A/N: Many thanks for everyone who's reading and leaving feedback on this story.
I need to use this space for a personal reply to Tabby, I wish you had left me an address to reply privately, but I just need to let you know how much your review means to me. It really is such a spur on to hear how much you enjoy this and that you are upset on my behalf on the seemingly small number of reviews. There is a lot more I want to say to you but this is not the place. But thanks again!
I have to say that I cherish every single review, be there one of a hundred. I know I am not a fandom famous author and that generally my stories are not drawing in the masses. But I love this baby of mine and as long as there is one other person reading this, I will carry on. But maybe I could ask you lovely readers that if you enjoy this story, to go out there and spread the word, rec it to other Destiel fans, or to just make my day and leave me a short review.
Enough of my ramblings, I hope you like the next chapter.
Chapter 5
"He's coming, everyone to your positions," Sammy animatedly waved his hands around, indicating where he wanted everyone to be.
"The candles!" he yelled.
"Already at it," Amelia replied, lighting the candles that the younger Winchester had arranged in a nice geometrical pattern on the cake. He had been so excited about this moment all day, no - all week, really. He could hardly contain himself, to the point where Dean this morning had abandoned him to some yard work, while he had gone off to see if Castiel needed help with anything. As he had put it, he didn't want to catch the 'crazy'. And if the younger brother hadn't been so excited about today, he might have even got grumpy at the fact that Dean (as had happened more and more lately) chose to spend time with the older man over spending time with him. But he didn't want to appear selfish as Dean didn't really have any friends to call his own and mostly he was happy for Dean, as he generally seemed more relaxed these days. He just didn't understand why that required him to be excluded.
Sometimes he was worried that Dean got to that age where he didn't want anything to do with his kid brother anymore, something that according to books and shows on TV was bound to happen. Sammy had no idea what he would do without Dean so he pushed those thoughts away and tried to be the most awesome little brother he possibly could be. And today he would make sure, with the help of Castiel and Amelia, that Dean would finally get a birthday worth remembering.
All throughout the day he had been very upset that his older brother didn't as much as question that apparently everybody had forgotten about his birthday. He got it that they couldn't expect their dad to get them as much as a cake, but Dean really should know him better than to forget, and if it had been the other way around, Sammy would have raised hell about the fact that it was his birthday hours ago; he was one hundred percent positive on that one.
He had casually mentioned to Amelia and Castiel that it would be Dean's fourteenth birthday this weekend and after confiding in them about the general lack of celebration in their household and that he wanted to do something special for his brother, both had been more than eager to arrange this little surprise with him.
And now, here they were, standing around the kitchen table, on which a big, massive chocolate cake (homemade by Sammy with only minimal supervision, as he would proudly tell anyone who wanted to listen) was placed, fourteen glowing candles in its middle, and actual presents! Sam was bouncing on the heels of his feet, as he shouted for Dean to come into the kitchen for a second, getting an exasperated "in a minute" coming from the living room in response.
Amelia and Castiel smiled fondly at the boy, happy that something so simple could put such a smile on someone's face. They had been saddened by the knowledge that this was not something the Winchester household normally did (well at least not since their mom died), and not for the first time Castiel's distinct dislike for their father went up a notch, despite still not having exchanged more than a few words with the man.
The short conversation he had with Bobby Singer a while ago was still prominent in his thoughts. The idea of the boys not getting the due care they needed (and more than deserved) did not sit well with him. He even had (and Dean would most definitely kill him if he ever found out) anonymously enquired about whether there was anything that could be done if someone had a feeling that there were kids who were being neglected. But after a long conversation and inquisition by the 'friendly' voice on the other end, about whether he feared for the kids safety (no) or whether he had evidence that they were being abused (also no, although Castiel would argue it didn't necessarily need bruises and scars for it to qualify as abuse, and he knew that from experience), there was apparently nothing much that could be done as that would be interfering in a family's private affairs. It seemed that being a 'douche and enjoying too much to drink' in and off itself was not enough to raise suspicions, or, as the lady on the phone had put it, if that were the case, they would probably have to put half the children's population into care.
Castiel had felt a righteous indignation of 'thanks for nothing' growing inside of him in the wake of that conversation, and already could feel his passive aggressive stubborn streak take over and hence his renewed resolve to live up to Bobby's promise and to look out for the two brothers. If no one else would, then he was more than willing to take on that job description. It wasn't like it was a chore anyway. Plus he knew that Amelia was more than smitten with the boys, so it didn't even seem weird to somehow find himself with a kind of 'insta'-family all of a sudden, despite never having pegged himself as a family man, let alone a father- (no, that made him feel old and also brought back too many memories of his own dad), better, big brother- figure for two kids.
