Chapter 16: Grace

Dean rubbed his hand over his nose and pinched it as he got to the end. Not a word had been spoken since his exclamation. For a moment he hoped that Sam would just let it go. Of course, out of all the people in the world, he knew better than that. Before his brother could say anything Dean held up his hand. "Can we not?"

"Dean- why is Azazel mentioned in that?"

"It's some stupid prank."

"You don't respond like that to stupid pranks, Dean." Sam stood up, angry, as Dean tried to avoid looking at him. All of a sudden their blank walls had become very, terribly, interesting.

Dean picked up the scrap of paper and crushed it in his hand. He ground it in his palm as he walked into the kitchen; intending to rip it apart and shove it down the garbage disposal. After the first rip Sam was shouldered in next to him. "Sam! Stop."

His brother pinched him at the elbow and Dean attempted to yank his arm out of the way. Sam pinched harder the momentary distraction caused by the pain gave him the chance to rip the paper back. He only succeeded in grabbing one half of it. They stared each other down on opposite sides of the kitchen.

"I could go ask someone at the office about this just to be sure," Sam threatened. "Don't lie to me, Dean."

"Sam," Dean pleaded. He felt the fight fall out of his shoulders and drip down to the floor. He wasn't exactly sure how illegal what he had done was. To be honest, he hadn't even taken it that seriously until the last case and the warning note. He'd been hoping, praying, that there wouldn't be a follow through. That they wouldn't be this organized. That the continuation of the deal wouldn't keep going after Azazel's death. He'd hoped that it had been a bluff so that Dean would let him go, keep him alive. Even then, making deals with criminals didn't seem to be at the top of any 'this-is-good-cop-behavior' lists.

"What-did-you-do?"

"Nothing," Dean argued. He turned his back to his brother to regain his composure. It was easier to lie to him when he didn't have to look. Sam knew most, if not all of his tell's.

"Dean."

He glanced over his shoulder at his brother's broken face and couldn't help his own face falling.

"What is this talking about? What deal?"

"It's nothing dramatic." Dean swallowed. He brushed a hand through the short strands of his hair. "I just, I owe 'em I guess."

"How!? How the hell- why would you even-? He killed Jess! How could you take favors from them!?"

"Don't get mad at me!" Dean yelled back, hands shaking. "Don't you get mad at me-" his voice quivered a little "-I had to."

"Had to? What? Did they hold a gun to your head?" Sam countered back. His stance was aggressive and strung tight as he marched forward. He was nearly in Dean's personal space before his brother spoke.

"Not me," came the whispered response.

"What?"

"They weren't holding a gun to me..." Dean looked up when Sam didn't respond. He nudged his shoulder to push Sam out of the way and shoved past him. He walked to the cabinet and bent down low. He pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam and twisted it open. He didn't bother mixing it with anything before taking a harsh swig from the opening of the bottle. "You."

"Excuse me?"

Dean turned around, breathing labored as he tried to control his composure. "You, Sammy. They had a gun on you."

"What are you talk-" Sam froze. He replayed his last memories of the incident back. He'd obsessed over them again and again. Re-playing things that could have gone differently. His sudden rescue and consequent trip to the hospital. Jake dropping to the ground. Something had always been off, there was no way he should've walked out of there in one piece. "What did you do? Why did you-" Horror crept into his tone.

"I had to, you were going to die!"

"So what? Now you owe them? What the hell do you even owe them? I looked into their shit, Dean. I saw how bad it gets. No one makes it out alive!"

Dean's throat felt like it was squeezing shut. It was something he'd considered. Especially with the case he'd just gotten home from. While there hadn't been too many details, he could make a few creative guesses. Their time had run out on what they received from the deals, or tried to weasel out of it; something, anything. He figured it wouldn't have been as simple as he'd imagined. Of course when he'd made the deal he'd seen some case files too. How bloody they could get. Hell, half of the members were certifiable serial killers.

"So?"

"So?" Sam whispered back. He steeled his shoulders and slammed a hand down on the counter. "I didn't want to be saved like that!"

"Are you deaf! I had to!"

"Well who the hell asked you to do it like this!?"

"Who the hell asked you to run off on your own in the first place!?" Dean snapped his mouth shut and took a step back. They'd never talked about it, how Sam had gone behind his back and dove into a world that even experts had trouble navigating. "You should've trusted me, man. Talked to me."

