Bobby had a rather difficult time resisting the urge to drive to Dean's apartment.
The kid was fine, for crying out loud. He'd banged his head a little and now he had trouble with his memories, but that was absolutely no reason to start freaking out –
Who was he kidding. He hadn't stopped freaking out since he had entered the shop and found Dean.
He hadn't heard from or seen Dean in two days, and while this wasn't strange, he'd been acting a little weird lately, so he decided to take him out to lunch, if Cas hadn't brought him something already (and how Dean could still be convinced that there was nothing between them when Cas spent his own lunch break bringing him his meals, Bobby would never know). God knew he deserved a treat.
He owned a scrap yard. He'd seen his fair share of wrecked vehicles and had smelled enough left-over blood from accidents.
Never had it churned his stomach as it had when he walked in, calling for Dean, and became aware of the heavy smell in the room.
He looked around the room and saw the drawer.
And Dean's hand, poking out from underneath –
He staggered forward without realizing, automatically pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He didn't expect Dean to have a pulse as he kneeled, waiting for the numbness he felt to leave, for pain and grief to seep through, when he felt Dean's heart beating.
"And here I thought my day was going to be fine," Rufus' voice reached his ears, seemingly miles away, and Bobby shook himself out of his stupor. He didn't remember dialling.
"Dean – there's been an accident. Come to the shop".
He hung up. He'd never been more thankful that Rufus didn't live far from the garage and the scrap yard.
In the meantime, he called Jody.
"It's going to be okay," he muttered as the phone rang, holding on to Dean's hand. "You're gonna be okay, boy".
"Hello, Bobby".
"A drawer fell on Dean in the shop. It's too heavy, I can't move it on my own. Rufus is on his way, can you call the paramedics?"
He needed to get this thing off of Dean. He needed to see him breathe.
"Of course," Jody replied, calm, professional. It was what Bobby needed.
"Thank you," he said, and hung up without another word. He could apologize later.
He wouldn't be able to say later how long he had been waiting, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Rufus' old car raced down the street and was parked next to Dean's in such a haphazard fashion that Dean would have thrown a hissy fit.
Rufus came in and Bobby let go of his boy's hand reluctantly.
They managed to get the drawer of him, and he swore that he would burn the damn thing.
Dean was lying still, his breathing was laboured. There was blood on his face and chest.
He looked lifeless.
They automatically put him in the recovery position, Bobby running his fingers through his hair afterwards, continuing to mumble assurances, for him or Dean, he couldn't say.
Rufus was holding onto his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, but he didn't complain.
The paramedics arrived, Jody soon afterwards. Bobby barely paid attention and would have jumped into the Impala to follow the car immediately if she had not forced him to drink a glass of water and take a few breaths before Rufus drove him to the hospital.
The image of Dean lying there, Dean, who had always been so full of vivacity, wouldn't leave him.
His doorbell rang out and he forced himself off the couch.
He found Jody, wearing casual clothes, with a plastic bag that smelled delicious and a comforting smile.
"I wanted to make sure you ate a proper meal".
Damn, that woman knew the way to a guy's heart.
He really hadn't eaten much in the last week. Finding the kid you loved like your own almost dead didn't do much for your appetite.
Jody's cooking was delicious, though. And Bobby wanted someone to talk to.
"Dean came to see me today," he said, "Cas in tow, of course. Sam had to leave for a few days – Stanford screwed up some paperwork".
She nodded sympathetically, feeling that this was not what he wanted to talk about.
"Dean figured out I've been paying the bills".
She didn't look surprised. Of course she'd known, she was a damn fine officer.
"We talked and now he's okay with it. But – he won't be, once he remembers. You know how he is".
Dean would be appalled, thinking that this kind of money should not be spent on him, not understanding that Bobby would gladly have shouldered the responsibility of a parent when it came to the boys.
"It doesn't have to be like that," she argued, and he stared at her in amazement.
"I know I haven't been around much the past few days – " Her face coloured with shame simply because she had been working much, and Bobby reached out before he could think about it and took her hand.
"Trust me, Dean'll understand."
She smiled and continued, "But Dean has been surrounded by people who love him. He's seen how others see him. That has to go through that thick head of his."
Bobby chuckled. He still hadn't let go of her hand.
"I hope it will," he said, and he could see that she understood his other hope as well, the one he didn't want to talk about.
He was still holding her hand. She made no objection.
He cleared his throat.
"There's one other thing I wanted to talk about..."
They watched two more movies before deciding to call it a night, Dean spending most of his time watching the light of the television throwing shadows on Cas' face.
He had learned from Cas' reaction to his spontaneous hug that this was not something they did, so he was surprised when, as they were saying goodnight, his friend pulled him in his arms.
In the next moment, before he was even aware of it, he was squeezing him back, holding on firmly as if he was afraid of letting go.
When he realized, he let his arms drop to his sides immediately.
Cas took a step back, and even though they'd turned off most lights already, Dean could see that he was blushing. So perhaps he hadn't imagined Cas' other blushes after all...
But did that mean –
Before he had come to a decision, they had said goodnight and Cas had closed the door to the guest room behind him.
What just happened?
Dean went to bed, trying not to think about it.
He didn't succeed.
Cas leaned against the door, angry at himself. The last time Dean had hugged him, he had clearly shown his surprise at the show of affection, and now, just because he could, just because he was suspecting that Dean was wrongly assuming he had feelings for Cas, he had hugged him and left.