Part of that job was to put a smile on the boys' faces, and Castiel knew the second Dean walked in through that door and the way he smiled, almost bashfully for someone normally so brazen, that he would never forget this moment in his life. Sammy was belting out 'happy birthday' from the top of his lungs, with Amelia and Castiel quick to join in, before the eager boy literally threw the presents and himself at his brother. Castiel felt his chest burst with glee at the scene in front of him. At the same time he couldn't help the feeling that quite possibly, he was becoming a bit too protective of these boys. He knew that not everyone grew up with caring parents, and despite their rather hard line disciplinarian stand, his parents cared on some level. And maybe their father did too. Well, at least the man provided a roof over his kids' heads, which was not something that could be said for everyone. Castiel would only have to venture a few streets down the road to see the reality of that statement.
"Little bro, where did you get these?" Dean was clearly taken by Sam's collection of AC/DC records, not CDs!, as he kept repeating excitedly. Sammy, of course, knew that Dean was the old fashioned type when it came to music as he always lectured him on how these old records had life and soul in them, something you just lose with all the modern crap (Dean's words).
Sammy had gone through Dean's records before, with the help of Castiel, googling which albums Dean still missed. Then the man had helped him track them down on the internet, making up the difference in money as Sam had only a little bit of money saved up, from back when his dad still had a job and actually gave them some spending money.
Sam beamed proudly. "I had a little help," he said, nodding at Castiel.
"Aw man, thanks." Dean smiled, reverently holding the records in his hand.
"Also," Amelia chimed in, "a little something from me and Cassie." She held out a big, wrapped square box, and if anything, Dean's eyes got even bigger.
Dean couldn't believe this. These people really didn't owe him, or Sammy, anything and yet, they went to all this length to make his birthday a special day. He could feel the emotions welling up inside him (as they had a weird tendency to do lately), and had to swallow and clench his jaw a few times to get himself under control. No way was he gonna cry in front of all these people.
"You really didn't need to," he eventually said, still staring at the present.
"No, but we wanted to." Castiel stated dryly, nodding his head in the direction of the present.
"Dean, come on, open it!" Sam whined, with all the enthusiasm of a ten year old, and probably about two seconds away from opening it himself.
It was a model kit for a classic Chevrolet, and not one of those cheap ones you might find in just any shop. This had real metal parts, rubber tyres and would look absolutely beautiful when assembled.
Amelia and Castiel held their breath. They really had struggled to find something they thought Dean might enjoy. He was at that awkward teenage age where apparently not much excites, but Castiel remembered how his face always lit up when he talked about his dad's car and how much he enjoyed working on it when given the chance.
"Man, that looks expensive," was the first thing that came out of Dean's mouth.
"Hope you like it." Castiel simply replied, ignoring the comment.
"Yeah, I do, I really do. Thanks guys," he said, giving Cas an awkward one-armed hug before being pulled in for a proper embrace by Amelia.
"Now who wants some cake?" Amelia asked and Sam clearly was just waiting for this. Dean chuckled, if Sammy was good at one thing, it was eating, no doubt he would be on a total sugar high later and a pain in the ass to deal with, especially while trying to keep him from making too much noise when they went back home, but for one day Dean didn't think he cared. Their old man would just have to suck it up, and deal with the hangover he no doubt would be nursing.
#
Dean had an awesome day; there was no other way of putting it. Cas and Amelia had surprised Sammy and him with an impromptu barbecue, honouring his love of red meat, and making most of the warm late July day just hanging out in their back yard. They had asked whether Dean wanted to invite his dad along, but Dean knew his dad was out, probably already drunk at some bar, which of course he didn't tell them about, instead making up some excuse. Since he had lost his last job, he was going through a particularly rough spot, but Dean was used to riding those out. Just give the old man as little reason to be upset as possible until he comes out the other end generally worked best.
But really, he hadn't wanted to think too much about his dad, it would have just ruined his mood. And he had had too much of a good time watching that excited bright smile on Sammy's face, as Cas had shown him how to flip the burgers and even let him have a go himself. Of course, Dean had to eat the slightly charred 'creation' Sammy had produced and handed to him with the biggest grin possible, but to him it had been the best damn thing ever.