"I know," Sam sighed. He leaned his hip against the counter and pressed both of his palms to his eyes. He wanted to scream, yell... punch a few holes in the walls, but he couldn't do much but let his hands flop uselessly back down. He'd known that a lot of the mess he'd gotten himself into had been on him. He'd let himself be put into a position where he'd managed to get himself kidnapped. But Dean had never faulted him for it, not out loud at least. Dean had never told him how much his rescue had cost either. Sam had always assumed that things had gone down smoother; he knew that Castiel was the one who'd taken the kill shot on Azazel. Knew that Meg was in custody. He should've known that their lives had been going much too smoothly lately.

Dean walked forward and slid the bottle towards Sam, this time taking out two glasses. "I couldn't let you die."

They sipped in silence for a moment. "How-" Sam's swallow was audible, "-how long do you have? Before, before they coming knocking."

For a moment Dean considered lying, but it would be easier to fold all of his cards out on the table. And as far as he remembered, telling Sam hadn't been forbidden. "A year."

"A year?" Sam stood up abruptly. "A damn year?" His voice came out barely as a breath.

Dean tried to put on a cocksure expression of amusement. "That's like 365 days and what's that dumb song- 525,600 minutes?"

"What?-" The reference blindsided him only for a minute, but then again he shouldn't have been surprised knowing how many shows and movies his brother watched in secret. He knew Dean was trying to make him laugh. It wasn't working. "From when?"

His brother's expression sobered a little, the grin slipping off of his face.

"From when, Dean?"

The answer came out as a little croak. "The day we found you."

Sam's felt himself grow cold. His hearing whited out for a little bit and his knees felt weak. It had taken them a few months from the time of the incident to get approved, move up here, and solidify the transfer. Dean had been working for a little under a month now, too. He tried to count how much time they had left. "No."

"It's not that bad," Dean said nudging his brother on the shoulder with a fist. "There's plenty of time."

"Not enough time," Sam whispered. He felt his vision grow misty and shook his head, hair flopping across his forehead. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt like falling to the ground. Sam straightened and gave his brother a forlorn look. He left the drink his brother had poured him on the counter as he moved through the kitchen. "I need to," he paused, "just-for-"

"It's fine," Dean said staring at the abandoned glass.

"Rufus, uhm. Rufus called, there's a voice mail too. The Impala's gonna be here tomorrow."

Sam didn't pause to look at his brother as he slunk into his own room, shutting the door behind him quietly. He leaned against it and listened to the quiet shuffled movements on the other side for a moment before retreating further into his room. Although his first instinct was to collapse down onto the bed he knelt next to it instead. Biting his cheek he leaned down and stretched out his long hand. What little dust had managed to gather underneath the cheap bed frame, that he'd found on the corner of a street, swirled up as his fingers danced across the floor. Once they made contact with a small cardboard box he sighed, curled his hand around it and yanked it forward. It made very little noise as he pulled it into his lap.

He didn't even have the energy in him to sob as he picked up the collection of pictures he'd stuffed in there. He ran his finger gently over the blonde hair in the photo, then down the woman's chin, before closing his eyes and gripping the photo tightly. He thought of the anger, the boiling in his veins. The wrath that had driven him forward and into some type of strange game, especially one that said he'd been meant to be there all along. He'd nearly forgotten the video, content to make it a part of a lucid nightmare. No one had ever gotten back to him on what he'd shared with the police. They'd told him if it was important they would tell him.

Sam's eyes threatened to overload with tears as he thought of his brother and what his vigilante detective work had cost them.

He thought of adding Dean's picture to the box.

He spent the night curled around it.

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Cas woke up with a thin layer of sweat covering his body. As he shifted in his sheets, breathing hard, small droplets collected down the line of his back. Shuddering, he lifted himself up and counted to ten. He did this three-four times before he felt like he could open his eyes. Warily, he blinked around the room. Logically he knew there was no way anyone could be in there; he had some one of the best security system's money could buy (the one thing he allowed himself to splurge on). The knowledge didn't help the itching under his skin and tightness across his chest whenever he woke up from a nightmare. They'd been happening more frequently and he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

The sun hadn't come up yet but it was early enough in the morning that he could get out of bed. At least they had an off-day so it wouldn't matter what he did with his routine. He splashed water on his face and scrubbed a towel across it. He sighed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror before marching back into the bedroom, stripping as he went. Castiel let his spine stretch out as he bent down to brush the tips of his fingertips over his toes. He'd always made it a point to stretch and be flexible. Glancing at the clock again, he pulled on his running pants and a loose t-shirt. A granola bar and a glass of orange juice were his mini-breakfast before he went on his morning run.