What gave him the right to sit as close to Dean as he had, and to hug him just like that?
Nothing. Nothing gave him the right, and nothing ever would.
He was pulling out his phone before he had made the conscious decision, desperate to talk to someone, anyone.
Sam obviously was not the person to call about his feelings for his brother, and how he was using his friend's amnesia to get close to him in a way he wouldn't appreciate, would maybe be angry at him for later; Gabriel was working a shift and besides, Cas didn't want to be told to "Just go with the flow, bro"; so that left Balthazar.
He only realized how late it had gotten when Balthazar answered, clearly having just woken up.
"Cassie?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize – "
"What's going on?"
Calm. Precise. Balthazar could be annoying, aggressive, and unpleasant if he wanted to be, but he had heard that Cas was upset and wanted to help.
Cas sighed. "It's – " he stopped because he didn't really know what "it" was.
"Dean's brother had to leave for a few days, and it's just him and me, and we..." he trailed off.
After a pause, Balthazar exclaimed, "You didn't!"
Cas would scarcely have been more disgusted with himself if he had. "No, I didn't. But – we are close – "
"You have been like Siamese twins since before I met you. I fail to see the problem".
"I think he thinks he might be developing a crush on me," Cas said quickly.
Another pause.
"Again, I fail to see the problem. You have been in love with him for years".
Cas was too stunned to reply. He had always prided himself on his ability to hide his feelings for his beautiful best friend. Gabriel knew because he wasn't comfortable keeping secrets from his brother, and it was not surprising that Sam, smart and intuitive and used to seeing them together since he was pre-pubescent, had noticed.
But Balthazar – he was Cas' friend and colleague. He had of course met Dean on a fair number on occasions. But he was certain – he had grown so used to not giving anything away that it had become his second nature. He would never act untowardly towards Dean.
Somehow, Cas knew Balthazar would be looking at him with pity if they were standing face to face.
"It's not that difficult to figure out," he continued. "I have been wondering why you aren't together, to be honest."
"Dean's straight."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
"Balthazar, you can't – " Cas took a deep breath and began again. "He is. And I have to control myself around him, even though he's giving me signs that he might be interested. He can't really feel what he thinks towards me. Otherwise, it would have happened before. He's not himself right now and I can't take advantage of that fact".
"You aren't. And I'm sure you won't. I know you, Cassie. Trust me."
He felt himself growing a little calmer at those words. He had needed the reassurance that he was a decent human being who would under no circumstances use Dean's "crush" against him.
"Thank you," he said honestly, and Balthazar sighed.
"Honestly, you'll be the death of me. Night, Cassie. Let me know how it's going".
He promised he would and they hung up.
Although Balthazar had told him nothing but what he wanted to hear, Cas felt better.
Dean soon found that apparently a hug was enough to make his heart beat wildly in his chest, and he had to read for half an hour before he became calm enough to attempt to sleep.
Eventually, he succeeded.
They were sitting at a pier.
"I don't understand, Dean," Cas said, his voice laced with infinite patience, "we have never gone fishing before. And you don't even like fish".
"Thought I'd try," he answered simply, shrugging.
"Is this about Sam?" Cas inquired casually, and Dean kept staring at the fishing rod he had no idea how to use. Sammy had left for college two weeks ago.
"He's happy," he said gruffly. "That's all that matters".
"What about you?"
"What about me? I'm not important. Sam is the one getting an education".
The one getting the life he dreamed of. The one who deserved it.
"Dean, you matter to me".
He smiled at Cas, and the familiar fondness that overcame him sometimes in his friend's presence washed over him.
As always, he had known exactly what he needed to hear.
Dean woke up. It was still dark outside, and he was thoroughly confused.
He would have believed that he had just remembered something, and that would have been good, hell, great even, but...
He had still had feelings for Cas in that dream. And they were only friends.
It took him a long time to fall asleep once more.
At breakfast – okay, it was time for lunch, but they had just gotten up, so breakfast it was – he was still occupied with the strange dream, and Cas noticed.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, startling Dean out of his reverie.
"What? Yes. I just had a weird dream..." He paused, then continued, deciding he had to know once and for all.
"Did we go fishing? A few weeks after Sam left for college, perhaps?"
The look of pure undulated delight on Cas' face was answer enough.
Dean really tried to be happy, but he was mostly confused. In his dream, he had felt the same towards Cas as he did now – very un-platonic. Was that just because he was working his current state into his memories?
"What do you remember?"
"Just that we tried fishing and that I was pretty bummed that Sam left" he replied, realizing at the same time that since he had experienced this sadness at his brother being gone, he was missing him a little more than before.
"He kept in touch, though," Cas reminded him, "and he's done with college, so – "
"Do you really think he'll settle in Lawrence when he could be a big-shot lawyer in New York or wherever he wanted to be?" Dean inquired, suddenly feeling upset at the thought of Sam moving far away.
Cas gave him a disappointed look and Dean recalled how his brother had looked when he had woken up in the hospital. Of course Sam wanted to be near him. They were brothers. They were close.
"Being stupid, sorry," he shrugged, and if Cas was surprised at him being easily convinced, he didn't show it.
Cas was happy. Ecstatic, even. He wanted nothing more than to call Sam, even though Dean had only remembered one thing.
And it was Dean's right to tell him. In fact, he was already taking out his phone, throwing Cas one of the looks he'd gotten used to in the last week and that he realized with self-disgust he would miss dearly.