And now he was sat in the kitchen, Sammy long asleep, the excitement of the day finally having caught up with his little brother, and the half assembled model kit in his hands. The picture on the box really wasn't doing this kit justice. The pieces were exquisitely formed and painted and he needed real little bolts and screws to put this car together. He had spent the first hour just separating all the different kinds of screws and familiarising himself with the blueprint. When finished, it would be about 20 inches long and Dean already knew just the spot to put it in his and Sammy's room.
The slamming of the front door made him jump. Shit, he had totally forgotten the time. A quick glance to the wall clock confirmed that it was past eleven, and their dad was pretty firm on Dean being in bed by ten, even on the weekends. Not that he was around too often to check whether Dean adhered to this, but it was the randomness in his dad's check up that had Dean on his toes, there was no time for slacking off. Still he hoped that maybe now that he had turned fourteen, and because it was his birthday after all, his dad might be a bit more lenient.
"Dean?" his dad's slurred voice drifted across from the hallway. He hadn't even made it to the kitchen, and Dean could hear he was not too thrilled.
"What time you call this?" he stepped into the room, Dean already having an apology on his lips, when his dad's eyes fell to the model kit in front of him on the table. He stared at it intently for a minute. Dean tried to remain calm, trying to decipher the look on his old man's face.
"What's that?" John asked, picking up the box and trying to focus on the reading on it, something Dean could see caused him some trouble.
"A model car, sir." Dean replied simply and without any emotion.
"And where did this 'model car' come from?" his dad hissed, at least he was aware that Sammy was asleep and probably didn't want to wake him.
"It was-" Dean stalled. He did not want to tell his dad where the car had come from. Their time with Amelia and Cast was special, something only for him and Sammy, and he did not want his dad knowing about it, interfering and probably making the Novaks realise in the process that they were hopeless cases and just abandon them.
"Son?" His dad asked a bit more forcefully.
"A present, ok?" Dean snapped, immediately regretting his tone of voice, when his dad's eyes lit up in anger.
"A present? You tryin' to tell me someone spent all this money, because, let's face it this ain't some cheap crap. Dean, did you steal this?" his dad's voice was rising in intensity.
"What? No!" Dean protested.
"Then tell me where you got it!" his dad demanded.
"No." Oh god, Dean knew the second he said it, he would be in trouble, if his dad disliked one thing it was defiance.
"I thought I brought you up better than to be a common thief!" his dad yelled, reaching out with his hand and swiping the model straight off the table and hurling it into the wall.
"No!" Dean gasped, scrambling after it, but the damage had already been done. Whatever he had done so far, had been pretty much trashed, especially the bits he had to glue on, as they had yet to dry. Also the frame had been bent, and he had no idea if it was fixable.
"If I ever, and I mean EVER, find out you're stealin', I will have to revisit my 'no corporal' punishment rule. We Winchesters might be poor but at least we're honest!" And with that his dad stumbled out of the kitchen and towards his room.
Dean sat on the floor, staring at the ruined model, feeling the tears threatening to fall, but he had decided a long time ago that he would not cry over anything to do with his dad anymore. But he needed to get out; he could not stand to be in the same house right now. He grabbed a bag and picking up all the pieces, put them together with what was still on the table inside, not really knowing why he took it with him as he left the house.
He just wanted to go for a walk, to clear his head, to work off some of that anger he could feel knotting in his stomach. He wasn't even thinking about how he would leave Sammy behind on his own, his mind too clouded. Somehow he came to a stop in front of the Novaks' house and he saw the light on in the kitchen. He had no idea why, but with a few quick and determined strides he made his way to their front door and knocked on the door. He just needed to see a friendly face.
Castiel was just about to go to bed, only quickly wanting to grab a glass of water, when he heard a knock on the door. He was half tempted to just ignore it as he was not expecting anyone. Amelia had left a few hours ago to visit her family for the weekend and he was sure that opening the door at this time of night would not be the best advised idea. Instead he opted for the safer "Who's there," not really expecting Dean to answer with an altogether too choked up sounding voice. He flung the door open immediately and took in the slouched form of the boy.
"Did anything happen?" He asked concerned, his mind providing that there must be something wrong with Sammy, if Dean turned up at his door this time of night.
Dean did a mix between a nod and a shake, and swallowed hard, it was evident to Castiel that he was trying hard not to lose it.
"Dean, is Sam ok?"
That got Dean's attention. "Yes, he's fine. It's just … my dad-," his voice broke off.
"You want to come in for a minute. Tell me what happened?" Castiel offered, not sure what the right thing to do here was. Dean clearly was distressed but it was almost 11.30 and really, he should be at home and in bed. God, he wished Amelia was here, she was so much better with all this emotional stuff.