With a water bottle tucked into a pack clipped around his waist, he took off.

Despite it still being in the summer months, the morning air was cool as he sped through it. He felt his mind calming at the rhythmic, steady thud of his feet on pavement. The knot in his chest had started to loosen and he felt some of the toxins drip away. A small cloud remained over him. One of the reasons he couldn't help but feel anxious. Their last case had left him with a dark shadow clinging to his back. First, he should've picked up the signs the second they hit town. He might not have been an expert but he knew enough. Second, the call he'd made to the CIA. Of course he'd expected some resistance but he hadn't expected the CIA order to be corroborated with by the head of the FBI. Usually they could at least fight for the right to remain on the case. The ease at which they'd been dismissed and told to turn tail bothered him. Zachariah's smug voice had carried with him all the way to the small diner that he and Dean had spent the evening in. He'd sounded almost satisfied. Happy. Castiel had learned long ago not to trust anyone who was pleased by any sort of carnage. He didn't believe in collateral damage (one of the reasons his time in the marines bothered him). They'd told him not to worry about it and that it would be taken care of. When Castiel had inquired for personal reasons, after all he was a part of the special force, Zachariah had had the nerve to 'tut' at him and tell him to have patience.

Castiel's feet hit the pavement harder as he zipped around a corner, sweat starting to slowly drip into his eyes from his bangs. He brushed his forearm across his face and let his run slow down a little. There was no reason for him to hurt himself simply because he was in a mood. Cas slowed to a heaving stop, lifting his arms up to stretch his sides. There was a soft ringing from the same satchel his water bottle was in. Frowning, confused, he dug out his phone as he squirted a bit of water into his mouth.

'Dean' flashed across the screen. His frown deepened; yes, he'd been on his run for about two hours and the sun was up but it was unusual for Dean to call him. Especially this early.

"Dean?" he huffed, out of breath into the phone.

"Woah there. Did I catch you in the middle of something?" Cas could hear the smirk in his voice.

He breathed out a short laugh, "I'm afraid not, Agent Winchester. I'm on my morning run." He took in a steadying breath. "What can I do for you?"

"I'll have to catch you another time I guess-" Cas smiled. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with flirting; it was just that he'd never enjoyed it quite as much. "- was just wondering what your plans were for you day off.. you know." The confidence in Dean's voice slipped a little into something more shy.

"What are you doing awake so early?" Cas asked, instead.

There was a pause over the line. "Didn't sleep so well." There it was. Cas had been wondering what the strange tone that had slipped into Dean's voice was.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah well, what can you do?" Dean sounded defensive. It was almost endearing.

"So far I was planning on finishing up some long over due chores at my apartment," he took another swig of water.

"What? On your day off? No way, man."

"We don't all live in chaos, Dean."

"I don't live in chaos."

"I've been inside your apartment."

"Yeah well...that's not really the point. Just-I- look-," the shyness crept back into his tone. Castiel could imagine Dean's ears tinting a little red as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, nervous. "-I know it's not a work day, but I could go for some pie and-" there was a pause in the conversation that Cas read into. Apparently whatever had kept him up all night warranted some company. "-my baby's gonna be here today."

"Baby?" He was pretty sure that Dean didn't have any other children than the Braeden child he'd played father to.

"My car. Rufus is bringing it up today."

"And that is pertinent, how?"

Castiel could practically hear the eye roll. "I haven't driven it in months!" Followed by a softer, "I want you to see it."

His answer took too long for Dean's nerves. "Nevermind, I mean, you're busy and shit I just figured I'd ask-"

"What time?"

"Huh?"

"What time will the car be arriving? I believe that would be an appropriate time for a lunch or dinner."

"Oh-yeah. Sometime in the afternoon, you know traffic can never be predictable." There was a new lightness in Dean's tone. "But-ah. I'll text you or call you or whatever."

