner, yet to be cleaned up, while a new hung on the opposite corner. There was a few weights and dun-bells hung on the walls, placed out of the way to prevent someone tripping on them and getting injured. In the center of the room was his son, shirt drenched in sweat, trading deadly maneuvers with Castiel who seemed to be completely composed and not even out of breath.

He nearly ran at them when he watched Castiel grab a kick that Dean had attacked with in mid-air. Then used Dean's surprise to kick out his other foot, making him land on his stomach before Castiel was on top of him. Keeping hold of his foot, and twisting one of his arms around in a painful angle, but making sure not to cause injury and break anything. The man used his knee to apply pressure to Dean's back, keeping him grounded.

"You know, one of these days, I'm gonna get you." Dean shot from his position, face down on the floor. John could see the smile on his face.

"If it helps you sleep at night." Castiel said, releasing Dean from his hold, and rolling over to lie down on the ground with Dean as he turned over. "You feeling any better?"

"Oh, yeah. That helped. Thanks man." Dean said, slapping a hand on his friends chest. Dean then stood up, groaning at his aching muscles. "Now, I think is a good time for coffee and breakfast." He said, stretching and turning towards the door, catching sight of his father.

"You getting soft?" John asked. Looking at his son with a small smirk.

"Considering your version of soft is anything less then perfection, then probably." Dean answered, walking out of the room. Castiel watching him go with a look of disappointment. Or at least, that's what John thought it was. The guy didn't seem to have much in the way of expression.

"How long is he gonna keep avoiding me?" John asked, pointing in the direction Dean had gone. He was used to walking on egg shells around Sam, but it seems now, the roles have reversed and he was going to have to do so with Dean.

"Until he absolves a few issues within himself." Castiel answered. "But, if there is anything I've learned about Dean over the past few years." He said with a small smile on his face. "He'll will always forgive in the end. He will somehow find the strength."

"Yeah, he has more of his mother in him then he would likely know." John said, watching his son walk down the hall.

"Oh, he knows. Even still, it will most likely take him a couple weeks, or months." Castiel said, leaving John alone in the room.

John watched them walk away for a moment, Castiel catching up with Dean quickly as he was not quite as worn out. He decided to give them a few minutes before he followed. His son obviously needed to take him in doses, and come to him. But, realistically, he'll probably only put up with it for a couple of days before his temper gets the better of him. He took a couple of hits on the punching bag to alleviate some of this stress that was already building up in him. When he finally started to follow them, he was not expecting to run into Sam.

"Morning." Sam said, opening a door that led into a bedroom. John took in the jogging suit and the headphones.

"Morning." John greeted. Noticing that Sam's room was kept virtually spotless through the crack, and that there was only one bed. He found himself happy that at least a few things where still constant. "You and Dean certainly took the opportunity to spread yourselves out, huh?"

"You could say that." Sam said. "Did you find a room, okay?"

"Nah, but I didn't really look." John answered.

"Well, maybe after breakfast, we can find one and clean it out. Get you some of your own stuff." Sam suggested. "That is, if you plan on staying."

"I had planned on it." John answered, noticing Sam's look of surprise.

"Good, then we can work on getting what you need later. I think Dean's making breakfast." Sam informed, stepping into his room to get a change of clothes before taking a shower.

John watched his son walk away to what he assumed where the showers, and continued down the hall. He came out to the main area, where the smell of bacon hit his nose. The idea of food lifting his spirits slightly. He walked into the kitchen, surprised to see his oldest standing at a stove, actually cooking. Sure, in the past, Dean would attempt to cook something every now and then at Bobby's. But while on the road, the extent of his culinary skills equaled nothing more then can soup, a sandwich, cereal, or Marconi and cheese with the occasional can of chili poured in.

Dean seemed to be setting a few plates with bacon, before stirring something in a bowl that looked suspiciously like scrambled eggs. Castiel was sitting at the table, sipping on a cup of coffee that was steaming slightly.

"Morning again son." John started, while Dean didn't even look up. John shrugged to himself, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning, you want something to eat with that?" Dean said, handing him a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Yes, thank you." John said, taking the plate and walking to the table as Dean turned around.

"Hey, Cas, you going to eat anything?" Dean asked, looking to his friend.

"I believe I will Dean." Castiel answered with a grateful nod. Receiving one in return from Dean, and getting a plate in front of him.