Dean nodded his head and walked past Cas, straight to the living room, sitting down on the couch and burying his head in his hands. Cas closed the door and joined Dean , eyeing the boy without trying to stare and still trying to figure out what the right thing to say here was.
"You wanna talk about it?" he eventually settled for. Dean violently shook his head, but Cas could see how he was starting to shake and could hear the laboured intakes of his breath. He knew even with his limited social awareness that Dean was most likely about 2 seconds away from crying.
"I'm really not good at all this comforting stuff," the man chuckled, trying in vain to lift the mood, "And, I don't know if you're too old for a hug, being all teenagey and stuff but…" Castiel didn't get to finish the sentence as he suddenly had a sobbing Dean attached to his side, head pressed against his chest, and shuddering with the release of emotions he had probably held in for way too long.
"He broke it," he rasped out between sobs. "He … he said I was a thief and then he broke it and, it was mine, not his, not Sammy's, it was just mine, and now it's broken."
Castiel held him tighter, rubbing soothing circles to his back. "Broke what?" he asked gently.
"Your present. I- I started building it and, he got angry and he fucking broke it."
Castiel chose to ignore the curse word coming out of Dean's mouth. To be honest, he himself would right about now like to use a few choice words to describe what he thought of Dean's dad. But he knew that this, while possibly making him feel better, would not really help the situation or Dean right now.
"It's going to be ok." was the platitude he came out with instead, holding on to Dean, waiting patiently until he would be all cried out. He hadn't even noticed that his hand had started to card through the boy's hair, as he continued to whisper reassurances. God, he was mad, he had no idea when the last time was that he felt so worked up over something. He pulled Dean closer and the boy just clung to him, almost desperately so. If it was up to Castiel, he would just scoop this amazing young man up and whisk him away from all this trouble, keep him safe from this world and all its troubles. He just wanted to protect the boy but felt immensely ill equipped to do so.
It took a good few minutes, but eventually the incessant sobbing turned into the occasional gasp. Castiel had given up on the idea of saving his shirt. The spot Dean was crying into, by now was soaked and clinging to Castiel's skin.
Dean had not wanted to lose it. He had tried so hard not to cry, not over his dad, not show himself as weak. But then Cas' warm and soothing voice had cut straight to his heart, making him feel safe in a weird sort of way, in a way he hadn't felt in a long time and he couldn't stop the tears. And once he let go, all his frustration and anger came tumbling out. He pressed himself closer to the blue eyed man, feeling his strong arms engulf him. It had been so long since someone really had hugged him, or to be fair, since he would allow anyone to hug him, well apart from Sammy, but that was generally because Sammy needed comforting not the other way round.
So now that he had crossed this line, he let himself enjoy every second of it, crying like he never had before, feeling the big, strong hands rubbing circles on his back and enjoying the warm presence of another body. And then Cas' fingers started to brush through his hair, and Dean could feel himself shiver, leaning into the touch like he was starving for it. When Dean eventually started to calm down, his brain was demanding of him to let go, to get himself out of the embrace. But stubbornly he refused, instead pressing himself up even more against Castiel, moving his head so it was buried in the crook of his neck now. He felt the stubble against his skin and couldn't help but brush his cheek against it, which brought his nose right up to the spot behind the older man's ear and he took in the scent that was all Castiel, a fragrance he was only too eager to smell again. So he brushed his nose up against the spot again.
Castiel could finally feel the boy in his arms calm down, and he let out a relieved sigh. He could feel Dean nuzzling against his neck and if his mind hadn't been preoccupied with processing how this day could have turned out so bad for Dean, he might have even had the presence of mind to maybe put a dignified stop to the embrace before Dean would feel embarrassed by the sudden display of affection.
"Better now?" Cas asked, voice coming out a lot huskier than he had intended to, making him clear his throat. He could feel the movement of Dean's head and only assume that it was a nod.
"Good," he smiled into Dean's hair and placed the smallest of pecks on the boy's forehead before pulling him in again.
Dean's head was swimming, he had no idea what was wrong with him all of a sudden. The dread of what happened with his father had been replaced by a nervous coiling in his stomach, a heat working its way all the way up his spine, making him feel hot and cold at the same time. He craved some more of Cas' body heat and pressed himself even closer, just short of throwing a leg over the man's lap and closing his eyes. Then out of the blue, Dean froze, holding his breath. Shit, there was definitely something going on in his pants, his suddenly panicked mind provided. 'Oh my god, please don't let Castiel notice', was racing through his head, as he could feel himself flush red in embarrassment. Alarmed, Dean bolted out of the man's embrace, with a blurted out "I need the loo."