Jess had gotten up early to study for the exam tomorrow, even though Sam had tried to convince her to relax. But when he had seen the expression on her face he had decided to let her have her way.
He was making her lunch – he hoped grilled chicken breast was okay since all he'd gotten from her when he had inquired had been an annoyed grumble – when Dean called, and Sam hadn't even said a word before he blurted out, "I remembered".
Sam was still trying to comprehend when Dean said, "Not everything, just one memory, me and Cas fishing after you went to college, but it's a start".
And it was the way Dean said "after you went to college", as he used to, with a hint of pride in his voice, that Sam truly began to hope.
Like he had said, it was a start.
"I don't know why I like you, Singer," Jody complained.
Bobby, who was busy taking apart the drawer so it could be moved out of the shop and using more force than was strictly necessary, looked down at her. "You were the one who took the sponge away from me".
She snorted, continuing to scrub the floor. "Because you have no idea how to remove blood stains".
"Not really my area of expertise."
She continued to grumble as she cleaned the floor, but it was clear she wasn't really angry. Bobby couldn't suppress a smile. Jody actually liked him. He had no idea what had made a woman like her take an interest in him – it might well have been the dumbest thing she'd ever done – but he wasn't going to question it.
Now all he needed was for Dean to remember. And to grow a pair concerning Cas.
Bobby was certain that all regulars, precious few they were, had by now seen the sign on the door, and Dean had never had much of a walk-in business, so he hadn't thought to lock the door behind them.
He was reminded of it when he heard someone exclaim weakly, "Oh my God".
Jody jumped up with the reflexes years in the service had given her. Bobby turned to see a big bulky man leaning against the door frame. He was pale, staring at the blood Jody hadn't yet managed to clean.
"Benny," he greeted him. Sam had had his problems with the guy when he arrived, but Bobby liked him. He'd been a good employee and was still a good friend to Dean.
"Where's Dean?" he asked, regaining his composure and strolling in.
"He's fine," Bobby said. "Well, mostly".
Benny obviously wanted that clarified, so he added, "That drawer fell on him. He woke up in the hospital, but his memory's gone."
"What do you mean, gone?" Benny demanded, and Bobby was touched at his concern.
"He can't remember his life. He knows stuff, though – like when the Revolutionary War was or how to drive. But personal stuff, nothing."
Benny blinked slowly, letting it all sink in before sighing with relief.
"I couldn't reach him. And he doesn't even have Facebook because he's allergic to everything from this century. Elizabeth said not to bother, but I had to check."
"Did you ride here on your bike?"
Benny nodded. "Non-stop," he admitted.
He looked at Jody. "Sorry for barging in, ma'am".
She shook her head. "I understand, really. We've all been very worried."
Benny smiled briefly before asking, "Do you think I could go see him?"
"He's been handling stuff pretty well," Bobby said. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. Sam's not there, had to go to Stanford for a few days, but Cas is with him".
Benny nodded, turned around and left with a short greeting, walking back to the bike he'd parked on the spot usually reserved for the Impala.
"It might spark something," Jody supplied.
Bobby could only agree.
Cas was working on a paper. He might have been on leave, but he still had to work, and Dean had encouraged him not to get behind of his behalf. Thankfully, owing to the progress of technology, he could write and still keep an eye on Dean – not that it was necessary.
He was surprised when his phone rang and he saw that it was Bobby calling him. Not only had he sent a text to say good morning to Dean not long ago, but he would certainly have rather called him?
He understood immediately however when Bobby began.
"Benny's coming over. He was worried when he couldn't reach Dean".
"Did he drive all the way?"
"Barely took a break".
Cas had never doubted Benny's friendship and loyalty to Dean, even as Sam had continued to watch his every move. He also knew that he and Dean spoke frequently on the phone, so Benny must have wondered when Dean didn't pick up – his phone having been broken by the drawer.
He had not expected that Benny would ride his motorcycle for twelve hours straight just to check up on him, and he felt guilty that he hadn't thought about apprising him of the situation.
"Dean" he called out.
Dean was sitting on the sofa, reading something on the device Cas secretly despised because there was nothing like a real book when it came to reading, but looked up immediately.
"Yeah?"
It suddenly dawned on Cas that he had been so concentrated on the book that he hadn't heard him getting a call, and this was simply too adorable for him to contemplate.
"Bobby called me to inform us that Benny is coming over".
Dean frowned. "Benny? The big guy with the motorcycle?"
"Exactly".
"But doesn't he live in Louisiana?"
"Yes".
"That's a long ride".
"He wanted to check up on you because you weren't answering his phone calls", Cas replied and Dean's eyes widened.
"And he drove all the way for that?"
"We have endeavoured to convince you for years that the Internet might actually be an acceptable way of communicating, but you wouldn't listen".
"Of course I didn't," Dean muttered. "EBook readers seem to be okay, though".
Cas chuckled. "Benny will be here soon".
"Looking forward to seeing him," Dean responded. He was. As awesome as his family had turned out to be (most of them, but he wasn't going to go there when he had someone coming over) he had apparently few to none close friends except for Cas and that guy Benny. Plus, Sam apparently didn't like him very much and Dean would like to know why.
They had barely waited for ten minutes before the doorbell rang, and Dean got up to get it.
He was somewhat taken aback when something the size of a grizzly bear drew him in a crushing hug.
The next moment, he was released and happily gasping for air, and the grizzly bear stepped back, apologizing.
