Chapter 11: Unnoticed Symptoms

One week later found things getting worse for Dean. John could tell. The days getting harder and harder on his son. Noticing a little things here and there that told him his oldest was not as well as he said he was.

After the night Dean had sneaked out of the bunker, and come back draped over his friend in a completely drunken episode, he'd made a point of watching his son more. But that was doing nothing more then showing him just why he would never want to have to go through alcohol withdrawals anytime soon. He'd heard this stuff was always hard to get through, he had just never seen it.

For started, Dean was prone to mood swings. He could be nice and laughing one moment, and then quiet and moody the next. He would be talking to his son, and it would feel like he was talking to the Dean he knew. The little boy that idolized him since he was old enough to walk. Then he would get quiet and argumentative. Confrontational with anything John said, which would cause John to yell back. The man was trying, but he was never known for having an even temper. It didn't help that Dean's anger could go from irritation to extreme rage in the matter of two seconds.

To John, it seemed like the roles had reversed between his children. Dean was the moody and defensive one. While Sam was the one to keep the peace. When Sam would get mad at John or Dean, he would do his best to take his time and explain what the problem was. John was doing his best to listen, and he was having an easier time with Sam's patient approach, then Dean's explosive one. It was like walking on egg-shells and glass at the same time.

Secondly, Dean was apparently having other issues. From his loss of appetite, which John knew was a bad sign. Since he was a child, Dean would eat anything put in front of him, provided there was enough for Sam as well. To the fevers that caused hallucinations. John not knowing what to do with that. He'd never had a kid so sick they where seeing things that couldn't be explained by supernatural means.

One minute, Dean would be fine, sitting there quietly. Then he would become violent. Turning over tables, and attacking lamps or furniture screaming about Demons. Sometimes even attacking one of them. Terrifying John even more when Dean seemed to think he was the Demon they had hunted through most of his childhood. He didn't want to hurt his son, but he had to keep himself from getting hurt as well. Otherwise he knew Dean was going to bury himself under a pile of guilt so extreme, it would take an entire year to get him out of it. In the end, he'd managed to disarm Dean, and lock him in his bedroom until he'd calmed down. Dean had sulked for a while after that, and apologized. But John couldn't shake the feeling that Dean believed he'd been treated like a child.

He also noticed that Dean had developed a bad case of shaking. He noticed it most at meals. Dean would be eating with them, then he would drop his fork or cup. Swearing, Dean would start to clean up his mess with the help of Sam or Castiel. All of them doing their best to not mention it or bring attention to it. He noticed when Dean would be reading and the book would be shaking so bad he wondered how the words weren't blurring in his vision.

In fact the only time Dean didn't seem to be shaking, was when he was doing some kind of exercise. Either running, or going through fighting drills. There he seemed to be fine. Even joking around with whoever he was sparing with.

But throughout all this, John noticed that Dean seemed to become increasingly dependent on his friend. Castiel had surprised John with how patient he seemed to be every time Dean lost control. He would sit quietly while Dean raged at him. He would listen when Dean needed someone to talk to. John walking on several of their conversations, but never hearing anything. They seemed to stop as soon as he entered the room, or switch the subject.

When Dean would have an hallucination, Castiel would grab him by the face and make him calm down by looking him in the eye. All while getting the crap beat out of him. But John did have to admire the guys tolerance for pain. He rarely flinched, and even went with Dean into the gym for a sparing session. Dean said it helped to calm him down. Dean even going so far as to drag Castiel away from whatever he was doing for a quick spar when he was about to have an anxiety attack or just needing some form of exercise.

John really worried about that. Dean seemed to be depending more on Castiel then him or Sam. Which he thought was just wrong. Your family are the ones that are supposed to be there for you, and they where. But Dean seemed to want to talk to Castiel, in John's opinion a complete stranger, more then he did anyone else.

"It's natural to gravitate to someone when your in Dean's situation." Sam had suggested when John had told him how he thought about it. "Sometimes it's easier when it's not family. Your not as worried about letting them down, or looking stupid or weak." He explained.

John supposed that made sense. He also thought maybe he was being a bit hard on Castiel. Sure he didn't know him very well. But he'd also hadn't been around for the past ten years, and Castiel had been working with his kids for at least half that time. They did know him quite a bit more, had already had the issues of not knowing his true intentions. John was paranoid of him because he was new, to him he'd just popped up out of nowhere and he was expected to trust him. But Dean and Sam had known him for years, gotten to know him. Who knows how long it was before they actually trusted him as much as Dean seemed to.