Castiel just looked on as Dean high-tailed it out of the living room, eyebrow raised. He shook his head, a small smile gracing his features. Probably Dean had just realised the 'girlish' nature of his behaviour and needed a moment. If Cas knew something about the boy it was that he liked to uphold his 'tough-boy' image, but who could blame him on a day like today to let it slip. He hoped Dean wouldn't be too hard on himself. He was just human after all and Cas, for once, was glad he came to share his frustration with him rather than swallow it all down, like he probably tended to do.
Dean raced to the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror, down at his crotch and up in the mirror again, asking his stupidly flushed reflection "What the hell?" Yeah, he had had boners before, ever since he was twelve in fact, but they were generally dream- or well, lately, porn-induced (a nice luxury thanks to their dad not really giving a shit about internet security), but getting aroused while sat on the couch with a guy, with Castiel, his friend? What the hell was wrong with him?
He splayed cold water on his face, willing the hard-on to go away, as there was no way he would do what would need doing to take care of it in Amelia and Castiel's bathroom. He prayed that Castiel hadn't noticed anything. Dean was sure he would die of intense shame otherwise. He didn't want Castiel to think of him as weird, and throw him out or worse, lose him as a friend. As he panicked, he realised how much Cas' friendship meant to him and shit, he was about to mess that up. Cas put up with enough of their crap, and Sammy would never forgive him if he pissed Castiel or Amelia off. He knew how much Sammy had come to like them and it would break his heart. Dean splashed some more water on his face. At least his near panic attack had the desired side effect of willing his arousal away.
He eventually managed to get himself under control, not looking like he was five kinds of crazy, and walked back into the living room, feeling sheepish and murmuring "Sorry". Castiel just smiled one of his genuine smiles, all teeth and gums. "No worries, it sounds like it's been a rough evening for you."
Dean nodded in silent agreement, and sighed, relieved. Things seemed to be ok between them. "Sorry, I didn't want to dump this all on you like that, just, I don't know…"
"Dean, I said it's alright, really. Remember, friends!" and he pointed his finger between the two, and Dean couldn't help but smile. Cas patted the space next to him and Dean sat himself down, making sure to leave an acceptable distance between them.
"Now, do you feel ok to head home or would you like a drink first?" Cas added, and when Dean nodded his head, he got up and padded to the kitchen, motioning for Dean to follow him. He toyed with the idea of preparing some coffee for himself. He was wide awake now, and might as well use the night to work on his thesis.
Dean followed him into the kitchen, sitting down at the table. "A coffee would be great actually."
Castiel turned around, giving Dean a questioning look. "Since when do you drink coffee?" he asked curiously, leaning leisurely against the counter, a look that suited him, Dean decided as he shrugged his shoulders in response. "Well, since a while. I guess, since I saw you drinking it, drowning it in like five spoons of sugar. Got me curious." He added, while simultaneously trying not to let his eyes rake over Castiel's body too obviously because that would just be awkward.
"So you're saying I corrupted you?" Castiel teased while pulling out a second mug, and putting some more coffee beans into the grinder.
Dean just snorted and rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, well, guess it was supposed to happen sooner or later." And now he had to look away. What the hell?
They both fell silent for a bit. Dean went back to watching Castiel grind the beans, then put them in the cafetiere before adding the hot water. Of course, Cas would be the fussy kind of coffee lover. Dean bet he'd rather drink water than settle for the instant version most people so readily consumed these days. He had of course watched him prepare coffee before, but now, observing him, the way he almost reverently added it all together to create the perfect mix, he couldn't help but smile. He wondered whether he would develop little habits like that as he got older. For once, this would be one he could actually see himself doing, as the delicious smell of the brew was slowly invading his nostrils.
"Milk?" Castiel asked and Dean nodded his head, smirking when Castiel pulled out a small sauce pan, pouring in the milk and placing it on the stove.
"The microwave broken?" Dean enquired flippantly.
"No," Castiel replied dryly, not feeling the need to explain himself further. He poured the warmed the milk into a small, fancy looking mug and placed it on the table along with the mugs, a bowl of sugar and the cafetiere, then sat down opposite Dean.
"So, how bad is it?" he asked while he filled up both mugs before pushing one over to Dean, motioning for him to add milk and sugar to his liking.
"Is what?" Dean asked confused.
