[fic] these three for a dropout (part 2 of 2)
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: These Three (2/2)
Author: tabi_jeff
Recipient: dropout
Rating: PG
Word Count: 13,690
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Up to 7X3
Summary: It was a cold winter night, and there was a knocking at the door.
Part One
A loud banging startled Dean out of sleep. His first instinct was to reach for his gun but his hands came up empty. He cursed himself, trying to remember where he was and why his gun wasn't under his pillow where it should've been. His head didn't swim with the dizziness of a heavy night of drinking so he hadn't passed out. Beside him he could feel a small weight pressed against his side and that's when Dean realized that this was Cas, in the body of a child, and there was something trying to beat down the door.
There was a crashing sound outside and on the other side of Cas, Sam woke up suddenly, sitting bolt upright and blinking at the dark room around him urgently.
"What is it?" he whispered, seeing Dean already awake.
His gun and his knife, Dean remembered, were still in his bag across the room. He pushed away the covers and made his way over to the open duffel. "I dunno."
"Demons," Castiel told them, and he sounded certain. "They are demons."
"We salted the door right?" Sam asked and Dean froze, because he hadn't redone the line after he'd dragged the half-frozen Cas into the room.
"Only if you did," Dean said cautiously. From Sam's, "Fuck," in response he guessed that was a no and he would berate them both later for being complacent idiots, but right now he had more important things to focus on. It was just lucky they'd all decided to bed fully clothed, because of the cold, because right then the door splintered and the eerie orange of the parking lot street lamps flooded into the room. Dean ran for his bag, calling to Sam, "Stay with Cas. Turn the lights on."
For a second the brightness was almost blinding and Dean had to squint against the glare, shoving his gun into his belt and pulling out salt and holy water. They would be much more effective against demons than bullets. He didn't dare look back to see if Sam was armed, if he had Cas safe. Dean trusted Sam to look after himself.
At least, Dean thought, they weren't Leviathan. That would have made things a whole lot more complicated. It was bad enough that, somehow, demons had found them because there was no way them showing up the day after a weakened Cas showed up was any kind of coincidence.
There was no more time to figure it out though because a guy who looked like he'd just stepped out of a wrestling ring was fighting his way through the door. Dean didn't give it a chance to get any further than one step in over the threshold before he threw holy water into its face. It screamed and recoiled and its eyes slashed black. Definitely demons. Dean could smell the sulfur in the air.
He didn't get the chance to make a headcount of how many demons were outside because then something crashed through the window beside the door sending glass flying and Dean had to cover his face with an arm. He felt shards pricking at the skin of his hand.
The next thing he knew, a heavy weight barreled into him, knocking him onto his back. Instinctively, Dean reached down for the knife he had stashed in his boot and stabbed the point directly between the demon's eyes. It howled, letting go of Dean as it scrabbled to remove the knife and Dean took the opportunity to roll its body off him and throw salt into its face.
Standing up and taking in the room Dean could see three more demons had poured in to the room and there were a couple more outside. Too many, Dean thought.
Over by the kitchen area Sam and Cas were cornered by them, and Cas was clinging to Sam's legs looking small and afraid, but angry and determined. Sam lashed out, slashing a deep wound into the closest demon. The wound crackled and the demon hissed and took a step back. But in its place the other two rushed Sam, grabbing at his arms. The third reached for Cas and Dean didn't care if there were five thousand of the fucking things. He was going to destroy every fucking one of them.
He pulled out his gun, carefully aimed and would've blown the demon making for Cas's brains out- he knew it wouldn't kill the thing, but it would slow it down- but then the wrestler from before grabbed him from behind and tossed him straight out the door. Dean landed on cold snow, could feel the wetness of it against his cheek. It was better, he guessed, than landing on concrete.
"We just want the angel." One of the demons that had been outside crouched down beside Dean, a woman with high heels and tight jeans and a thick southern accent. "We're not here for you," she said. Like that would make any difference to Dean. Trying to take her by surprise Dean grabbed for her ankle and pulled, unbalancing her. She fell back on to the snow but she was laughing.
"Yes," she laughed. "He said you'd be like this."
Dean didn't even see the fist that hit him hard across the face next coming, he just knew it fucking hurt. Then another punch across the face, then one to the stomach. Under his back the snow was melting and Dean could feel cold, wet dampness seeping through his sweatshirt. He was dizzy, losing concentration, but he had to hold on, think of something and fast because Sam and Cas were outnumbered and Dean had sworn that this time he would protect them. But his gun was gone, he'd used his knife and lost that too. Under his hands the cold snow was making Dean's fingers numb, he dug into it thinking, it was water, blessing it even as he felt his nose break, felt hot blood on his lips.