"I'll be sure not to make any other plans."

There was an awkward moment of stillness as he waited for Dean to respond. He could practically feel the stress slowly seeping out of him. "Right. Cool. Sorry for just springing this on you-"

"Please, Dean. We may be colleagues but I like to think that we are also friends; especially with the volatile history we share. You may call me anytime you seem fit," Castiel took in a small breath, "I would like that."

There was a short inhale on the other line, followed by a 'of course we are' and a mumbled good bye. Cas chuckled a little to himself as he flipped his phone shut. He stroked a thumb over the small grooves in the phone and then over the display screen. He resisted the urge to tap it to his lips in thought. Shrugging, he took off into a slow jog back to his apartment. The sky seemed brighter around him.

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Dean sagged against the fridge door and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He really hadn't been lying when he'd said he hadn't slept well. Most of his night had been spent awake, staring blankly out of the window of his bedroom. A few times he'd ventured out into the living room and kitchenette to see if he could catch his brother; no such luck. When he'd finally had enough of gazing down at the street lights he'd crawled into bed hoping to get some shut eye. He'd even started humming Metallica to himself. It hadn't eased him into sleep like he'd hoped. The majority of his night had been filled with restless tossing and turning. He'd adjusted and re-adjusted his pillow almost obsessively. Angrily kicked his blanket off and yanked it back up, trying to find a comfortable position. When he'd finally fallen asleep around 6am, he'd been awoken by the sound of a cabinet slamming in the kitchen. In his sleep he'd been with Azazel and the sound had reminded him of a gun shot. It had taken him a few moments to calm his breathing and by the time he waddled out of his bedroom Sam had already disappeared again.

He hadn't gone back to bed after that.

By the time the sun had spread its rays across the horizon he'd started to get itchy. The night before he'd called Rufus and settled on an average time that the Impala would finally be there. It was at least one good thing to look forward to while everything else was going to hell. Even the excitement of having his baby back didn't stop his leg from nervously bouncing up and down at the edge of the bed. He'd fucked up. Well, sort of. Dean could never regret his decision. Sam was alive and after having lost everyone else, that was good enough for him. He'd never truly stopped to think of how his brother would end up reacting to it. He knew it had been somewhat selfish of him. Dean wasn't completely self-unaware. He knew it was him that couldn't live without Sam. Even having had Lisa and Ben at the time, and a tentative interest in Castiel... it wouldn't have been enough. He was never one for shirking responsibility but Sam was his last line.

The anxiety had crept up his throat until he'd felt like vomiting it up. So, he'd made an impulse call. He'd called Cas. Even as the phone rang he called himself seven types of idiot. Although he was betting on Cas being a morning person that wasn't a guarantee. Calling someone, who was essentially your boss, at odd hours in the morning, on their day off, seemed inappropriate.

Now, leaning heavily against the fridge door he had a smile on his face. He'd had to touch a hand to his cheeks just to make sure it was there. The inky feeling was still sticking to his ribs but it felt like he could breathe again. It was nice knowing for sure that he wasn't alone. Admitted, he couldn't talk to Cas about any of the issues but it would still be nice to vent about other things. Show off his car. Eat some pie. His elation lasted only until his eyes drifted to his brother's door. There wasn't a light on under it but he hadn't really been expecting it. With a sigh he dropped himself on their raggedy couch and turned on their small TV; for the first time he was happy that Sam had insisted on getting it. If Sam ever forgave him they'd have to go shopping for more furniture soon.

He wasted the few hours, until Rufus called him, idly watching nothing. He vaguely remembered seeing the weather and some reality TV show. A small thrilling pulse vibrated through him as he got dressed. It wasn't his best or anything but it was at least something he looked damn good in. Dean knew at the very least that the jeans he was wearing gave his ass and legs a nice enough shape. While he stared at his reflection in the mirror he refused to admit he was picking out an outfit that he hoped Cas would find interesting.

"Sam?"

Dean walked out towards Sam's room and knocked on the door. There was no response. He hadn't even asked his brother for his work schedule. For all he knew Sam was already long gone. Just in case, he tried anyway, "I'm headed out. Rufus is gonna be here with the car in a little bit, and uh, after that I'm going out with Cas." He paused. He'd expected at least a little bit of teasing from that. If nothing else the way he talked about his boss made Sam quirk his eyebrows at him. Still, no response. "I'll see you later."

