In the days of my youth
I was told what it means to be a man
Now I've reached that age
I've tried to do all those things the best I can
No matter how I try
I find my way into the same old jam
- "Good Times, Bad Times" Led Zeppelin
"This is the worst frikkin' part about all this pundit crap." Dean grumbles, rocking back and resting his head against a pillar in the Luggage Claim of the airport, still pale and drawn from the trip as he waits for the baggage carousel to come to life and bring their bags around. He's still shaking, though he'd never admit it, and throughout the trip he fixated on keeping the twins happy, singing under his breath to them nervously.
Castiel looks up from where he's found himself a spot on a bench beside Dean, a carseat on either side of him taking up the rest of the room, shaking a bottle in each hand to mix the formula as their children make their displeasure with the service in California known to the world. He answers once they're mollified, hands wrapping around the bottles possessively and silence falling abruptly, and he rocks their seats slowly, soothingly, trying to regain their favor after hours of travel. It seems, like Dean, they much prefer leisurely road trips to cramped and hectic airplane rides.
"Which? The travel, the waiting, the forced socializing with lawyers and reporters, or the dread of Charlie's driving?" The deadpan, hangman's humor has the desired effect, shaking Dean out of his own head and winning Cas a dirty look ruined by a genuine, if strained, smile.
"Fair enough, I guess. This whole damn thing sucks. Way to look on the bright side, Cas."
"Just attempting to keep things in perspective." Dean is terrified, and Castiel knows it, feels it with him, but it's not his fear. Castiel knows how today is going to go, and it has nothing to do with faith or superstition, and he wishes Dean could just trust his instincts. But Dean doesn't even trust his own: all he has right now to offer Dean is conjecture based on Lucifer's actions, and support no matter what happens today.
This entire trip has the potential to be nerve-wracking. They took off in the predawn hours as Bobby dropped them off at the airport with a grunt of farewell and a more genuine wish of good luck, but really they've been on edge since the final week of the Supreme Court term came on the horizon.
They don't treat landmark cases the way they do smaller ones, released whenever they're done throughout the year. For better or worse, the Omega decision is considered a landmark one, and it's taken until the summer to reach it, for the judges to compete for votes from each other, or wrangle the law as they must. They arrange it so that the news knows to expect the ruling, allowing them to prepare so they're ready for to report it to the people. Today, the United States government is going to rule if Omegas are property, as the circuit court had declared when overruling Dean last time. The ramifications of that decision will impact society, business, government, and set the tone for future policy. Legally, today decides the rest of Dean's life: it could take decades before these Justices retire or die, and whatever they decide here and now will likely stay until there's significant change.
It's terrifying.
The baggage claim lurches to life, and Dean pushes away from his column to wait for their things as Cas minds the children, but watches Dean. He hardly looks like the leader of a civil rights movement like this, disheveled and tired, AC/DC shirt clinging across his shoulders and jeans hanging loosely on him from the loss of too much weight, beyond what he gained during pregnancy. Still, Castiel can't help but watch him stoop to snatch the bags, helping an elderly Beta woman who shared the row with them pull hers off the conveyer as well, flashing her a genial smile that Cas recognizes as his proud father face when she pats him on the shoulder in thanks, gesturing at Cas and the twins as she speaks. Dean doesn't realize the effect he has, breezing into people's lives, magnetically drawing them towards him. They would never have gotten this far without him.
Nearby, another Alpha is watching Dean too closely, idling in the causeway between baggage claims, gaze fixed on Dean's movements, watching him smile, then watching him bend to grab another bag from the conveyer. It's predatory, disquieting, and Castiel glares at him until the Alpha notices his presence and meets Cas's challenging stare for a moment, suddenly moving on. Dean catches Cas at it, rolling his eyes as he hooks their bags onto his shoulder and joins Cas at the bench.
"You know, the broken nose and banged up face are really frikkin' creepy when you do territorial Alpha glaring crap." Dean pecks Cas on the forehead when he rises, as if trying to stand down the jealous Alpha act or take the sting out of his words.
"It's not broken. And I don't like when people stare at you." Dean rolls his eyes at Cas's grumble and trades a duffle bag for a baby, the two of them weighed down by more luggage than they ever would have needed on their own, before having kids.
"C'mon. There's probably some valet at the hotel you can scare the crap out of next." And he may. Castiel's had a lingering headache since Illinois because of the concussion, he's tired from travelling, and he's just not in the mood for anyone objectifying Dean today.