"Sorry, brother. I'm just so damned relieved to see you're okay. Well, mostly".
"Hey, Benny," he greeted him.
He grinned.
"Remember me? Anything coming back?"
"No," he admitted. "But I can't remember my brother, and I only have one vague memory of Cas, so..."
"I won't take it was an insult, then," Benny replied and Dean realized he was blocking the entrance and stepped back.
Cas, being his usual polite self, had stayed in the living room to give them some privacy, so Dean said, "Cas is here, too".
Benny nodded and they walked in, Cas looking up from his laptop.
"Hello, Benny".
"Cas. He gave me a good fright, I'm telling you, man. He never misses our weekly calls."
"I should have made you aware of what had happened," Cas answered, shaking his hand. "I'm sorry".
"Don't be. I imagine it was quite the hassle".
Cas looked away, not wanting to remember Dean in the hospital, lying in the bed, lifeless and unconscious.
Benny seemed to notice because he changed the subject.
"How about you two get comfy and I make us lunch? Elizabeth has taught me a trick or two".
Cas didn't miss the implication, and he was sure that neither did Dean; Benny simply gave them an easy smile and started going through the drawers.
He was beginning to wonder if everyone knew of his feelings for Dean. He should never have bothered trying to hide them, apparently.
"Cas?" Dean asked and he shook his head.
"I'm going to try and finish the paper, can't make Balthazar do all the work," he said. "Why don't you..." he made a subtle gesture towards Benny and Dean understood. He smiled and asked him if he needed help. Considering he worked in his cousin's restaurant, Cas was inclined to think the answer was no, but Benny seemed glad of Dean's offer. He'd done right.
Cas escaped to the old myths that had so often given him comfort. He did his best to fight the small panic that had made a home in his chest when Benny had made him see that his feelings were obvious even to those who didn't know him all that well.
And if they knew –
He let himself fall in the chair, staring blankly at the document. Did Dean know? Had Dean always known?
And if he had – if he'd done nothing –
Cas had believed that he had long ago let go of all hope, that he had never hoped in the first place.
He learned he was wrong.
He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and, when that failed, began to read through the text, desperately attempting to remember what he had written about.
"Gonna make one of your favourites, if it's alright with you, brother," Benny said, and Dean nodded.
"I've been trying everything, so why not?"
Benny started chopping meat. Of course. Dean apparently had never eaten anything else, and he'd seen the suspicious glances Sam kept shooting him when he happily devoured the salad that came with the dinner they'd had on Sunday night.
"How did we meet?" he asked suddenly because the man who was ready to just up and drive across the country to look after him interested him immensely.
"I mean – " he added when he became aware that this couldn't be easy on Benny, but the other man shook his head.
"No problem. Figures you'd want to know. I'm just glad you're handling this well".
Dean shrugged. "Not much else to do. Could freak out, but the therapist says I shouldn't".
"What do you do in therapy anyway?"
"Talk, mostly".
Benny took the answer as it was and began to talk of their first meeting.
"I was in a motorcycle gang," he simply said and Dean stared at him.
"You mean – "
"I was a criminal, yeah. Robberies, mostly. A few charges for assault. Then, one day, things got ugly. I met a beautiful girl on the side of the road, trying to get her car to start working again. Andrea".
He sounded wistful and sad, and Dean had no doubt how the story would end.
"The Old Man, our boss, didn't like it." He paused and when he continued, Dean noticed how difficult he found it to talk about it.
"Bad stuff happened and – she died". He winced and looked at Dean. "Sorry, man. But you know all this, or should know – "
"No, really, you don't have to go into detail," Dean said. "Really," he repeated when Benny's expression grew doubtful, and the relief in his eyes told him he'd done the right thing.
"I didn't know where to go – after. I just left. Hopped on my bike and was gone the next moment. I kept driving, I don't remember for how long, it all jumbles together, but then my bike broke around near Bobby's and he pointed me to your place. I was ready to drop by the time I'd pushed it there".
He looked up and smiled.
"You came out immediately, and when you saw the state I was in, you offered to fix it for free, as well as some coffee. And then I just – started talking. Everything came out. You could have called the police on me, but you didn't. You asked me about my plans. Told you I had a cousin in Louisiana who'd maybe take me in. You offered me a job right then and there until I was ready to make contact".
He paused for a moment, then continued, "And I'm sorry to tell you, brother, but it was pretty obvious you couldn't afford to rent help. But I was desperate, so I took it".
"Did it help?" Dean inquired.
"Hell yeah. Got used to a regular schedule and everything, and I eventually called Elizabeth. I work in her restaurant now, keeping on the straight and narrow".
He shot Dean a look that was nothing short of pure adoration, and Dean shifted around on his feet, feeling a little uncomfortable.
But at the same time, it was nice that Benny was being so open. He was completely honest with him and would no doubt answer every question Dean had for him –
He was struck by a thought.
He appreciated Sam's and Cas' help, but more than once, he'd had the feeling that they were holding certain things back from him. Not exactly lying, but not talking about them. His father certainly was one of those things.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I'm an open book".
"Do you know my dad?"
Benny's shoulders tensed and Dean knew he'd been right. There was something Sam and Cas didn't want him to know.
Had their father been abusive? He swallowed as he recalled inviting him to sit next to his hospital bed, joking and laughing together. What if he had ever hit them?
"He's a dick," Benny said simply and Dean stared at him.