"Good, you should." Dean said, pointing an accusatory finger at Castiel, as if berating him for starving himself.

"I don't see the point in over indulging." Castiel reminded, as Dean sat down another plate for Sam, then brought his coffee and breakfast to the table.

"Well, you should still eat bacon, because it's awesome, and you haven't lived until you tried it." Dean stated, then, as if to prove his point, took a bite of the piece he was holding.

"Hmm." Castiel answered him, then picking up his own piece. "You know, in some cultures, it is considered a sin to eat bacon, and many people go their entire lives without ever consuming a single piece of it." He lectured, before taking a bite out himself, and letting out a pleased noise of surprise.

"See, what I tell you." Dean said with a self-satisfied smile. "And do you honestly think that I give a rat's ass about sinning? Really Cas, when have you seen me care about that?" He asked, bringing a smile to Castiel.

"I suppose you don't really. After all, the unique adventures you took me on in the past few years would definitely prove your point." Castiel amended, a rolling his eyes at the memories.

"I'm guessing you guys have some very unique adventures?" John asked, sending his son a confused look. "He doesn't really seem like a party animal?"

"The Apocalypse was definitely a most adventurous time. Dean taught me a lot of new things." Castiel offered.

"Dude, you had a permanent stick up your ass. I had to find some ways to loosen you up, and look, it worked." Dean defended, before adding. "To a certain extent."

"What are we talking about?" Sam asked, coming in and pouring himself a cup of coffee before sitting down to eat.

"Dean taking Cas on wild parties and adventures. I'm sure you where with them as well." John answered, as Sam sent his brother a glare.

"Dean, you did not tell him about Cas' bender did you?" Sam reproached, glaring at his brother.

"No, but thank you for saving me the trouble." Dean grinned.

"You went out on a bender?" John asked, looking at his son disbelievingly. To his credit, Dean did look slightly guilty.

"No, he took himself on one. I just taught him how to drink away your problems." Dean defended himself, and pointing at Castiel.

"In his defense, he didn't even know about it." Castiel pointed out helpfully. "Though my first drink did come out of that den of inequity you took me to." He said, making Sam and John spit out their coffee.

"Dude, not helping." Dean yelled at him.

"What?" Sam asked, looking at his brother.

"Sam, why would you let your brother do that?" John asked, turning to his youngest. "How would you even know where to find one?" He asked, turning to his oldest.

"I didn't." Sam defended. "I don't even remember that. Why do I not remember that Dean?" He snarled at his brother.

"It was after War. You know, when you went on your journey of self-enlightenment. I still needed a partner, and Cas helped me out." Dean answered, going back to his breakfast. Sam still staring at his brother, making Dean stop. "What?"

"How exactly does that translate into you taking CAS to a whore house?" Sam snapped, not giving his brother a chance to bail out on explaining himself.

"In defense, I did tell Dean, there was a big chance that I would not survive through the next day." Castiel attempted to help again. Dean slapped his hand on his head.

"So, your response was to take him out to get him laid?" Sam admonished. "I can't even comprehend what could have been going through your mind."

"I was thinking that my best friend planned on dying the next day, and that I should at least let him have a good time before he does." Dean defended himself. "I mean, come on. The guy was still a virgin for crying out loud. I thought I could give him a chance to the see the best things about being human." Dean continued, getting worked up and annoyed.

John didn't know what to think about this conversation. He was also lost as to when to jump in. He did always enjoy watching his sons when they got into their own little world. He was glad to see that they where still just as close. Even if his oldest did inhabit a morally grey area. Which he was uncertain how to feel about that.

"Can we please stop this conversation. It's making me uncomfortable." Castiel asked, getting Sam and Dean's attention.

"Yeah, of course." Sam said, turning back to his breakfast.

"Sorry Cas." Dean apologized. Taking another drink of coffee to hide his shame. John watched as his boys went back to their breakfast. He was a bit surprised by their quick reaction to their friend. He seemed to fit in with the them that exist now, rather then who they where when he died. Dean and Castiel especially seemed to have their own special kind of bond.

But the guy was just so stiff. That was something that he still found a bit odd. In his experience, no one was that still and calm at all times. He'd had to go through some serious training. Maybe he was ex-CIA or FBI or something. He'd have to keep an eye on that.

As always, hope you liked.