"The model," Castiel clarified, and then took a big long gulp of the coffee, sighing contentedly. "That's good stuff," he smiled.
Dean hummed in agreement, before he remembered that he actually had brought the car along. "Hold on," he said, dashing out towards the living room and returning a moment later with the plastic bag in hand.
"You brought it?" Castiel asked surprised.
"Yeah, don't really know why, knee jerk reaction I suppose." He emptied the contents carefully out on the kitchen table, along with the blueprints. Castiel picked up the frame, eyeing it from all directions, before mumbling to himself.
"It's bad, isn't it," Dean said, more a statement than a question.
"Well, you're generally the expert on cars, so you tell me." He turned the model in his hand as Dean leaned in looking it over properly for the first time.
"Looks like the frame is misshapen and some of the paint has chipped, also this screw over here has broken off," Dean said, Castiel nodding his head in agreement, giving the kit his own once over.
"I think it's fixable" he concluded.
"It is?" Dean's voice broke in excitement.
"Yeah, I'm sure we can pull the frame back into shape and the rest is just cosmetic work and then you should be able to finish it according to the instructions."
"Can we do it now?" Dean blurted out, almost jumping off the chair in excitement and Castiel was just happy to see him smile again.
"Dean, the time," he said, which even in his eyes he knew only to be a half hearted attempt at avoiding the inevitable.
"Nah, my dad's out cold, and… but of course if you don't, I mean you probably want to go to bed." Dean said, grabbing his coffee and taking a big gulp. It was after midnight now, and he suddenly felt like he had overstayed his welcome.
"Well, we could just fix the frame now, and then you could finish it off tomorrow, if you want."
"That would be awesome." Dean smiled one of his big, wide smiles that Cas had gotten used to seeing quite a bit of lately, and it felt nice being the one putting it on his face. He really had a lot on his plate for a fourteen year old and he deserved to be a kid with no worries for just a while.
"Let me just grab my tool box," Castiel said, grabbing the garage keys from the counter and heading out, coming back a few minutes later with a big, black metal box in his hands and getting straight to work, pulling and bending the metal frame, with Dean helping where he could as they tried to avoid causing any more damage. Eventually he was satisfied, it looked almost as good as new and he let out a big sigh of relief.
"There, that should do it." Castiel leaned back in his chair, chugging down the last of the coffee and pulling a face when he realised it had gone cold.
Dean laughed and took the frame off Castiel and looked at it, eyes shining again.
"Man, I'm not gonna bawl again," he huffed, turning his emotions into laughter instead. "But really, thanks Cas."
They both fell into a comfortable silence. Dean really didn't want this night to end. It felt good, being here with Cas, just the two of them but despite his best efforts not to let it show, he was knackered and couldn't stop a big yawn escaping him.
"You probably should go and get some sleep," Castiel stated, checking the time. God when had it gotten so late? It was almost 2am and he hadn't even noticed. Cas mentally waved the time he had wanted to spend on his thesis goodbye. But looking at the boy sitting next to him at the table, tired but content, it had been worth it.
Dean had to agree, not matter how much he'd rather stayed here all night, but then he remembered Sammy, home alone with their dad. He'd had his proverbial five minutes of freedom, the model would be fine, and Sammy would need someone to make him breakfast in the morning. He carefully placed the car and all the pieces back in the bag, while Castiel washed up the mugs.
"I'll walk you to your house," Castiel said when they had reached the front door.
"No, dude. That's not necessary. I kept you up long enough," Dean protested but couldn't help feeling warmed by the thought that Cas cared enough for him to want to make sure he got home safe.
"Not asking," Castiel simply assured before pulling on some shoes and grabbing the door keys, motioning for Dean to follow him out of the house.
A minute (literally, Dean couldn't help but notice) later they arrived outside Dean's front door.
"Let me know if you need any more help with the car or…" Castiel stalled for a second, thinking about how to phrase this. "Or if you have trouble or, you know, need to talk."
Dean nodded, understanding perfectly well what Cas meant, and part of him was already beating himself up internally for having been such a fucking pussy, crying like that, but the other part still remembered how nice it felt to for once not having to pretend that everything is a-okay.
"Yeah, I will. Thanks Cas," he said, and he knew that the smile Cas gave him would follow him into his dreams but he was too tired to care. Before he could doubt himself he quickly leaned up, giving Cas a hug, allowing himself to enjoy the man's presence for just a few seconds longer before heading into his house and tiptoeing to his room, careful not to wake his little brother or god forbid, his dad.