John supposed he could trust him more if he could just talk to the guy. But every conversation with him would give him a headache and make him unbelievably angry. John understood, Castiel was focusing more on Dean because of the current situation. He said it himself, he was here for moral support, for Dean. Every time he tried to talk to the guy, the conversations had been short, cut off by some emergency or something. But when they did talk, Castiel's answers where short, to the point. He didn't mince his words, and did not seem to understand sarcasm unless it was obvious. He also took things quite literally, and forgot that other people had emotions and tempers that he could very easily set off.

At first, John thought Castiel was just pulling his leg. Acting that way on purpose to tick him off. Nobody could be that weird, John had thought. But then he started to notice, that yes, someone could. He wasn't just speaking like that to John, he did it to Sam as well, and even Dean. Though with Dean, he seemed to remove the stick just a bit. John swore, he saw the guy smile once.

But his lack of social skills, no sense of humor, and literal thinking made John wonder just what kind of upbringing the guy had had. He'd mentioned that his parents where very religious, and John had found the name Castiel in one of the books in the library. Though why anybody would name their child after a lesser known Angel of Thursday, he had no idea. But that couldn't have been the only thing making him so uptight. Maybe the guy was trained by the FBI or CIA, or Hell, even Interpol. He had to have been in one of those for a time. If nothing else, his fighting proved that. He'd had to have had some intensive training in order to take Dean down as quickly as he'd done in some of their sparing sessions.

He looked over at Castiel, who was sitting in the library with him. Mindlessly turning the pages of yet another book he was reading. John didn't understand how he could read as much as he did. Let alone how he read half the languages in those books, most of them seemed to be written in dead or extinct languages. Whatever the guy was researching, he was going at it with a one-minded determinism that you didn't see in too many people. Back straight, head kept stiff, and eyes never leaving the pages except to grab another book.

"Do you need something?" Castiel had asked, never taking his eyes away from the apparently fascinating text he was looking over. He must have been staring and the guy could feel it. His patience seemed to be spent on Dean, and everyone else could deal with it.

"Nothing." John said quickly, he hated being caught. But then he thought of something. Looking at Castiel again, he asked. "So, how did you get Dean out of Hell?" He asked, internally smiling in triumph when he saw the surprised look Castiel had when he asked that question. It was good to see he could be caught off guard, he'd been way too calm for way to long.

Castiel did not answer right away, he seemed to be thinking over his answer. Slowly saving his place in his book to buy himself some time. He closed his book, took a moment to memorize the title before putting it to the side and looking John in the eye.

"A spell." He answered simply, looking John straight in the eye.

"A spell?" John asked skeptically. "It was really that easy?" He asked, not believing that for moment.

"No, it was not." Castiel answered, seemingly offended. "The spell was a difficult one to complete for one. A lot of the ingredients are rare, not exactly pleasant to get hold of. You needed bones, so you had to dig up graves. Then there was the internal organs of monsters, and blood of animals. Add the numerous illegal plants I had to find and carry. It was not easy, and that was just the first step." Castiel told him with a smug smile on his face. "The next step involved me going into Hell itself and finding Dean's soul. Now, I don't know if your aware, but he was on the racks and one of the most guarded there. It took a lot to get to him. Then I had to get us out of Hell, and put his body back together. Which involved another unpleasant spell and quite a bit of power. I wouldn't recommend it." He finished. He may have changed a few details, but it was the gist of what he'd done.

John listened as Castiel talked, it was by far the most he'd said in one sitting since John had met him. He had to admit, he'd been curious as to how to get someone out of Hell, and he was surprised Castiel had gone through all that without even knowing Dean. But Sam had said he'd needed them to help him with the Apocalypse. John wondered if he was the only one who knew about it. It would definitely coax a guy into doing something stupid to try and stop it, or at least get some help. But something still didn't seem quite right.

"How'd you come across a spell that powerful? Are you some kind of a witch?" John asked, he did not have a tolerance for witches. Regardless of intentions, they still sold there soul to Demons for their powers, and where not to be trusted.

"No, I read it in a book." Castiel answered easily, turning back to his book. Letting John know, in his own way, that the conversation was over.