"Sorry. I just thought you wanted to know the truth – "
"I do. So you two don't get on?"
Benny snorted. "Nobody really gets on with your father, as far as I can tell".
Dean waited for him to continue. He'd thought that Dad and Bobby were friends, and he'd understood that he came to the shop regularly, so they had to have a somewhat good relationship, right?
"When I asked you why he always came to inspect the shop and make sure you had changed nothing, you said he had had a hard time ever since your mum died, so you tried not to upset him. But then, you're always making excuses for him. He was never around, he drank, you raised your kid brother more or less on your own, and he was always talking you down, the whole time he was in the garage, and he didn't want me there either, and you opposed him there, but all the other crap – you just took it. And if you ask me, or your brother, or Bobby, or Cas, you're amazing, so I never got your father's problem. So that's what I meant by 'he's a dick'".
Dean let it all sink in slowly. So that was why Sam had always seemed strangely distant when their father was around.
Then, of course, Benny couldn't know anything; but since he at the same time reflected what his father's behaviour had been to him, so unlike Bobby's, which spoke of real affection, the sort of love that a parental figure ought to have shown, it was no big stretch to suppose that John Winchester had never really been a good father.
As for him raising Sam... Yes, Dean decided, he could believe it. Sam's desperation about his condition that he had glimpsed a few times, when his brother's guard had been down and he had openly shown that he fervently wished he would remember everything and be his big brother again, as well as his relief that Dean had experienced firsthand when he had woken up, spoke of their close relationship; in fact, it seemed to be surmised, at least by Cas, that Sam would return to Lawrence once he was a fully certified lawyer, and it was easy to deduce that his own residence there played no small part in his decision.
So what was more logical than to believe Benny? He'd seen his father the worse for drink; it was easy to suppose he'd drunk when they had been children, too. Of course he'd be the one to care for Sam, then, with help of Bobby and Jody and even Rufus, from time to time.
Benny had been nothing but obliging and honest with him, and Dean hoped he could convey his thanks by helping him out with his cooking; he was chopping the tomatoes, which Benny had explained, "Just add to the flavour, I know you're not a big fan of vegetables, but – "
"I don't mind a salad now and then," he'd replied absent-mindedly, his mind still focused on what his and Sam's lives must have been like, and missed Benny's questioning glance.
Cas was still working on his paper. Dean didn't know how far he'd come, but knowing that he undoubtedly wished it to be perfect, and having learned of his passion for the subject ever since he woke up, it could be quite some time, prompting him to ask one other question.
"Benny – Can I –" He stopped, biting his lip. Should he ask? After all, it was his and Cas' relationship he was thinking of, something Benny really had nothing to do with. On the other hand, he really wanted to know...
"Sure, chief. Shoot".
"Me and Cas..." he trailed off, unsure how to ask.
Luckily Benny guessed his meaning.
"Honestly? I could never figure out why you two weren't dating. He looks at you like you hung the stars, and you're just as bad".
Dean blushed. "I'm sure – I know I'm bi, so shouldn't something have happened by now – "
He stopped abruptly when he saw Benny's mouth hanging open.
"What?" he inquired, instantly defensive when he suspected that his sexuality made Benny uncomfortable.
"Just never expected you to talk about it so casually," Benny explained, guessing his thoughts.
"Why?"
"You're not out. Not even to yourself".
Now he was just confused.
"What?"
"It's kind of obvious. You look at the male population just like you do at the female one, and it's never been a problem for me. You like what you like, right? But you... You were always the manliest man-man to ever man, man".
Dean blinked and stared at Benny, making it obvious how he felt about the description, and a second later, they were both laughing.
"Alright, maybe not that bad," Benny conceded, "but you would never have entertained a thought of being bi."
"I found out pretty quickly".
"Let me guess. Cas walked in?"
Dean coloured but mumbled an affirmative reply, and Benny shook his head, bemused, before growing serious.
"Promise me something, chief".
"What is it?" he asked, somewhat cautious.
"Remember this when you're back to normal. That's all".
Dean could easily imagine what he meant, but his mind was still reeling with what he had learned. He had denied his sexuality, his feelings for Cas (if Benny was right, but he was ready to believe him), most likely every desire he'd ever had that didn't fit in his self-image of the "manly man". And yet at the same time he watched soap operas and was apparently great with kids and liked to cook and read hundreds of books in secret.
It didn't make sense. Why would he ignore his being drawn to men in the first place? This wasn't the Middle Ages. Did he really consider being manly that important? Dean didn't. Not at all. By now he was reasonably acquainted with his feelings so that he knew he would jump at any chance of being with Cas. Watching soap operas was fine by him, reading was great, he definitely wanted to rearrange the furniture in the garage.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that instead of moving forward to remembering who he was, he might be moving away.
To break the tension and get rid of the negative thoughts, he said, "So I raised Sam and made a law-abiding citizen out of you, and according to Sam and Cas I'm just awesome in general – are there any other things I should know? Did I like to walk on water, by any chance?"
Before Benny could answer, Cas strolled in, undoubtedly drawn in by the smell of the meal, which to Benny's credit was wonderful.
"I gotta leave tomorrow," he informed them with regret. "Elizabeth didn't think me freaking out warranted a vacation."
"Don't worry, I'm well cared for," Dean answered before realizing what he'd said and blushing furiously.
Cas' eyes dropped to his plate. Benny, who was watching them both intently, made the resolution of speaking to Dean's best friend alone before he left.