In Washington DC, there are already hundreds of people gathered on the steps of the Supreme Court. Here in San Francisco, there's a redhead still in TARDIS-print pajamas waiting with a Starbucks cup in her hand, tired eyes brightening when they step out into the cell phone waiting lot. "Dean, over here! ...Holy crap Cas, what happened to your face?"
Castiel sighs, standing still and impassive as yet another acquaintance takes in the evidence of his excursion to Illinois, Charlie grabbing his chin and turning his head right and left. "Oh my god, Dean said you'd gotten banged up, he didn't say you looked like you went three rounds in the ring with the Terminator."
"Shoulda seen him the night after. Swelling's gone down a lot since." Dean claps Cas on the shoulder, rocking him in place, and starts tossing their bags in the back, leaving Cas to figure out the car seat bases.
"It's not that bad." Castiel argues once again, settling the twins in their seats safely buckled into the back of a company van, flinching back when Mary's hand bats a bit too close to his still tender nose. He captures her tiny hand in his, pressing a kiss to impossibly delicate fingertips before pretending to chew on them with growling noises that startle a giggle out of his daughter, popping the bottle out of her mouth so she can smile. In the seat next to her Jimmy begins wriggling, arms out, trying to convince Cas to play with him, too, and pick them up, and Cas rubs a hand over his belly, tickling at his ribs to tease a laugh out of him, too. "Hang on, we're almost there. Just a bit longer." He lets them get a finger each, holding their hands, and in the front seat Charlie watches him with a smile, talking quietly with Dean as he buckles himself into the passenger seat.
"Okay. You guys are still adorable. Not sure what to do about Cas's face while you're playing meet the press, though. Don't want people thinking you beat your Alpha up or something. He may need to hang back a bit, or..."
"I'm staying with Dean." Dean seems relieved by Cas's matter-of-fact declaration, and that's why Cas needs to. Dean is for all intents and purposes on trial again, now in the court of public opinion, but this time Cas can stand beside him. A few bruises, a busted lip, a mild concussion, and swollen nose isn't going to stop him. Lucifer was trying to separate them, divide them, and he can't let him succeed even that much.
Charlie sighs, but it's not in her character to resent them causing her more trouble. Shifting them into drive, she weaves out of the parking lot, getting them on the road. "Okay. So we'll figure that part out. We're expecting the decision in two hours-they'll send it to the law office digitally, post it on their website, and release the slip to the press all pretty much at the same time. We're going to get you to the hotel, and you can change in your room so you're ready for the press conference. We've had a lot of requests for interviews, and the law office got a conference hall and took out a block of rooms for the plaintiffs. Sam and my bosses want to control press access, and they want you together to strategize what we're going to do if we win, and if we lose. Either way, this is going to roll out into more lawsuits..."
Dean groans, leaning his head against the window, and Charlie shoots him an apologetic look. "Sorry. Nothing this big... Probably nothing you'd even need to be as involved in, mostly we need your name on it. If we win, the cases are just taking out the trash: target industries built on Omegas being property, like the farms and crèches, and individual businesses that made it possible."
Castiel is listening closely, and he carefully pulls his hands away from the twins, leaning towards the front. "If that happens, I want your law office to file suit against my brother's for enabling sex trafficking. I will pay for it, if necessary."
Dean meets his eyes for a long moment, something unspoken between them, and catches Cas's hand in his, squeezing his fingers gently either in thanks or support, before letting him go. Charlie doesn't question the moment, just picks back up after.
"Don't say that around my bosses. If we win this, we'll be tacking legal costs into everything we sue for, so keep your trust fund for the kids. Our firm stands to make a lot of money on this. Sam could probably make senior partner, at this rate. It's why they can afford to be generous, pay for the hotel rooms and everything..."
"So you're saying, buy room service every meal and drink the minibar." Dean drawls, and Charlie grins at him. Her loyalty is to Sam and his family, not the law office. "What's the plan for the kids?"
"Ellen and Jo flew in yesterday so they can be here for any planning meetings, and share it back to the safe houses. They don't want to be in the press room, and pretty much demanded Robert, Mary and Jimmy to themselves. I can call..." She trails off, grinning suddenly as she eases them into the drop off area of the airport hotel. "Never mind."
Jo sweeps the back door of the van open as soon as they stop, already ducking her face down to blow on Jimmy's belly. "Up. Out. Give me babies."
