Warning: This chapter contains homophobic slurs, and swearing.

Chapter 13: An Outing

The next morning found John in an argument with Sam. He suggested going out on a family hunt, and was even looking for some. Sam, however, thought it was a bad idea and absolutely refused.

"No, no. Absolutely no hunting until Dean is better." Sam stated, shaking his head.

"He wants out of this place, and I don't blame him. It would be an easy one." John argued back. "Just something to get his mind off everything. He'd be with us, we could watch him." He said, trying to convince his youngest.

"Dad." Sam said, reproachfully. "He's not in any condition to do even the simplest of hunts. You've seen him right. I don't know if your aware of this, but if someone's having hallucinations it's a bad idea put them in front of something that can use that. Let alone the fact that he can barely hold a gun straight." He stated, the last thing Dean needed was a hunt. That would involve killing, and feeding the mark.

"Then what if he just does research and we go out to kill the thing?" John suggested, gesturing to the papers scattered around him.

"And what do you think is going to happen when we leave him alone to kill the damn thing?" Sam asked annoyed.

"That's why we take the car." John supplied with a smile.

"Hello, Dad, taxi's. Plus, there are going to be several bars and alcohol stores in the area of motel rooms. There always is. He could just as easily walk to one of those." Sam countered, his face growing harder at his fathers pigheadedness.

"Then we can take him, but make him sit in the car." John argued, trying to find a solution. Sam stopped to stare at his father disbelievingly.

"Do you honestly think Dean's going to go for that?" Sam asked, incredulously. "He's thirty-five, not twelve. He'll just walk out and do whatever the Hell he wants and ignore us when we tell him not to." He shot back. John had to admit, Sam had a point. Dean always had a rebellious streak, but it showed it's self mostly to teachers and cops. He always listened to his father, but John wasn't sure he would do that at all anymore. Dean's personality had been jumping around quite a bit lately. Some days friendly, and others a royal pain.

"Fine." John conceded. "No hunting." He sighed, he had tried, and his youngest had been able to counter everything. "Then what about going out to a movie or something?" He asked.

"Now that's do able." Sam said, calming down and sitting across from his father at the table. "But Dean's been having issues with headaches and dizzy spells. So maybe something else." He reasoned, pulling one of the papers towards himself.

John thought about that for a moment. He was upset about not being able to hunt, but he understood why. Maybe later, when Dean's feeling better, or he could take care of one close by. He was going crazy sitting here as well. But hunting wasn't possible at the moment. Dean only really had two passions, hunting and cars. Then John thought of something.

"Well, you did say that Dean wanted to fix up some of those old cars in the garage." John suggested, thinking. "Maybe we could figure out what parts they need, and go around to some junkyards to collect them."

"That might work, and it would distract Dean for a few days." Sam agreed. "Give him a job to do, and take his mind off things. While getting his hands dirty." He added, flipping through the paper for advertisements in auto-parts stores. It would also keep John distracted as well, meaning it would give Sam more time to help Castiel with researching ways of getting rid of the mark. He knew that needed to be done, but John had hardly left him alone. Unless he was watching Dean, and he was full of questions.

"Alright. I'm going to go look at the cars, see what we need." John said, getting up and heading to the garage with a piece of paper in his hands.

As it turned out, the cars didn't need much. A few parts a piece that had just gone to rust with age and disrepair, and a lot of tinkering. Each car would take a few days, if they paced themselves. Of which he was rather glad for, it would give them both something to do together. Maybe reconnect, he missed his son. The one he knew, the joker with the womanizing smile.

He wrote down the parts he needed and went back to the kitchen to see Sam standing over the oven. He continued on to Dean's room and let himself in, announcing himself as he opened the door. He did remember that his son had a habit of hiding daggers under his pillow and didn't want to surprise him. Lest he get a knife at his throat.