The opportunity arose sooner than he had thought because Bobby and Jody showed up some time in the afternoon to announce they'd cleaned the garage. Dean was eager to see it, and he and Cas hopped into the Impala while Benny followed on his bike. He could have driven forwards, but after the fear of the last few days, he preferred being able to watch Dean drive in front of him. And it couldn't hurt to give them a little more time together.
Hearing Dean ask so casually about his own sexuality had been a shock. Benny had pretty soon figured out that he liked guys, too, and he hadn't thought twice about it. Whatever made Dean happy was fine by him.
The problem was, of course, that Dean hadn't been happy, in spite of his belief that he was. Benny had always been astonished at his friend's capacity of self-deception. Especially when it came to Cas. Benny's first impression, on the very day he started working at the shop and Cas stormed in because Dean had informed him he'd hired someone, had been that he was dealing with a concerned boyfriend.
Luckily, he'd introduced himself so that Benny hadn't talked to Dean about it. He'd later come to appreciate this all the more because of Dean's assured and long-practiced denial of anything that didn't fit his father's image of him.
All in all, Benny couldn't help but come to the conclusion that, if this led to what he had hoped would happen all along, the amnesia might not be so bad after all.
Dean didn't want to ask. They were going to the shop, to see Bobby's and Jody's work, and, as Dean intended, to plan the renovations that he deemed necessary, as far as he could afford them – to his shame, apart from asking about the hospital bills, he had paid little heed to his financial status.
And he really should ask Sam first. Whatever their upbringing, Sam would know. Sam would be honest with him. He deserved to be the first –
But if he were to ask about Dad? Cas could at least tell him about Dad and the allusions Benny had made to him "talking Dean down". What had he meant? Dean hadn't inquired at the moment because he was taking everything in, but now...
He cleared his throat, although he left his eyes firmly on the road. Since his crush came with a staring problem, it would hardly be safe to turn his head while he was driving.
"I talked to Benny".
"I knew you would," Cas calmly replied.
"And he said – some stuff," Dean finished, feeling foolish.
"He did?"
There could be no mistaking the anxiety in Cas' voice, and in his surprise, Dean looked at him after all, but Cas was watching him with nothing but curiosity. He forced himself to look away.
"It was about Dad". He felt Cas stiffen, the friendly atmosphere in the car changing, becoming tense, uncomfortable. Cas had barely said a word about Dad. Even when they had met, they had seldom spoken to one another, and Dean suddenly found it strange that he hadn't asked Cas for the reason of this apparent dislike.
"He said Dad wasn't exactly – that he drinks, and well, I have eyes, so I kind of expected that, but he also said that he 'puts me down' and isn't a very good father, and I – " He stopped. Cas would know what to say. He always did.
For a second, he had feared. For a second, he had been frozen, scared that Benny had told Dean, had let him know that Cas loved him, had for years and would surely for many more to come, if he didn't know already; he should have known better. He should have known Benny better. His past might not have been the best, but he was a good friend to Dean and, in extension, to Cas as well.
They had kept Dean from the knowledge he was seeking, they had deliberately suppressed information that would distress him. He would have preferred it to have Sam with him, but maybe it was just as well. He was not kept back by any remaining love and respect the younger Winchester might have felt for their father, and Dean deserved, needed, to know the truth.
"That he isn't 'a very good father' is an understatement in my opinion. I've never liked him, and he's never liked me, as you have undoubtedly noticed. He always pushed his responsibilities on to you, which of course led you to be overprotective and paternal when it came to Sam. You were a child, saddled with the role of an adult. When we first met, you'd hurry home after school to make Sam a warm meal. Your father ignored your efforts and you soon told me that he expected you to take over his garage. So you did. You once..." he trailed off, realizing that he might reveal too much and say something he would eventually regret because it would make Dean angry, but he only said, "Come on, Cas. Please".
"You mentioned McPherson College and their courses on restoration. Your father laughed at the very idea of you going to college and that was that". He was well aware that his hostility towards John Winchester was bleeding into his voice, but he'd gone too far to stop, and he had longed to say this for a long time.
"After that, you never spoke of it again, even though you clearly possess the mental faculties necessary to accomplish anything you want, and your father kept you here and made you work in the old garage and would never allow you to change a thing, and he always checked on you even though you did great work, and he always told you that you weren't as clever or good as Sam, but you are, really, and – "
"Whoa, Cas. Lay off the worship there. I don't want people to build creepy religions around me. We got Scientology for that, remember?"
Cas blushed and looked at his hands, out the window, everywhere but at Dean.
Dean was miraculously still focusing on his driving, which could be the only reason his hand, when he reached out to him, landed on his thigh and patted it a few times.
"Always glad to hear compliments, though. And I appreciate the honesty, Cas. Seriously".
A comfortable silence fell between them and Cas, after he had come to terms with Dean patting his thigh, realized that he hadn't argued. He hadn't told Cas he must be wrong. He had accepted what he had told him.
His own observations of John must have already made him suspect that their relationship was not the best; and he trusted Cas' judgement.
For now.
Cas dreaded what would happen when Dean remembered.
Dean had no time to bestow on the fact that he had just patted his best friend's thigh as if he had a right to (he'd probably freak out about it later) because he was thinking about Dad. He had only heard what he had already suspected. He remembered nothing of his dad that was inconsistent with the picture Cas had painted – he even had asked repeatedly when Dean was going back to work when he had other stuff to deal with.