"Gee, brat, good to see you too." Dean grumbles, and he's caught in a rib-crushing hug by the blonde for a moment, before she immediately returns to freeing their children from their seats.
"Sorry, jerk. You know I love you, but babies. They've gotten so big!" She chucks her finger under Jimmy's chin, and he grins back at her, gummy and bright at being rescued from the seat. "Hiya Jimmybean. Did you know when I met you, you two were just these tiny little..." As she reaches for Mary's seat, she catches a good look at Cas and pauses her chatter to the kids, eyes widening.
"Yes, I know." Cas cuts her off before she can remark on his face, and he ducks out of the van, joining Dean in the back to take their bags as Charlie finishes telling him the plan. "Sam will be here in just a bit. Jo and Ellen have the twins, and will take Robert when he gets here. You can go upstairs, get settled in, shower, change, whatever and I'll come get you in an hour, bring you to the planning room: we'll have Chuck, Kevin, Gilda and everyone there, and we'll hear the decision together, but we don't want you in front of them when the announcement comes out." They're sheltering them all from the eye of the press so they can react privately, and herding them together so no one says the wrong thing. "We'll go from there together to the downstairs conference room. If we win, after that it's parties and lawyers..."
"And if we lose, it's morose drinking and then the lawyers." Dean's smirking, cracking jokes nervously and Cas watches him worriedly, knowing this is his mask, his game face. He's afraid of being hurt, and knows this could crush him. Cas and Charlie exchange a look as Dean takes the room key and then brushes them off, going to see Jo and give the twins a kiss and receive some of their unconditional love and adoration before the start of a day he's viewing as a nightmare.
"An hour." Charlie reminds him unnecessarily, and Cas nods quietly as he passes her the travel playpen. He meets Dean at the elevator, bags in tow. He lets Dean get into the room, lets him toss their bags on the bed and pace to the windows to take in the view of the bay, before he makes his move.
"At least the accommodations don't..." Dean's small talk is cut off by Cas's lips at his throat, hands framing his hips, Cas's teeth scraping just above the neck of his t-shirt. "Cas, we shouldn't..."
He knows Dean's onboard when fingers tangle in his hair, keeping Cas against him, Dean forgetting about his injuries for a moment and letting himself feel. It's worth the sting of pain from Dean pressing his fingers into an already tender scalp to have Dean melt back into him, bending his neck to give Cas more room. Even now, it doesn't take much to ratchet the natural attraction between them into arousal, and Castiel is counting on it.
He pulls Dean back into him, thumb rising to press against his mouth to silence him, dipping into the slack part of his lips. Cas lets his clothed erection press to the ample curve of Dean's ass, showing Dean how easily he effects Cas, as his other hand pops the button of Dean's jeans, dragging down the zipper.
"Assuming it takes us 15 minutes to quickly shower and change, we have 45 minutes to do with as we will, without the children around. If we're fast..."
The Westin, it turns out, has very soft mattresses. Castiel's grateful for that when he's shoved back into it, the move so sudden that he's momentarily dizzy again, but it's easy enough to put that aside when Dean is stripping his pants and boxers down his thighs in one tug, and swallowing him down without preamble as he's still pushing his way up the mattress, heels dug into the plush coverlet. His knees give way before he can move farther up the bed, conscious thought fleeing him so he doesn't remember why he was trying to move in the first place.
"Oh, God, Dean I..." He can feel Dean smirk involuntarily at the inadvertent blasphemy, the expression shaping his lips interestingly against the head of his cock when Dean rises again, tonguing at Cas's slit, his hand wrapping around the base where Cas's knot will form and squeezing.
There's an air of defiance to Dean's actions, to how he fucks his mouth down on Castiel like it's a race to the finish, convincing Cas's body to knot instinctively with heat and wet and pressure. He unravels Castiel completely in short order, leaves him clutching the pillows above him, helplessly taking whatever Dean gives him, words giving way to softened vowels and sharp gasps that even after all this time sound like prayer, turning Dean into something to hold in awe, to worship and obey.
Clichéd as it is, that reminds him of their first time together: not just the blowjob that left Castiel wrung out and pliable, putty in Dean's hands, but the first time they had sex. The morning he took Castiel's virginity, the Alpha shaking with need beneath him, desperate to be good for him, prayers and praise and promises he didn't know he was making and Dean didn't at the time believe he could keep.