Before he could shove the snow in the demon's face the hands holding him down were suddenly gone; a flash of light so bright it burned his eyes, a screaming sound, and then hands- smaller hands- grasping at his shoulders.
"Dean," he heard. Dean!" Cas's voice, Dean recognized and tried opening his eyes but they felt heavy, swollen shut. He wanted to answer, to make sure Cas was okay, to ask where Sam was but it took all his concentration just to stay conscious. Then, there were hands on his face, cold, resting carefully on his cheeks and in the next second the pain was gone, the weight and the feeling of wanting to puke. Dean opened his eyes to see Cas leaning over him, looking down at him in concentration.
"Cas," Dean frowned, because he sure as hell didn't think he had the energy to spare to heal others when he couldn't even heal himself.
A shadow fell over them and Cas was yanked away. Dean scrambled to his feet, unable to do anything as another demon, a short guy in a cheap suit and bright, yellow tie, lifted Cas bodily up by his collar and threw him against the motel wall. There was a sickening sound as he impacted and Dean hoped like hell Cas hadn't broken anything. Either way the fucker who'd done it wasn't going to get the chance to hurt Cas anymore. Dean was on him in an instant, furious, tearing at the guy's douchy hair and pulling at his tie. The ferociousness of his attack took the demon by surprise and it was almost easy for Dean to swing his opponent around and knock him down, pressing him face down into the snow Dean had blessed. Its flesh hissed and the demon howled and struggled and Dean held him down until he saw smoke pouring from its ears, bleeding out into the night air. Looking over his shoulder Dean could see Cas, slumped and motionless against the wall and he cursed, wishing for a knife, wishing for this demon to not have stopped kicking so that he could really make the asshole suffer.
He made to get up and go to him but the high-heeled demon moved between him and Cas, somehow steady on her feet even in the thick snow and slippery ice. She brandished a knife of her own, looking between Cas and Dean, trying to decide which to go for. Back inside the motel room Dean could hear the sounds of a fight; Sam, Dean guessed.
"You should've just let us have him," she hissed. "We'll get him in the end anyway."
"Like fuck you will, bitch." It was easy to rush her, to let his fury that demons would dare fuck with his family propel him forward, knocking her off her expensive heels, spitting out an exorcism and enjoying every second of it, watching as she writhed and snapped at him and struggled. When he was done, when it was over and her body had gone still, Dean let himself lay there for a second, breathing heavily, panting for air. It was quiet except for the crunch of snow and Sam's voice calling, "Cas! Come on, man. Wake up!"
Collecting himself, without a single look back, Dean went over to them, his brother and his best friend who at the moment looked like a sick five year old. Sam had a hand pressed against Cas's forehead, bright blood under his fingers. Cas was bleeding sluggishly from his nose too, and his cheek and chin were grazed and bruised. Dean kneeled down in the snow beside where Sam had Cas pulled up onto his lap, wiped away the blood from Cas's nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
"All dead?" Dean asked and Sam replied, "Yeah. Cas exorcised a couple, or whatever it is he does."
"We gotta get out of here," Dean said. "Do you- do we need to take Cas to a hospital or something." It was pretty much the last thing Dean wanted to do if there were demons after Cas's hide, but he would if he had to, and Cas was so frigging pale Dean was almost certain there wasn't much choice. But then Cas's eyelids fluttered and he groaned softly, trying to turn his head away from Sam's hands.
"It's okay," Sam soothed. "Just hold still. It's okay. It's just me and Dean."
Cas subsided, opening his eyes blearily and Dean didn't like what he saw.
"Concussion," he guessed. He'd seen it enough times, had them enough himself to recognize them easily.
"I'm fine," Cas tried but his voice was thin and almost too quiet to hear.
"Yeah, sure," Dean scoffed. Around them lay a whole bunch of dead demons, the window smashed, what remained of the door hanging from its hinges and it was a miracle no one had come out to see what the hell was going on. Or else the demons had already killed everyone else.
It was starting to snow again, a fine layer of white blanketing the wreckage of the fight. Cas's teeth were starting to chatter. "Sam, gather up our stuff," Dean ordered, taking Cas from Sam's arms, lifting him up easily. "I'll get Cas settled in the car."
Sam gave him a knowing smile but nodded, "No problem," and disappeared back into the room.
It was never not going to be freaky, Dean thought, being able to carry Cas like this, cradled in his arms. He dabbed at the cut on his head, following Sam through the wrecked doorway. The blood had slowed but it would need cleaning and covering, but luckily no stitches. Cas was shivering in his arms so Dean gathered up a bunch of the motel's crappy blankets and wrapped them around him. He snagged a couple of the pillows too before taking Cas out to the car. Sam threw a couple of their bags into the trunk before hurrying back to the room.