Dean was laying with his blankets bundled at foot of the bed, on his stomach and his hand under the pillow. John couldn't help but think, that when he slept, he almost looked the age that he'd last seen him. Twenty-seven and full of life, but no less ready for anything.

"Morning Dean." He said, raising his voice enough to wake his son, but not enough to scare him. Dean lifted himself up slowly, not at the least surprised to see his father in his room. Telling John he'd heard him come in.

"What?" Dean asked, raising himself to his feet and walking to his closet.

"Need an early start. Sam's making breakfast, and we have a lot of places to go today." John said with a smile.

"Oh really." Dean said disbelievingly. "And where would that be?"

"Oh, a few junk yards, auto-body and parts stores." John said offhandedly. "Then I thought we could spend the next few days working on those cars you got out there." He said, with a flourish, expecting Dean to say something positive.

"Alright." Dean yawned. "Give me a few minutes." He said, pulling out his clothes, and walking out of his room.

John rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. Maybe he just needed some coffee in him before he showed some emotion. John knew he was similar once he got to a certain age. Dean was in his thirties now, he was bound to be experiencing some of the set backs of age. Especially with as hard as his life had been.

He came back into the kitchen to find Castiel sitting at the table talking with Sam. A paper open in his hands, and a cup of coffee next to him. He took a seat as Sam was telling Castiel the plan for the day.

"Are you going to come?" Sam asked, John internally flinching. He knew Sam was trying to be polite, but he was kind of hoping this could be a family thing. He wanted sometime alone with his children without having to worry about the guy butting in.

"No." Castiel answered with an appreciative smile. "I believe I will stay here. I was never interested in cars." He finished, turning back to his paper.

"What kind of man is not interested in cars?" John asked, looking at Castiel as if he'd grown a second head. He never understood that in certain guys. He had loved cars since he was a child, learned everything he could about them. No man wasn't interested in cars, unless he was a fag or something.

"I'm not really interested in cars." Sam confessed, sitting down a few plates with some fruit and and toast on them. "What I do know is purely because I have to."

"Well, you where always more into books." John reasoned, looking at his son.

"So is Cas." Dean said, walking in and sitting down next to Castiel. "Machinery is not his interest, it's learning things about monsters and ghost. He's always been like that, and hardly ever had a reason to worry about cars."

"What's gonna happen when he's stranded on the road with a flat tire, then?" John asked. "Are you going to bail him out. You could be on the other side of the country when that happens."

"Just because I'm not interested, doesn't mean I don't know how to fix them." Castiel stated calmly, saving Dean the trouble of doing so himself. "I know how to do many things if the opportunity so presents itself."

"Reading it in a book isn't the same as doing." John shot back, taking a bite of toast.

"I didn't read it in a book." Castiel stated, taking a sip of coffee. Not sparing a single glance at John. "I learned it by doing so with my own hands." He explained. John could see Dean smiling at him, with a touch of pride in his eyes.

"Whatever." John said, he was tired of arguing with the guy. What's more, the guy was always so damn calm. John could never get a read on him.

They finished eating quickly, the only words spoke where those of pleasantries, and nothing else. When finished, they cleaned up, and put things away. John over hearing Dean ask Castiel if he would be alright by himself. John rolled his eyes, the man wasn't a child. Dean should be the one they worried about. He had enough on his plate, and didn't need to be bothered worrying about him. He sighed when Castiel said he would be fine, and that Dean should go and enjoy himself.

They left quickly after that, Dean having to run back in to get a jacket before meeting them at the car. Sam asking if he was feeling well, after all it was nice out, a bit warm for a jacket. He asked Dean if he thought he was coming down with something. But Dean just shrugged it off and said it was just in case, before starting the car and pulling out.

Dean was happy he was getting out of the bunker, don't get him wrong. He'd been coped up for days, and needed a break. He just wished is was with someone else, or by himself.

Sam was watching him like he could loose it any minute.