Everything is out of Dean's control right now except this: he can play Castiel like an instrument, wringing uninhibited moans out of him, winding back the clock to when Cas didn't know how to silence himself. He knows how to tease him to plumpness, how to take him from 0 to 60 in sixty seconds. No matter what the court says, no matter what the press says, Dean is no one's property just because he enjoys this. No one's pet. The man who supposedly owns him won't forget that, even if the world does. Raising his head, he locks eyes with Cas, focused on the thin sliver of blue eyes he can see watching him from under dark lashes. Flattening his tongue over the head of Castiel's cock, a slow drag that ends in a flick, he pulses his fist around Cas's rapidly filling knot, making Cas's body arch sinuously beneath him and his hips flex upwards, instinct telling him that he should be riding into Dean right now.
Sometimes instinct is right.
Dean kicks his jeans off one foot to free himself enough to straddle Cas, and he can't help hissing in discomfort as he bears down on Cas's rapidly forming knot, fingers driving into Castiel's shoulders to steady himself as he tries to take it into himself, stretching the rim of him-too-much, too-full, too-tight, too little time. He doesn't expect Cas's hand when it closes around his cock, pumping him in practiced strokes, and Cas's knot slips into place finally as Dean relaxes around him. Cas is already coming, his bruised and busted lower lip caught between his teeth as he forces himself to focus despite it, rolling his hips to press his knot deeper, hand flying over Dean's length, desperate for his mate to follow him over that edge. It doesn't take long: they're too attuned to each other, Dean needs this too much. He bites down on Cas's shoulder as he collapses forward onto his chest, coming on the worn fabric of Cas's t-shirt.
They're still mostly dressed, pants caught around ankles and shirts a sweat and sex soaked discomfort now. That went far, far too quickly, but Castiel understands what just happened, even if Dean will deny what drove him. He shifts carefully, supporting both of their weight for a moment to angle himself against the pillows, and Dean silently helps him peel their shirts off, settling back into Cas's arms, head tipped away and resting on Cas's shoulder, looking out towards the bay view window through slitted eyes, breathing slowing down again as Cas trails a hand up and down his back, other arm locked tightly around him, keeping him close and safe.
It wasn't the sex Dean needed-Cas has seen how Dean behaves when he needs sex, when his body is demanding a knot. They only have a little while and Dean needed this; as much time as he could steal to be held, comforted, without feeling lesser for asking for it. Nuzzling Dean's freckled shoulder, Cas presses kisses to all the skin he can reach, the knot making him affectionate, quiet, rocking up into Dean with each wave of pleasure, the chemicals between them making him love-drunk and slow.
"I'm going to ask your family to watch the children for the evening, and make a reservation for dinner tonight." Cas's voice is hoarse, he was louder than he realized during the sex. Swallowing, he nuzzles Dean's neck, looking out the window with him as best he can: the delicate shell of Dean's ear, the soft spikes of his hair, and a pink and orange morning sky over what little of the bay he can see with Dean in his lap. It's a good view this way. "We are going to go on a date and celebrate your victory, and make people uncomfortable when you order for me, or pick up the check, or take the lead." He trails off for a moment, hips flexing involuntarily, Cas's knot riding into Dean's prostate again. Dean scrapes his teeth over Cas's bicep, fingers pressing into his ribs, breath catching in a moan. Cas likes that, the wrung-out tender sounds only he ever gets to hear from his brash mate.
It takes him a moment to find his voice again, to continue as if he can't feel Dean tight as a fist around him, wet with come and slick, can't smell sex and feel Dean's fear, an unpleasant interruption to the love and affection surrounding them, the sense of mate mine Dean love that Castiel could explain as mates and pheromones, and limbic systems and brainstem in agreement, but knows is just part of them now.
"We are going to go out, enjoy ourselves away from obligations and expectations, and then I would like to come back here and do this again very, very slowly."
Dean doesn't answer, but Cas doesn't expect him to. Cas's plans presuppose a positive outcome, and Dean has had optimism beaten out of him over the years. He will believe in his victory only when he sees it, and even then he will wait for the other shoe to drop. Cas will spend the rest of their lives trying to convince Dean that he can trust the good in life, and that he deserves it.
When Dean kisses him, it's slow, tender, everything the sex between them hadn't been. It feels like an apology, like redress for how rough he was with Cas. His lips graze Cas's swollen lower lip, feather over the bruised line of Cas's nose, hands cradling his aching head. As if any of that matters, with Dean here with him. "I'm sorry, man. I just… fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna get through this."