John decided it wasn't a good idea to push at the moment. He didn't know the guy well enough, and as far as he could tell. The guy was going to stay no matter what, and he did not want to have to deal with that awkwardness. Not at the moment at least.

He looked back down at the book Sam had suggested he read. John didn't understand why he would suggest a book about Angels, but apparently, they had just as much power as Demons. They could bring people back from the dead, and a number of other things. Though John didn't think it was Angels who brought him back. From what he could tell, they mostly kept to themselves. Not concerned with possessing people or causing any kind of problems.

Fuck it, he'd figure that out another day.

Dean waited at the door of the gym. He wanted a spar and he was ready to grab anyone who walked by. He'd tried just working on some weight lifting and hitting a punching bag. But the weights had no warmth, and the bag didn't punch back. Therefore, it was not as satisfying as fighting with Sam or Castiel, or even those guys at the bar.

He'd eventually come clean to Sam about that, the fight, not the other bit, and ended getting the book handed to him from his brother. Sam let him know he was not impressed with his actions, and made it a point to keep a closer eye on his brother. Making it so much harder on Dean to get some alone time with Castiel to talk. Every time they did get a chance, they would be interrupted by his dad. Someone Dean really thought should be kept in the dark.

This caused Dean to come up with some creative ways of getting his friend alone with him. He wanted to figure out just what it was they had, and they couldn't do that with everybody else hanging around. They had only shared that first kiss in the bar, and again in his room when he'd tried to make a move on him. Neither of those where exactly spectacular.

He smiled when he noticed someone walking down the hall. By the build of the guy, he could tell it was Castiel, and he was alone. Score!

Dean moved further into the door and out of sight. He waited just inside, listening to the footsteps in the hall get closer. When they where even with the door, he stuck out his hand, grabbing hold of the man's shirt and pulling him in. Dean smiled at the surprised look Castiel was giving him and started to throw him down on the floor.

However, Castiel was quick and skilled. So the only one to hit the floor was Dean, and Castiel had managed a kind of flip that broke Dean's grip and he scurried back to his feet. Ready for Dean's next attack. Not being one to disappoint, Dean swept his legs out to Castiel's to trip him up. His aim struck true, but Castiel managed to catch himself on his hands and rolling back up to his knees.

Dean wasn't going to let him keep the upper hand if he had his way, and got up to his knees as well. If it's a wrestling match he wants, it's a wrestling match he'll get. He thought, diving at Castiel and catching him around the middle and pushing him to knock him over. But Castiel was like a wall, and would not be budged. Holding firm, and grabbing Dean's arms to throw him over his shoulder.

Dean landed on his hands and knees and pushed himself up to his feet. Castiel doing the same, and getting into a position to defend against any one of Dean's attacks. Smiling, because the guy just looked so confident, Dean threw a punch in Castiel's direction. He was expecting Castiel to be able to dodge it, or for him to grab the fist, which is what he did. But Dean had other plans and hooked his leg behind Castiel's knee and pulling, taking him down to the ground. Dean landing on him and straddling his waist.

"Told you I'd get you one day." Dean said, leaning down an inch from Castiel's face and smiling.

"Congratulations." Castiel said, with a smile of his own. Then raising his head and pecking his lips to Dean's.

Dean looked down at his friend in surprised confusion. Yes, they had admitted that they liked each other. Had talked about it quite a bit afterwards, trying to erase any confusion that might be there. But they hadn't done anything else, and Dean always thought it would be him to make the first move. But Castiel had apparently gotten impatient.

Smiling Dean leaned his head down and pressed his lips down to Castiel's in a more satisfying kiss. Castiel's lips pliant and accepting, pressing back to Dean's in return. He felt a tongue trace across his lips and opened them up to accept Castiel's tongue, darting in and make a sweep around his mouth. Dean lifted his own tongue and rubbed it along Castiels, tasting what he could while it seemed Castiel was determined to taste every bit of his mouth.

The need for air eventually getting the better of Dean, however, and he had to pull away. He rested his forehead against Castiel's panting. The stupid bastard wasn't even breathing hard. He looked down at the smile on Castiel's face and decided that maybe that was a good thing. It would definitely come in handy in other areas.