He had been intending to get to those cars eventually, so he supposed the errand was a good one. Give him an excuse to hide himself in the garage when somebody was bothering him. They needed the parts, and it was a good time to work on them. If he wasn't allowed to hunt after all, he may as well get his hands dirty in some way.

But it lasted a lot longer then he thought it would. Taking most of the day to track down a few of the parts they needed. They ended up having lunch at a diner in town, and Dean may have been given the number of the waitress who served them. John and Sam watching him, teasing him for the next hour about being an old pervert. The chick was barely in her twenties. He couldn't do much while under the scrutiny of his brother and father, but he managed to excuse himself at the next garage to throw it away. He was flattered but not interested.

It was nightfall before they made it back to the bunker, and Dean couldn't be more happy to see it. Maybe he'd been stuck there for so many days, leaving was exhausting, and he was ready to stop when he got back.

When he entered the main area of the bunker to tell Castiel they where back, it was to a great deal of smoke and the smell of something burning. Dean ran into the kitchen to find Castiel standing at the stove waving his hands around, trying to clear it of smoke. There where no flames, which made his heart rate drop considerably. But Castiel's face was blackened by smoke, and mysterious things where sitting on top of the stove.

"What the Hell?" Dean asked to Castiel, who looked harassed and guilty at the same time.

"I tried to cook dinner." Castiel explained, looking at the wrecked remains of what he had attempted. Dean just laughed and walked to the stove, taking stock of what he saw. Castiel had apparently attempted to make some kind of fish, or chicken. He couldn't tell.

"Tried to cook what exactly?" Dean asked, looking down at the other pots and pans.

"Fish and rice." Castiel answered simply. "I remembered that most meats take awhile to cook, so I thought I could walk away for a moment. When I got back, there was smoke everywhere. In my haste to take care of the smoke, the rice started to burn as well." He explained, not meeting Dean in the eyes as John and Sam walked in. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Hey don't worry about it." Dean said, walking up to Castiel and patting him on the shoulder. "But here's a few tips, alright. One, don't walk away, unless it's just to go to the bathroom or something. Then, turn the heat down. Two, fish doesn't take as long as most meats, so you don't have to have the heat up so high. Three, rice needs water, and lots of it." He said with a small smile. "If you want, I can show you a few things tomorrow." He suggested, pulling a small smile from Castiel.

"What the Hell." John said, looking at what was on the stove.

"It's nothing." Dean said, turning to his father. "Just a little cooking mishap. Nothing that can't be cleaned up. No harm done." He said, patting Castiel's shoulders, and picking up a pot to empty it out in the trash.

Castiel took it from Dean when offered, and put it in the sink. He put some soap in and filled it up with hot water before grabbing a sponge and using the rough side to clean it. Dean took the next one and threw away the contents of that as well. Then placed it in the hot water to soak while Castiel cleaned the other one. He then grabbed another pot from the cabinets to make something else.

"You need any help, Dean?" John asked, watching the proceedings.

"Nah, I got it." Dean said, starting some water to boil. Pasta was quick and easy, so he figured he would do that. He pulled some rigatoni out of the cabinets and a store bought sauce, then looked over to Castiel who was scrubbing the pot as if it had personally offended him. John had walked out, to do who knows what, and they where alone.

He walked over to Castiel and put his hands on his shoulders. Rubbing them down his arms for comfort. He doubled checked the room before placing a quick peck on the nape of Castiel's neck. Placing his hands on Castiel's, he made him look up.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, turning Castiel's head to face his. Castiel sighed, looking back down at the pot, and resuming his scrubbing. "Cas?" He prompted, before Castiel put the pot back in the water.

"Your father thinks I'm useless, as well as dangerous." Castiel stated, not looking up from his chore that was now at the bottom of the sink. "And I can't do something as simple as cooking. Something human's have been doing since they where walking up right." He said, picking the pot back up and renewing his task with vigor. "How could I let this happen. I used to work at a Gas'n'Sip. I had to cook, I should be able to do this."