"You will." How is irrelevant: Dean will get through this, because he is Dean. Because Dean has survived so much worse, and come through the other side stronger than anyone Cas knows.
They shower together once Cas's knot goes down, but Cas knows to keep his hands to himself now that Dean is tensing up again, to let him build up the walls he is going to need to hide himself. They are not there to keep him out, they are to help Dean cope, to keep him from being exposed in the public eye. By the time the knock comes at the door, Dean is fortified against the world, and grimly prepared for the worst.
Charlie is expected, and from the next room Cas hears her offering Dean an appreciative whistle that she, unlike any other Alpha, gets away with because she is both family and entirely unattracted to him sexually. "Looking sharp. Okay. We just need to..."
Cas is scrubbing a hand over his hair in the bathroom, trying to make it obey him and scowling at the bruises, when a cheerful voice rings out unexpectedly from the doorway.
"Holy guacamole you look like crap. It's a shame, I already got the looks in this family, didja have to get what little you got beaten out of you?" Castiel can't decide if he wants to sigh, roll his eyes, or hug his elder brother. Since they reunited, this has been a near-constant dilemma when Gabriel shows up. "Is that an eggplant on your face, or a nose?" Gabriel, being an ass, immediately boops him on the nose, grinning widely when Cas recoils back and covers the injury, glaring balefully as a waterlogged cat. "I never want to hear you claim Luci kicked my ass again."
"He surprised me, and threw me into a wall." Castiel is surprised at the sharpness of Gabriel's expression, a moment of genuine anger and protectiveness against the man who was once Gabriel's closest companion, of all his brothers. Gabriel, for all his wit and sarcasm, genuinely chose his side-he chose the little brother he never had as much in common with.
It's strange to think of Gabriel as a principled creature, despite his persona. He works hard to convince the world that he never grew up, and it's surprising to realize that he has-he just wants to control how he's perceived.
Like Dean.
"Yeah, well, he's an asshole."
"But you're not." He didn't mean to say that aloud, and Gabriel's grin blooms again, mask firmly in place, a wicked gleam to his eyes.
"Yeah, remember that when I'm smearing makeup on that ugly mug of yours in front of everyone you know, bro."
True to his word, Gabriel is adept at covering the bruises for Cas, more familiar with makeup than Castiel would have expected, and all of the products Gabriel drops in front of him seem used, not new, and Gabriel is comfortable with them in-hand. Cas tries to watch the ready room as people join them, Dean clasping his brother in a hug and then greeting everyone in the room individually, the news a low buzz on the flat screen behind them for now, showing the conference room they will be joining after the announcement, and Charlie's laptop is hooked up to the Supreme Court site, refreshing automatically, the email they'll send to open behind it and ready to alert them as well.
The room is tense, fear and anxiety and nervousness, the Alphas in the room picking up on it from the Omegas all around them. Cas finds himself welcoming the distraction of the pain of having a foam triangle repeatedly dabbed against his tender nose, Gabriel's eyes narrowed critically, smartassed comments a regular occurrence.
"How do you know how to do this?" It's probably not a tactful question, but Cas has never exactly been renown for his tact. Gabriel meets his eyes and Cas swears he sees worry for a split second before the grin returns, one brow arching up, and eventually reaches his free hand out to tousle Cas's hair, obnoxiously ruining Cas's attempts to tame it. "You ain't exactly quick on the uptake, there, genius. You go out pretending to be a badass and it's easy to forget how damn naive you are. When you piece it together you let me know, padre."
Cas's eyes narrow, affronted by the nickname, before his brow furrows as he contemplates why his having been a priest has any bearing on his knowledge of his brother. Did Gabriel feel uncomfortable around him, before he left the church? Did he think Castiel would judge him somehow for...
Oh.
"You said that I needed to have children because you never would." Castiel muses quietly so the bustling room behind them can't overhear, meeting Gabriel's eyes again. "I assumed that was choice, you not wanting to further the family line, or it was medical infertility, but it's not that. You called yourself a family reject. You joked about Alpha women, but I haven't seen you with a Beta or Omega since you ran away."
