Dean was still under the car when he heard the door to the bunker swing open and then shut, and a pair of footsteps walk across the garage floor. He kept focus on the task at hand, inspecting the drive shaft for any cracks he might have missed. "Hey Cas, can you hand me that flashlight?"
The flashlight was grabbed from the tool box, and the footsteps grew closer. "Flashlight yes, Cas, no." Sam's voice replied as the flashlight was pressed into Dean's hand.
Dean abruptly rolled himself out from under the car, sitting up, expression exasperated. "Oh come on."
"I'm done chasing you. You're going to talk to me. Now."
"Really man, I'm right in the middle of fixing her up. Not now."
"Yes now. Dean, you've been avoiding me for three days now. You barely came out when Gadreel left, and then you went right back to ground."
"I was doing stuff."
"Yeah, you've been doing stuff constantly. Fixing the car. Going out for groceries. Ordering takeout so you weren't standing around in the kitchen. Anything that could be done quickly and wherever I wasn't."
"It wasn't like-"
"Yeah Dean. It was. Now you can run again, but you'll have to actually say that's what you're doing to my face, so save us both the effort."
Dean looked sour, and he roughly yanked the offered beer bottle out of his brother's hand. He leaned his back against the car, one leg up next to him on the rolling platform he used while he was working underneath the impala. "Fine. You have ten minutes. Then I'm going and finding Cas so I can teach him how to remove an engine block."
"How generous." Sam rolled his eyes, pulling the stool over from near the tool box, taking a seat. He took a deep breath and suddenly found himself struggling for words. He had mulled over what he would say for days, but somehow being here in the moment made all of the ways he thought he might start the conversation feel… wrong.
"Sam if you don't say something, we're going to sit here all ten minutes, because I have nothing to say."
"What the hell is up with you and Cas?"
"We're fixing a car. Be more specific."
"Are you-" Sam fiddled with the bottle of beer in his hands, letting it take his focus for a moment. He had been insistent to himself that he confront his brother, not Cas, but he was starting to think this would have gone better if he had just backed the angel into a corner and forced him to talk. "You two seem pretty close."
"Yeah. Anything else?"
Sam managed to dig into that younger brother exasperation, and he looked up from his beer, making a face. "Come on Dean, drop whatever pissy deflection you're trying. Talk to me. For real. Actually, for once in your life, tell me what's going on."
Dean rolled his eyes, pulling himself up from his seat. He crossed the room and threw the flashlight back in the tool box. He set his beer down on the small table and grabbed a couple wrenches to take with him back towards the front of the car, where the hood had been removed. "Yeah, we're close, alright?"
"Like… close?"
"Sam."
"Cas suggested you two were in a romantic relationship." He smiled when he heard the wrench clatter to the ground as Dean fumbled with it. "So that's a yes then, huh?"
Dean's expression was unamused as he straightened up and turned to look at Sam.
The younger Winchester did his best to look innocent, though he was enjoying this more than he'd ever admit.
Dean's tone was brusk and dismissive. "Sure. Whatever. You want to put a label on it, I don't know. I haven't. But yeah Sam. We've been close."
"Well you two did always share a more profound bond." Sam pressed, tone mocking the direct quote from Cas.
"Bite me." Came the gruff reply. Dean shook his head, leaning over to grab his dropped wrench and going back to work loosening the bolts.
"Good for you, man." Sam said at last. He raised his hand in a placating gesture when Dean snapped his head up to glare at him. "I mean it Dean." He turned his attention back down to his bottle, his voice softening and taking on a sort of wistful tone. "Hey, if you can find something good in this world, you should take it."
"Shuddup."
Sam's smile deepened. "Alright. I'll get out of your way."
"Send in Cas when you see him. I can't take this thing out without another set of hands."
"Yeah." Sam stood, leaving the garage, feeling a strange mixture of emotions.
That evening Sam had suggested they get pizza and throw a movie on the projector, mostly in a bid to try to get Kevin to come up for some air. It was then that he really noticed the difference.
He had glanced up towards the end, trying to see the clock when his eyes landed on the pair. Cas was sitting up on the couch, his expression set in concentration as he watched the film. His brother was slouched down sideways in his seat, leaning back against Cas casually, watching the movie with a contented smile. One of the angel's arms just loosely around him.
It took Sam by surprise. The expression was so foreign. He looked happy, really happy. Dean's normal expression was set somewhere between serious and concerned. It was rare enough to see a full smile from him, and even then it was always prompted by humor or excitement. Even as kids, happiness was a rare luxury for the older hunter. Sam didn't think he'd ever seen Dean just look happy.
Sam quickly slid his gaze away, not wishing to risk ruining the moment if his brother looked up. He caught the prophet's eyes, watching Kevin make the barest of nods back at the pair, as if to say "Are you seeing this?" He grinned and gave a slight nod.
When credits were rolling, Sam stood to go turn the lights on, sidestepping the cat on her way to jump onto the couch, settling between where the hunter and angel now sat upright.
Kevin watched the cat curl up and start to groom itself. "So how'd you two think of the name?"
"Oh I didn't name shit. I was against this whole cat thing." Dean protested. Kevin noticed the small chin scritch the hunter gave her however.
"Dean said that cat would be a good name for it. Swahili is the language that I believe gives that title the most pleasant sound."
"Wait, Paka is just cat in Swahili?" Dean asked incredulously.
"You told me cat was a good name…" Cas repeated, confused at the tone.
"Right, I just. I thought you ignored me."
"I did not."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "How many languages do you know?"
The angel reached down and absently stroked the cat's growing fur. "Most human languages. There are still many magick languages, more obscure languages, and demonic tongues that I am unfamiliar with."
"That might help with the translations. While you guys were at the cabin, Sam and I had Crowley help with some translations. With him gone, I thought we just hit a dead end with that."
"I can take a look at them."
They all jumped slightly, looking up as Dean's phone rang. He looked at it, reading an unknown number before answering it. "Yes?"
"Dean. This is Gadreel."
"Oh. Hey." He switched the phone on speaker phone. "Gadreel, what's happening?"
"I am in the town nearest the men of letters bunker. I was hoping I might meet with you. There is information I believe will be relevant to your search for a return to heaven."
"Yeah man, what is it?"
"I believe it is best we speak in the privacy and safety of the bunker itself."
"Sure. You know how to get here?"
"Yes. I will arrive shortly." The line went dead.
Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Alright. Assuming he was probably calling from the payphone in town, he'll probably be here in fifteen or so minutes."
"What do you think he has?" Sam asked, coming back to sit down again.
"I'll take anything at this point." Dean responded.