"Hey." Dean said, stilling Castiel's hands. "Relax, what you did at Gas'n'Sip was completely different then actual cooking. No body's good when they first start out. It takes practice. I'll teach you tomorrow, you'll be fine. If you want to help me cook every night, until your comfortable doing it on your own. I wounldn't say no to the company." He said, looking around again before wrapping his arms around Castiel's hips and pulling him in closer.

"I'd like that." Castiel agreed, leaning his head back on Dean's shoulder and looking up. "But I am sorry about this mess." He said, looking back into the now black water of the sink.

"Hey, your the one cleaning it up. So I'm not fussed about it." He said, kissing Castiel on the cheek before heading to the stove to see if the water was boiling yet. He put a few drops of oil into the water to prevent the noddles from sticking, then let it sit another few minutes to boil.

Dinner was a quick meal, everybody eating their pasta, and cleaning up. Castiel's burned dishes sitting in the drainer, gleaming. He had evidently taken his frustrations with himself out on the burns. They watched a movie when finished, working on catching their father up on cinematic masterpieces. Dean thankful that it wasn't a marathon again.

Castiel had left halfway through the second action movie their where watching. Saying he was going to bed. Sam and John waved him off with out much thought, and continued to watch the movie. Dean waited another thirty minutes before getting up himself.

"What?" Sam asked, when Dean stated he as going to bed. "But it's The Bourne Identity. You love that movie." He said, watching Dean walk out of the room.

"I'm just not feeling it today." Dean said, stopping in the doorway and gesturing to the T.V. "Besides, the best parts have already happened." He said, walking out and heading to his room. Hoping that once this movie was over, they would go to sleep.

He had awhile to wait, he discovered, poking his head out in search of noise. They had apparently decided to watch the whole trilogy, keeping them up way into the night and early morning. He laid in his bed, waiting for the sound to cut out, and for his father's footsteps to come by before he got up again.

Making sure his father was out of the area, and no one else was around. He shifted out of his room and quietly shut his door. He tip-toed down the hall a few steps, and stopped at Castiel's door. He placed his ear up to the door, looking for signs of life inside. Hearing nothing, he turned the knob slowly.

Opening the door quietly, he stuck his head in a moment to look. Castiel was sitting up in his bed, book open, and laying on his lap. He looked up at Dean's entry and smiled.

"Hello Dean." Castiel said, sitting straighter in his bed, and gesturing Dean to come in. He walked in, closing the door slowly, trying not to make a sound. Looking around the room, he noticed that Castiel hadn't made it his own much, just kept it impossibly clean somehow. Aside from the books on the desk, Dean wasn't sure he would know anyone lived there.

He walked further inside and sit down on the bed at Castiel's invitation. Sitting crossed legged in front of him. Castiel had marked his place in the book and closed it, putting it on the nightstand next to him.

"So, how did your day go?" Castiel asked, with genuine interest.

"Okay, I guess. Not much arguing if that's what your asking." Dean answered, leaning against the wall comfortably. "But otherwise, pretty smooth. Though I had hoped you'd come, be a buffer." He suggested, Castiel rolling his eyes.

"It's obvious your father doesn't like me." Castiel stated uninterested. "I thought it rude to impose myself on him more then needed. Especially when he doesn't want me around." He answered, leaning forward to look Dean in the eyes.

"He'll warm up to you." Dean stated surely. "If he doesn't, it doesn't matter. I like you, and that's all that matters to me." He said, leaning forward as well. Giving him a reassuring peck on the lips. Castiel seemed to not believe him, but humored him anyway.

"So, how are you feeling?" Castiel asked, changing the subject. "You know, after your outing." He clarified with a smile.

"Oh, very relaxed." Dean said, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Well, there where a few times today, where I wanted to grab the closest knife and plunge it into my fathers and brother's chest." Dean answered, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. "But that's how family is supposed to make you feel sometimes. Especially when they give you crap for some young little waitress' crush on you." He admitted, looking at Castiel who feature immediately schooled into a stoic expression.