Gabriel tosses the makeup sponge into a case and fixes a challenging stare on his little brother, but Castiel can see through it now. Dean does this when he's waiting to be judged. Gabriel is attracted to other Alphas, and only other Alphas, male or female. Lucifer and Michael, if they know, must have made his life hell. He was probably pushed as hard towards sexual partners as Cas was: Castiel for his disinterest in sex, and Gabriel for his disinterest in the 'appropriate' partners. No wonder he ran away: he tried to blend until he couldn't anymore, until the stifling rule of their elder brothers began to smother his vibrancy, until his parties and drinking and jibes became hollow. The family can't disinherit him or shut him out entirely because his claim to the family fortune is just as strong as Michael and Lucifer's, but he can distance himself from them in every other way. He can control what his little brothers know of him, because Castiel's former faith was just as intolerant of Alphas like Gabriel as they were Omegas like Dean
"...The only thing I don't understand is where the makeup comes into this. You have an excellent complexion."
Gabriel stares at him a moment, processing the deadpan, before guffawing loud enough that the tense room around them glares at them. Not that it bothers Gabriel in the least, who waggles his eyebrows at his brother and ignores the rest of them. "Don't ask if you don't wanna know, kid. The stories I could tell..."
"Please don't." Cas quirks his lips faintly, letting Gabriel know he's teasing back in his own way, and he ducks the attempt to flick his nose again.
"...decision from the Supreme Court within minutes. Let's check in with our west coast correspondent. Michele?"
"Thank you, Tom." Charlie has turned up the television, and silence falls over the room. Cas exchanges a quick look with Gabriel, both of them far more sober with the moment gone, and his brother nods that he's okay to get up. Cas claps his brother on the shoulder as he rises, trying to convey everything in that gesture about how little it bothers him, how grateful he is to know Gabriel now, more than he ever really did when they were growing up.
But he has to be there for Dean, to edge around the room to where Dean stands at the front, eyes fixed on the television, shoulders square and posture forbidding, overly aware of the camera in the room and the eyes of the other plaintiffs on his back. Castiel steps up behind him, and doesn't hesitate to take his hand, unsurprised when Dean grips his hand tightly, the gesture hidden between them from the rest of the room.
Dean is here to marshal all of them, to lead them, and he's the one with perhaps the least hope of all. Castiel can loan that to him.
"... here in San Francisco where the plaintiffs have arranged a press conference to discuss what is going to be a landmark decision..."
"Just got the email..." Charlie's anxious voice cuts over the reporter, and Dean's grip becomes vice-like, bruising as his worry spikes. "'In the case of Winchester v. United States, the court..." Charlie's excitement breaks as she forgets she's on the clock, her hand flapping Sam forward as she finishes in one breath. "...overturns the circuit court opinion dismissing civil rights violations under grounds of property laws. It is the opinion of the court that civil rights violations against, Mr. Dean Winchester, Mr. Kevin Tran, Mr. Chuck Shurley, Ms. ..."
The noise of the room drowns her out as the significance of her words hits the room, and it seems to erupt into cheers and motion. Sam is pulled away from reading over Charlie's shoulder to shake hands with everyone, Dean is yanked away from Castiel, Kevin's hug practically jumping the young man into his arms. Castiel finds himself comforting Chuck, his head resting on the table, overwhelmed by it all. Dean's laughing, breathless and disbelieving when he gravitates back towards them, fingers clasping the edge of the table as he leans in to talk to Chuck as well, Cas with a hand on Dean's shoulder like an anchor.
There's so much movement and confusion, lawyers and plaintiffs, friends and family, that Castiel almost misses him as he glances up from his husband and father together.
The familiarity strikes him first, and there's a momentary attempt to place how Cas knows him. Nondescript in a black suit and tie, he could be any one of the Alpha attorneys from Sam's office in the room with them, moving toward Dean to shake his hand. Castiel recognizes the Alpha from the airport only seconds before he notices the gun in his outstretched hand, and he doesn't have time to plan, or think, or do anything but react on instinct.
Gunshots turn the laughter into screams, all of it muffled by the roar in Cas's ears, the sharp pain that tears through his gut, but when he falls, hands still clamped around the wrists of the gunman, the gun goes with him towards the floor.
He registers the fact that he successfully disarmed the gunman, and that Dean is yelling his name from far away, familiar arms wrapped around him. Dean angrily shouts at Cas not to leave him, pleads with him, and it doesn't make sense: Cas isn't the one who leaves, never could leave Dean, especially not like this, crying and with blood on his hands. It's only a moment, but it feels much longer than that before it really processes for Castiel that he's been shot.
After that, he doesn't process much at all.