He took the stairs two steps a time until he landed on the ground floor. His eyes searched the parking lot frantically for his car. He heard her before he saw her. He felt a shiver run through his body as the rumble came closer and he finally saw her sleek body roll up into his eyesight. The Impala glided to a smooth stop in front of him and his face lit up. He felt like jumping. Rufus stepped out of the car with an amused look on his face. Dean bypassed him and went to stroke the hood of his car.

"Hey baby," he said in awe, "did ya miss me?"

"What? No 'hello'?"

Dean laughed and marched over to his old chief. They wrapped themselves in a brief embrace, a hearty pat on the back, before pulling back. "Thanks, Rufus. Seriously. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to do it."

"Trust me, it's an honor. You're more protective of that car than your daddy ever was," Rufus chuckled, tossing Dean the keys.

"Oh baby, I have missed you," Dean said turning back to the car and cradling the keys gently. He paused lavishing love on his car to run back to Rufus. "Listen uh, do you want a beer or something? Or can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"To the airport would be nice," Rufus replied going to the other side of the car.

"Airport?"

"What? Did you think I was gonna walk back to Oklahoma?"

Dean chuckled and grinned a little as he slid into the driver's seat. "I guess not. Sure you don't have time for a beer?"

"I am still the head chief at the office Dean. Crime don't stop happening just because you're dropping off a car."

"Fair enough," Dean replied. He stroked his hands gently over the wheel. His thumbs caressed the grooves and bumps on the leather lining on it. He sighed in relief as he gripped the bottom of it, sliding his hands back up again.

"You want me to give you a minute?"

"Shut up."

The car rumbled to life and for a moment Dean was going to ask for that minute alone. He'd missed this. The Impala drove as smoothly as she had when he'd left her in Oklahoma City; one of the hardest decisions he'd ever had to make. He wasn't the type of man to put a lot of stock into material objects but this car was home, it was practically family. Until he was speeding down a highway to get to the airport he hadn't even realized how much he'd missed her. Missed driving. He left the windows rolled down and cranked the music up, ignoring the indulgent roll of eyes Rufus gave him.

The drive to the airport was shorter than Dean would've liked; although it probably hadn't helped that he'd been flirting with the speed limit the entire way.

"How's the office doing?" Dean asked as they pulled up to the drop off.

"The re-buildings going fine, hasn't gone back up in flames yet." Dark humor was the only way to deal with the situation.

Dean bit his lip,"Yeah. Good to know. No great office disasters?"

"No more than the usual. Things seem to be running along fine without you."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Dean shot back.

"How are things here?"

"Good, good. Just got back from the last case. I'm actually heading out to see Cas after this."

"Cas?"

"Agent Novak."

Rufus smirked and Dean didn't appreciate it one bit. "Getting friendly with the locals already."

"Shut it," Dean mumbled, a small blush reddening the back of his neck.

"Ain't my business, son. Not my department," he shrugged stepping out of the car. He paused briefly after closing the door to lean into the window. "Lisa and Ben are doing well."

Dean swallowed thickly, a knot forming in his belly. He'd been in touch with Ben over e-mails but for the most part hadn't taken the time to have a real conversation with Lisa. They hadn't parted on the best of terms and there was no reason to drag Ben into that. It had been civil enough but not something to warrant constant chatter. "Oh?"

"You should give them a call."

"Right, yeah. Will do, thanks Rufus."

Rufus tapped on the roof of the Impala and walked off with the small travel bag he'd taken with him. Dean sighed and slouched into the seat once the man was out of sight. He felt awful. Despite the few e-mails, ones without any real substance, he hadn't really spent anytime thinking of his old family. He and Lisa hadn't been together in years and he was only supposed to play surrogate until Lisa found a stable relationship. That didn't mean he regretted any of that time. If he was going to be honest with himself he'd thrive on being a parent. Sam hadn't needed him in years and it had been nice to be needed, to be looked up to like that again. Though maybe it had been for the best that he'd stepped out of their lives. Obviously something had gone wrong for Sam and him to get into the situation they were in now. He'd fucked up something in Sam's raising that had led him not to trust his older brother, to run off angry and bitter into danger. He shook his head and groaned into his hands. He wasn't meant to be alone; he had a tendency to get himself trapped in mental loops he knew he couldn't get out of.