To be assured by Cas that he was a good and smart man was something, however; and since it was obvious that Cas wouldn't be friends with someone stupid because he was really freaking smart himself, Dean was much inclined to believe him.
It sucked that his dad sucked. But with Sam and Cas and Bobby and the others, Dean thought he could manage.
He parked at the garage and they got out of the car. Cas was wearing a blue t-shirt that brought out his eyes, and Dean was not checking him out. He was concentrating on the shop. Absolutely.
Bobby and Jody really had done a good job; there wasn't a drop of blood anywhere and the drawer was gone.
Dean had only begun to express his gratitude when Benny entered and whistled.
"Good job on that drawer". Then he looked rather sheepish and added, "I really should have helped – "
"Please. Dean's more important than a drawer, ain't that right, son?"
"I hope so," Dean replied lightly at the same time Cas answered, "He is".
Dean turned to look at him and was surprised by the intensity and sincerity in his eyes. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Could it be – could Cas reciprocate? Did he have feelings for him? No, impossible. They had been friends for too long.
Bobby cleared his throat, rather pointedly, Dean decided, and he looked away, hoping he wasn't blushing.
Dean was too flustered to notice, but Cas saw the amused glances their friends threw each other. Aside from his secret being out in the open, he didn't want them to form expectations that couldn't be fulfilled. Dean was straight. He was only thinking he had a crush on Cas because he didn't remember himself and needed someone to cling to.
He should have left. Jody and Bobby and Benny were here, they could look after Dean for a moment. But there was his promise to Sam. And he didn't want to leave. And he was weak.
"As soon as I find the money, this place is getting a makeover," Dean said casually, and by this time, they were acclimatized enough to him saying things he would never even dare contemplate normally to not bat an eyelid. Even Benny remained calm.
"Won't be long in finding," Bobby answered in the same tone as Dean, and he frowned at him.
"Bobby – "
"We've been here before, kid. Don't make me say it again".
Dean wisely chose not to comment.
He moved torward the desk and grabbed a wrench that was lying there. It was well looked after, just like the Impala, and he could easily imagine using it to give an old motor back its original beauty, make it run and pur –
Yeah, he could imagine being a mechanic. But he also wished he knew more about the courses on renovation Cas had talked about. It would have been awesome to go to college and learn.
Maybe he could still do that. He was only thirty after all, and if Bobby was willing to help him... He didn't really want to take his money, but maybe he could pay him back later...
First things first, though. The wrench felt good in his hand, familiar.
"I might try to go back to work," he said suddenly because he felt it to be the right thing.
"How about you come by my place tomorrow, try a few engines?" Bobby supplied immediately and Dean, who no longer felt any qualms about considering Bobby his father figure, was quick to agree.
Cas had underestimated what seeing Dean with his tools would do to him. It was not simply that he wanted to get back to work, to get better; but as long as he had known him, Dean had always fixed cars. It came to him as easy as breathing, as driving.
It felt good to watch him grow into his life.
"You'll be back to saving scrap and somehow turning it into something driveable before you know it," Benny said and Cas was again struck with his loyalty and support. It made him sorry that he'd been so worried when he'd first shown up.
After Dean had looked at the shop more carefully than he had done before and had begun a list of where renovations were most necessary (which Cas would definitely remind him of later) they parted with many thanks on Dean's side, which Bobby and Jody were hasty to decline any claim of; Benny was going to spend the night at Dean's apartment before leaving in the morning.
Cas, with a heavy heart, asked Dean if he could drop him at his place. Dean was looked after, and he and Benny deserved some time for themselves.
But Dean looked so crestfallen and Benny immediately insisted that he would very much like to spend time with Cas as well, and in the end they simply returned to Dean's, Benny more than happy to settle for the couch for one night.
He cooked for them again, and Cas had the feeling that he was eager to show off his skills. It hadn't been an easy decision for him to contact his cousin, but in the end, Dean's advice had won out. It was a nice way of showing Dean that he was a good man, and Cas gave Benny credit for all the benefit he could derive from it. Indeed, he soon became aware that with this visit, what little concern he had left about Benny and Dean being friends entirely dissipated.
And then Benny patted Dean's shoulder – really, it was nothing more than a pat, a friendly, open gesture between friends – and Cas was ready to jump up and shove him away.
This spurt of jealousy shocked him; all these years he had himself under control – of that he was sure; even though he hadn't hidden his feelings as well as he had believed, he had had himself under control; had watched women come and go in Dean's life, had offered comfort after breakups and got along with all of his partners; and one touch from Benny was enough to completely unravel him.
It must be because Dean had somehow convinced himself that he had a crush on him. It must be because the impossible, the one thing he had known he could never have, was suddenly within reach, no matter that it would be wrong to take it.
He took a few deep breaths and resisted the urge to move closer to Dean. He was not going to mark his territory. He was a decent man, guided by his intellect, not his instinct.
The mirth he could see in Benny's eyes did little to calm him down.
They retired rather early because Benny was tired after the drive and had to leave "when no one in their right mind is up", according to Dean; and Cas took leave of him right away because he decided he might as well let them have the morning, what little there was, to themselves.
Benny hugged him unexpectedly, and Cas reciprocated the gesture automatically.
"You take good care of him," he told him as he let go, and Cas could only nod. "Not that you don't already," he added, on second thought, and Cas wished he could have done without the wink that accompanied those words.