"So are you going to go out with her?" Castiel asked, his voice calm, a mask of disinterest. Dean hadn't heard that kind of calmness in Castiel's voice since they first met.

"What?" Dean asked, incredulous. "Fuck no, Cas. I threw that girls number away the second I got a chance." He told him, anger seeping out of every word. Sure his track record wasn't exactly the best, but that didn't mean he was a cheater or anything. "I mean, I am with you. Aren't I?" He asked, insecurity getting the better of him. Yes, they kissed, and talked, they talked a lot. But they never really cleared the air about what they where.

"Are you?" Castiel asked, face un-moving from that stoic expression. "I have to admit Dean. I do want a relationship with you. Open and honest. I understand that you don't want your family to know, but I would like you to be a bit more forthcoming with what you want. Do you want the same, or are you just frustrated with being coped up in here all day, and need some sort of sexual release?"

"We haven't even done anything yet, Cas." Dean argued that point.

"But you want to, and I do to for that matter." Castiel admitted. "But are the things we want different. Am I looking to far into this, while your just looking for something that's close by and not family?"

"No, of course not." Dean answered truthfully. Is that what was really bothering Castiel. "I made the first move, remember. I told you I how I felt, how I have been feeling for you the past couple years."

"After you spent the night in a bar, flirting with a girl who happened to have a very jealous boyfriend." Castiel shot back. Dean had to admit he had a point, he had not looked very good at the time.

"That?" Dean asked, arm shooting out in frustration. "I did that because I needed a drink. I would have liked to come home to you. I would have liked you to come. But I figured you wouldn't have been up for that sort of thing. For God's sake Cas, you've been married once. Let's not forget about April as well. I thought you where straight, if you where ever interested in any of that at all." He explained, staring at his friend's eyes. Never getting over just how blue they where.

"You could have just asked me." Castiel pointed out, staring back blankly.

"Your an Angel." Dean reasoned. "A mother fucking Angel of the Lord. Isn't gay sex and love a sin or something? I figured you would look at me with pity, and then leave so as not to temp me or something." He bit out, looking down at his lap and refusing to look at his friend.

"You human's and your labels." Castiel mumbled, shaking his head. Dean looked up to see a small smile on his face. "That kind of prejudice is purely a human construct, created by the profits as they wrote their parts. Many of them, often times put their own beliefs in the Bible in order to make people think they needed to follow it. God, we Angels, we are not so closed minded to believe that the genitals of two lovers is really a matter of import."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"No, not at all." Castiel answered plainly.

"So, I was just being an idiot, making assumptions like that." Dean stated, watching Castiel who's face broke into a genuine grin.

"Yes, you where." He stated, grin growing wider.

"So you would have been good for this..." Dean started, trailing off in the hopes of getting an answer.

"Dean, I rebelled against Heaven for you. Threw a Molotov cocktail of Holy Fire at an Archangel, to protect you." Castiel reminded Dean who let out a long breath.

"Then what the Hell have I been doing this entire time?" Dean asked himself. Thinking back to all the years he'd held this feeling in himself, not even admitting to it. Thinking about everything that happened over the past few years, Castiel doing everything in his power to help him, even though it was obvious he had bigger issues to take care of. Castiel leaned forward and kissed him to get his attention.

"Being human. Doubting yourself, like anyone would do." Castiel answered him, pressing his lips to Dean's again for just a moment. Dean grabbed Castiel's shirt and pulled him toward himself, taking his lips in his own.

"I was a complete idiot, huh?" Dean asked, breaking free from Castiel's, just barely.

"We both where." Castiel conceded, smiling at Dean.

There you go. Another chapter, and early, or late depending how you look at it. I generally try to post on the weekends, but I could only do one chapter this weekend, and I felt like I was slouching. But, anyhoo, I hope you liked.

Nice reviews make me happy and give me strength.

Have a nice day.