Unconsciously his hand slipped into his pocket and before he knew it he had his phone out, thumb hovering over the 'call' button. Another reason for his distraction. Of course the job had taken up most of his time, he'd hit the ground running, but there was another reason he hadn't really been up to speed with Lisa.

"Hello?"

Dean hadn't realized he'd dialed. The rough voice snapped him out of his daze. "You ready to go?"

"In a few minutes I should be."

"Good, I just dropped Rufus off at the airport so you have a little bit. Hey, just realized I have no friggin' clue where you live-"

"If you can make it to the office, I can direct you from there. I'm going to assume with your aversion to technology you do not have a GPS in the car."

He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, one hand draped over it, and smiled. "Nothing a good ol' fashion map can't solve."

"At least you're not ornery enough to fight with them being installed in the FBI vehicles."

"Not my car, not my problem." Dean's chest felt aglow at the slow rumble of laughter that spilled from the receiver.

"Call me when you're ready for directions."

"You got it, boss."

The dark shroud that had managed to cloud over him again faded away as he made his way to the office. He knew at least enough about the area to find his way there. The instructions to Cas' apartment were a little more difficult to follow. Dean told Cas he was awful at giving directions. Cas had told him he had no sense of direction. Most of the conversation had been directions but there had still been a playful banter bounced back and forth that had Dean feeling down right giddy. He whistled as he pulled up to Cas' apartment complex. It was impressive.

He found Cas waiting at the bottom next to a parking spot. Dean had to softly let out an involuntary whistle again. He'd never seen Cas dressed so casually. A button up rolled to his elbows, god how had he not noticed just how shapely those forearms were, and jeans slung low on his hips. As Cas raised his hand up to wave him over the shirt rode up to reveal a mildly tanned hip bone. Dean licked his lips. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. His heart fluttered as Cas stepped off of the curb and approached him, eyes sliding along the car, the same way Dean admired attractive women (and in some cases men). Any man who could appreciate the finesse of his car was good in his books; it was just dangerous because he didn't think he should be allowed to find more things to like about his boss. While he was pretty sure he'd kept his flirting light, joking, there was nothing light or joking about what he imagined when he spent his nights alone in bed. When he imagined that body spread out underneath him, writhing and begging to be touched; that composed mask gone in place of blushed cheeks and whimpers.

Dean ground the heel of his palm into his dick and told himself to cool it. If he couldn't handle one little outing he might as well quit the job all together. He watched as Cas walked around the Impala, inspecting it before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. He looked good framed against the light leather and black window rim. Dean was fucked.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey Cas," Dean managed to grind out. He hoped it sounded casual enough.

"It's a beautiful car," Cas admitted looking around the interior. "Well kept."

Dean's chest puffed up with pride as he rubbed and appreciative hand across the dashboard. "I've re-built her myself. Every ding in the door every broken spark plug. Detailing. All me."

"You're very good with your hands."

"You have no idea," Dean shot back before he could control himself. The atmosphere had been so relaxed, so casual, he'd forgotten that tomorrow morning he would have to go on a case with the guy. He couldn't just throw lines like that out there, this wasn't a date.

To his relief, Cas chuckled. His eyes held a glow of amusement in them as he snapped his seat belt into place. "The evidence does point to incredible skill." Before Dean could blunder his way into more awkward conversation Cas spoke again. "I believe you've shown me your car. If I remember correctly I was promised pie next?"

He felt himself relaxing into his seat. This he could do, besides, they were friends; Cas had said so himself. Dean smirked and reversed out of the parking spot he'd pulled into it. "Too true, and a Winchester man never breaks his promise."

Dean was lucky that he was such an excellent driver. He truly was.

Wanting to feel the wind on his face, especially after being confined for so long, he'd left the windows down. The only down side was the sun shone straight into the car, lighting up the side of Cas' face, as the wind swept his hair back and forth. The air tugged at his bangs and there was a serene expression on his face as he kept his eyes closed. There was very little conversation but Dean could live with that as he cranked up the radio. AC/DC blasted through the speakers and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Cas smirking a little. Dean gulped as the other man sank further into the seat, letting the morning summer heat wash over him.

Castiel looked way too good in his car.