Dean went to sleep feeling very good about himself that night.
Seeing the garage without the blood or the drawer that had put him in this position had made him want to work, explore Doctor Moseley's suggestion, Benny was a great cook and a good friend, and Cas –
He shouldn't hope. But Cas had been giving him signals all day, and he wasn't blind. Their friends obviously thought something was going on.
If it weren't for the damn amnesia, he would make a move. But he needed to know himself and Cas thoroughly before he did that. He couldn't afford to fuck up. Not this. Not Cas.
He quickly thought of something else. Benny was awesome. He'd driven hours just to spend a short time with Dean, to make sure he was okay. This definitely proved that his old self was pretty awesome too, because you certainly didn't do all that for a jerk. Not that Dean had had much doubt on the matter before. Cas would never be friends with a jerk.
What Cas had told him about his dad didn't bother him. Dad had been distant ever since he had woken up. It was sad that his father would think so little of his responsibilities, but he had Bobby, and Bobby was a more than adequate replacement. Although he would eventually find a way to pay him back.
He took out his phone to call Sammy. His brother picked up on the first ring.
"Is Jess still alive?" Dean asked, and he snorted.
"She consumes more coffee than I thought a human being could process, but yeah".
"You better make her get some rest. It's tomorrow".
"Working on it, mother bear. How are you?"
He told him more about the memory flash. They had spoken about it in the morning, but with today's surprise visit and being in his shop, he'd almost forgotten about it (oh, the irony).
Sam was just as ecstatic as earlier, if a little held back, and Dean realized it was because his first memory to return was about Cas, not about him.
"I was very bummed after you left for college. I remember that".
His brother's silence told him it hadn't exactly been the best thing to say.
"I mean – " he hastily began, but Sam interrupted him.
"I missed you, too".
It was an unexpected answer, but it was enough.
"Benny's here," he supplied as the next subject.
"What?" Sam asked, being rather confused at the new topic. "Doesn't he work in Louisiana?"
"Yes he does, and yes, no one told him what had happened, but he couldn't reach me so he jumped on his bike and drove all the way. He didn't really get leave from his cousin, so he's going back tomorrow."
"He drove all the way from Louisiana for just one day?"
Sam was obviously surprised, and Dean couldn't wonder at his reluctance to approve of his friendship with an ex-criminal. If it had been the other way around, he would have been furious.
"Dean, I – it seems I was wrong about him. I know you don't remember, but I want you to know – "
"Alright, Sammy, I get it. Con came to you and suddenly you were besties? I'd be concerned too".
"You were never besties," Sam was quick to correct him, and Dean silently agreed. No one could ever take this place. Cas occupied it.
"But still – he's a good friend".
"He is," Dean replied, and now the memory of what Benny had told him chocked him. It was one thing to talk about Dad with Cas, who hadn't been there to witness their childhood; it was another to speak to his little brother, who had seen their father drink and neglect them.
Maybe he should wait until they got back. Maybe he should wait until they could have this conversation in person. But talking to Sam, he felt the increasing need to know.
It wasn't that he didn't believe Benny; but he needed the confirmation. Suddenly, talking to Sam, he needed the confirmation.
"I asked Benny about Dad".
Even though he couldn't see him, he could tell that his brother stiffened.
"You didn't tell me everything, did you?" Dean asked softly.
"Dean, I wanted you to – it wasn't easy, and –" Sam broke off, but Dean said nothing. He obviously wasn't finished.
"You raised me," Sam said matter-of-factly. "Not him. I don't remember how things were before Mum died. You always insisted he cared a lot for us then. But since – you were the one reading to me, helping me with my homework. Preparing my meals. You started working in the garage as soon as you were old enough because Dad was drunk more often than not, and nobody trusts a drunk mechanic with a car. You moved out when I went to Stanford because Dad got angry and told me never to come back and you wanted me to visit. You're the one I call when I want to talk to someone. You're always there for me. He never was".
Dean didn't realize he was crying until a small sob escaped him. Sam immediately stopped talking.
"Dean? Dean? Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he said, wiping away the tears with his left hand, "yeah, I'm good".
He was. What had broken him was not the neglect they had apparently suffered – he was ready to bet that his memories, when they came back, wouldn't be all happy – but the reverent tone Sam had just used when talking about him. Like he was the best big brother in the world. Like he was ready to do everything for Dean, like Dean had done for him.
"I already kinda knew Dad wasn't the best" he confessed.
"It's hard not to notice," Sam said, his voice strange, hurt and indifference and love all mixed together, and Dean swallowed down a few more tears.
"But hey, we had Bobby".
"And I had you," Sam explained again, as if he wanted to get the message across as often as possible.
"I know. And looking at you – I did a pretty good job. Although I am saying so myself".
"Thanks".
"I wish I could remember, Sammy" he said, "I wish I could remember everything. Even the bad times. You, Dad – Cas".
"I know, Dean. But you had a memory flash, right? It's a start".
"It is" he confirmed. He had to believe it. He wanted to believe it. He had another session with Doctor Moseley on Friday; who knew, he might get more flashes before then.
"Look after Jess and tell her she'll do great tomorrow" he eventually said, after a comfortable silence.
"I will." Then, gently, unsure, almost like a child, "Love you, Dean".
"Love you too, bro," he said before hanging up.
Dean lay down to sleep with one thought on his mind: No matter how crappy their lives had started out, they were doing quite well.