Castiel raised his head back up and pressed his lips to Dean's. Who responded eagerly once he'd caught his breath, pushing himself down on Castiel so they where chest to chest. Before he felt hands on his shoulders. He was then turned over on his back, getting the wind knocked out of him with the impact. He looked up to find Castiel standing on his feet again, holding out a hand to help him up.

"You are one sneaky son of a bitch." Dean said, accepting the hand, letting Castiel pull him up. He smile at him and leaned down to give him another peck on the lips before he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He quickly took a step away from Castiel, and positioned himself for another round.

Castiel rolled his eyes, then moved into his own stance, waiting for Dean to attack. Dean smiled before moving forward, then stopping to send a kick in Castiel's direction. Castiel ducked under the leg and moved behind Dean quickly before grabbing him around the neck. Dean grabbed onto the arm, and bent at the waist, using what leverage he could to pull Castiel over his shoulder and onto his back.

They heard clapping from the door to see Sam watching them. He was wearing loose fitting sweats with a white T-shirt, telling Dean he had come to work out. Probably weightlifting, or core training, or maybe even Yoga. Dean could totally see Sam coming in here alone to bend himself around with deep breathing, in his attempts to be 'healthy'.

"So, are you two finished, or should I come back later?" Sam asked, looking between the two of them.

"Nah. I think we're done for the day." Dean answered, walking to the door and patting his brother on the back.

"Oh, yeah. You floor me twice, and suddenly that's all you need." Castiel stated sarcastically. He pushed himself up off the floor and walked to the door as well.

"You guys are welcome to join me in Yoga if you want." Sam offered, stretching out his arms and back. Dean had to stifle a chuckle, he knew it.

"Well, that's real tempting there Sammy." Dean said, taking a moment to yawn. "But, I think I'm gonna have to pass." He answered, sending a cheeky smile at his brother. Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother in disapproval before turning back into the room.

Castiel stood at the end of the hall, watching him. He kept his face neutral, but Dean could see the starting of an eye roll.

"Would it really hurt you so much if you do something outside of fighting." Castiel asked as Dean walked past him.

"Hell yes." Dean answered simply, looking around the corner, then back at the gym. No sign of John or Sam. He walked closer to Castiel and pressed him against the wall, before connecting their lips for a fourth time.

He kept if chaste, but he made sure Castiel could feel everything he put into it. He felt it when Castiel returned the kiss for a brief moment before pushing Dean back.

"We should really talk." Castiel suggested, looking at Dean with his clear blue eyes.

"I know." Dean said, nodding his head. He knew they needed to talk, he knew they needed to sit down and have an actual full conversation with Castiel about what they where. "But where? We don't get a moment of privacy between Dad and Sam." He asked, looking around, as if saying their names would summon them to that spot. He looked back at Castiel, who looked to be thinking.

"Tonight." Castiel suggested. "After everyone has gone to sleep. We can meet at the Impala." He planned.

"Now your speaking my language." Dean said, giving Castiel another kiss.

"We can talk there. It's private, and we would see anybody coming before they could hear what we where saying." Castiel explained, pushing Dean away a bit so he could get away from the wall. "Until then, we go on as usual." He suggested.

"Yeah." Dean agreed. It seemed like the best place, Dean wasn't about to turn down a private meet-up in his baby. He wanted this with Castiel, he wanted to be able to touch him, hold him. But he couldn't do it as much as he wanted and keep it away from his family. He was glad Castiel seemed to catch on about keeping this thing between them, but he wanted to explain himself. It was hard to do so when every time they talked there was someone else there. "Tonight."

Castiel nodded, then took a few more steps away as Dean could hear John walking by. He turned around and leaned against the wall in what he hoped was a casual way. His father's walking stopped when he saw them standing there, and gave Dean a questioning look.

"What's going on?" John asked, looking between the two of them.

"Nothing." Dean answered quickly. "Just discussing what we wanted for lunch. Grilled cheese sound good?" He asked, walking past his father.

"Sure." John answered, turning to walk with his son. "I help you with that." He said. Dean could hear the suspicion in his voice, and hoped that he could keep himself cool through the rest of the day.

Woohoo! Now we are getting somewhere. I am almost certain that there will not be another chapter until next weekend, but I have it written. My funk seems to be over, so that's good. I can read again! That doesn't mean I am abandoning my writing, I know I have to keep that going.

I hope you liked it, It's just a couple more chapters before we get to some of the sexy goodness. Until next time.