To his luck, and Dean rarely had any, he'd had the foresight to actual search up a good place that served pie. He wasn't sure if he could've handled driving around for much longer with Cas splayed out in his car. He'd never seen the man so relaxed. It gave him inappropriate fodder for his fantasies. While Dean was more comfortable topping, he liked the thrill (especially of taking apart stoic types like Cas), he had to fight from pushing Cas' seat back and nestling himself onto that lap.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty, we're here," Dean said with a smirk as he parked.

Cas opened one lazy eye and sat up. He popped off his seat belt and got out of the car, stretching. Dean did his best not to look. "I've never been here before."

"I'm not surprised," Dean remarked as he got out and locked the Impala. Cas gave him a look. "I mean you don't look like you get out of the office much. Explore the area."

For a moment he was worried he'd over-stepped his boundaries but Cas only gave the diner in front of them a contemplative look before turning to Dean. "No, I really don't. I suppose I've never had the interest to."

"And you do now?"

Cas gave him a searching stare that made his heart skid to a small stop before starting again. "I do now."

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The Impala felt safe. Seeing Dean's face, hearing his voice, had eased many of his worries, but when Castiel had slid into the car and they'd taken off; he'd felt safe. Dean was an exceptional driver. The only time that he'd experienced Dean's driving before had been on the chase after Meg Masters so many months ago. Castiel was to a certain level a bit of a control freak; it had been years (if ever) since he's felt comfortable closing his eyes as a passenger in someone elses vehicle. It helped that the car had a distinct smell of 'Dean' to it. It wasn't something he'd ever outright noticed. Even during his brief visit to the other man's apartment he'd been busy focusing on making sure he didn't drown in booze. The second visit had been too brief for him to take in much more than the other man; then Lisa had shown up. Despite them working together, they hadn't exactly spent a lot of time doing anything that would put them in such close proximity to each other.

But now, he could. Of course underneath it there was the smell of leather and oil; the smells you would expect to smell in a car. Layered on top it, however, was a scent purely unique to Dean. It was hard to describe with other than musky. Maybe something like sand heated by the sun; even that wasn't right. He'd been lulled into a nearly sleeping state by it. Coupled with his bad sleep from the nightmare and the comfort, he'd been momentarily concerned that he would truly fall asleep in the man's car. He wasn't sure if he could ever live that down.

Reluctantly he'd followed Dean out of the car. If he'd been able to voice an opinion he would've gladly stayed nestled in the warm leather seat the rest of the day. He'd still trailed after him, surprised at where they were, and sincerely realizing that he meant his answer to Dean's question. Never before had he cared much beyond work. He'd long lost any wants or desires past doing his job and making sure that he could save as many lives as possible. War robbed a man of certain things, tragedy stole certain qualities away. Castiel had never event felt the need to wander far past his apartment. He had a washing machine and a dryer, he always brought his car to get fixed by the company mechanic; the grocery store as about as far as he'd ever ventured. There hadn't been a practical reason to.

Dean made him want to explore. Well, as long as the man in question was with him.

He watched him march into the diner, holding the door open with one hand as an after thought, and find them a table. Castiel tried to keep a small smile from creeping onto his face as Dean dropped himself into a booth and let his legs splay out. The jeans pulled around his thigh muscles tightly and Cas averted his eyes, sliding in opposite him. His thighs weren't the only thing the jeans accented. He stayed silent as Dean took the lead, trusting him not to mislead them. He'd never been one for pastries or sweets but Dean had an excellent pallet.

After their orders had been put in Dean gave him a shy smile across the table, leaning on his forearms as he placed them down. Dean's eyes were one of his favorite features. He enjoyed the way the green brightened when he laughed. Castiel gave a tentative smile back. Silence passed between them and he noticed the longer it crept on the more his companion seemed to want to fidget in his seat.

"Is something wrong, Dean?"

"What?" Dean's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "No."

"You're not required to entrust your worries to me, but I noticed this morning there was something off." Blunt and to the point. He'd spent some time while waiting for Dean wondering what had spurred on the random outing. Not that he didn't appreciate it. He would've never initiated a casual outing on his own, but it was very out of the blue. He knew that Dean was a spontaneous person but even this had seemed a little left field.

Dean frowned. "What? I mean I know I don't usually make morning ca-"

Castiel shook his head softly, he noticed Dean' eyes linger on his hair for a moment. He brushed his bangs back off of his forehead, self conscious. He leaned over to the table, matching Dean's position, their fingers almost brushing. He could feel the heat radiating from them. "You sounded... stressed. I hope the job isn't straining you too much."

"Come on, Cas. We've been over this."

"That was a few cases ago," Catiel reminded him with a tilt of his head.

Dean huffed and rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He watched as Dean lifted one of his arms, leaning back in the booth, and stretching it behind his head. He looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for guidance and sighed. "The job is fine, just, personal shit." The pie arrived and Dean separated their plates for them. "Family, issues."

Castiel nodded although he couldn't really relate. He hadn't had family in years and what he knew of...well. "My apologies. Is Sam okay?"

Before Dean could stop, he scoffed and shook his head. He bit into the pie and let his lips slide along the fork. Castiel watched, fascinated, as Dean's tongue darted out to lick the filling from the edge.

"Just, some stupid shit. It's my own damn fault. I have a tendency of fucking things up."

"I'm not sure I would agree with that."

"Oh and what would you know?"

"Would you really like to me to tell you? From what I have learned of you, Dean Winchester, is that you do not take to praise well."

Dean blushed a little and stuffed another piece of pie into his mouth.

"I wouldn't have given the recommendation for you to transfer if I did not believe in you."

"As an agent."

"As a human being."

Castiel held his eyes, willing the faith he had in the man to push through, until Dean looked down and slid his eyes to the window.

"You're a crap judge of character," Dean mumbled petulant.

"You judge yourself too harshly." Castiel smiled. Despite his posture at the very least it seemed that Dean's focus had drifted from whatever family problems he was having to the compliment. He'd have to remember this tactic for the next time Dean sought him out. He'd never been particularly good at comfort. Most people would find him too frigid, blunt, or off the mark. When he gave critique or compliments he was always sincere but many had told him that he didn't quite know how to deliver it. They told him he lacked expression.

It warmed him to think that Dean didn't think so.

He took in a deep breath and braved inching his hand forward to lay it gently on top of Dean's outstretched arm. "I have faith in you. Whatever it is, this will pass."

Dean didn't move his arm away until several moments later to take another bite of his pie. When Dean dropped him back off at the apartment he heard a muttered thank you.

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Sam had been avoiding him since their argument. Dean knew for a fact that he'd at least been home because there was a pot in the sink that hadn't been there before and tupawared leftovers in the fridge. While a part of him had been hoping that he wouldn't have to confront his brother, not after having a pretty good day, he was equally disappointed to come into an empty kitchen. He let out a bitter laugh, at himself, when he noticed a work schedule stuck to the fridge on a magnet that looked like Sam had nicked it from work. He had an early shift tomorrow which meant his brother was already passed out, or at least trying to be.

He should've come home earlier.

After dropping Cas off he'd spent some time, his head reeling, in the Impala. He told himself he was just watching to make sure the he made it safe back into the building and to his apartment. It was bull shit of course but if there was anything Dean was really good at; it was lying to himself. He told himself it was a malfunction in his heart, when Cas had turned around to wave at him and his heart had fluttered. When he'd started to feel like a creeper he'd taken off, driving aimlessly and getting himself blissfully lost. He'd also told himself that he was just enjoying driving the Impala again instead of avoiding his brother. Instead of being a coward.

And now he'd missed his chance. He rubbed a tired hand across his eyes and dug his fingers in a little. He stopped only when spots started to appear. He took his hand away and heated up some of the food that Sam had left him. Other than the pie he hadn't even remembered to eat anything. Of course he'd had a hearty breakfast but not much else. At the very least he could assume that Sam wasn't too pissed off at him if he'd remembered to section off a piece of lunch for him. This was fixable.

But it would have to wait, they had another work day ahead of them in the morning. He'd be gone and at the office before Sam had a chance to wake up.

Dean went to be to thoughts of windswept hair and eyes bluer than the sky.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, had some person stuff. I'm gonna try and go back to the Monday updating schedule but we'll see. I had two cases that were supposed to go into this chapter and then the destiel got out of control and I couldn't pull it back so the cases go into the next two chapters (which means next chapter for sure I'm introducing a new character that people seem to like.) STILL un-beta'd since my beta is busy with school. :]