They needed to work out how the demons had known where to find them, and only Cas could answer that, but he didn't look in any state to be doing much of anything. They'd just have to run, for now. They had plenty of practice at that.
"Stupid angel," Dean scolded, carefully laying Cas on the back seat, head on the stolen pillows. "You shouldn't have wasted your mojo on me." If Cas had been paying attention to himself rather than Dean he'd be okay and Dean wouldn't be freaking out that Cas couldn't quite seem to focus on him.
"Not a waste," Cas said, closing his eyes.
Sam was loading up the last of their crap, shut the trunk and came round to give Dean his gun and knife. He had another couple comforters in his arms. "Get in the back with him." He shoved the comforters at Dean. "I'm driving."
Dean didn't argue.
***
In the end they just drove until dawn. If Dean had his way they'd have gone to the hospital to get Cas checked out, but the suggestion of going anywhere near human doctors seemed to freak the fuck out of Cas to the extent that it was better for all of them that they kept on moving.
Cas said, "I don't like hospitals," and wouldn't say anything else about it, turning to face the back of the seat and hiding his head under the blankets. For an angel who was at least several millennia old, he managed to do an awesome imitation of a little kid. Dean couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Cas in that hospital in Louisiana after the showdown with Zachariah. Maybe it just reminded him of being defenseless and alone and human.
He submitted to Dean cleaning up his forehead, covering it with a band-aid and resisting the urge to dig one out covered in dinosaurs or something. He ate unhappily and only because Dean nagged for an hour. Getting Cas to drink the juice Sam had brought with them was easier but he didn't relish any of it.
"I don't require sustenance," he argued again and Dean ignored him. Even Cas didn't sound like he believed it.
The sun hadn't long risen when Sam had to pull over to relieve himself and to stretch his legs. They hadn't driven as far as Dean would've liked but the roads were icy and the snow made speed impossible. It would have to be enough.
It was only then that Cas commented, "This isn't your car."
"No." Dean didn't like to think of the Impala, hidden under a tarp, locked away and alone. He hoped she wasn't too cold, that she wasn't wet and rusting when Dean wasn't there to do anything about it.
"I have missed many things," Cas frowned. He looked ridiculously cute half-buried under a mountain of covers, his black hair a stark contrast to the white of the pillows he lay on and staring at Dean so seriously.
"She's just in hiding," Dean shrugged seeing Cas's worry, and who the hell would ever have imagined an angel understanding the importance of a guy's car. "Like us."
"I'm glad," Cas said. "That your car is... well." He looked confused at his own words and Dean couldn't help laughing.
"Thanks," Dean smiled. He patted around where Cas's knees would be. Laid over the blankets wrapped around Cas was his old trench coat, still stained with flecks of black and red but dry. Too big for him to wear but still Cas seemed to like having it close. "I'm gonna take over the driving from Sam now so he can get some rest. You should sleep too."
"All I have done is sleep." Cas sounded grumpy and that, too, was kind of adorable.
"Then you shouldn't have fought a bunch and demons three times your size," Dean pointed out, and totally expected Cas's disgruntled, "They are not three times my size."
"Yeah, yeah."
They waited for Sam to return in silence and Dean thought that Cas had fallen asleep again but then, quietly, he asked, "Is Sam alright?"
It was easy to forget, even after only a day of Cas being back with them, how much had happened and how much Cas had missed.
Out the window Dean could see Sam with his arms wrapped around his chest, holding his jacket closed, head down against the icy wind, making his way towards the car.
"He's getting there," Dean replied, and found that he actually believed it.
He patted Cas's bundle of covers again before sliding out of the backseat to swap places with Sam. Within fifteen minutes both Cas and his brother were fast asleep. There were things he needed to ask Cas and they needed to catch him up on the Leviathan things, but just right then Dean was just glad to have most of what he loved in the world safe and breathing in the seat behind him and he drove in silence, not even bothering to turn on the car's crappy radio.
Sam only slept for a couple hours but even then they didn't talk much, not wanting to wake Cas. There wasn't much to say anyway.
Cas awoke even more irritable than before. Dean had the impression he would've fought Sam's attempts to check his concussion if he'd had the strength.
"From where I'm sitting," Dean said to the glaring Cas, "This looks one hell of a lot like a tantrum. I know something about kids and they've usually grown out of them by five. How many years you got on you, Cas?"
It was effective in getting Cas to settle, if not happily.
"I don't know why I want to defy you," Cas admitted. "It serves no purpose."
"Kids do that." It wasn't Cas's fault, he guessed, that he could neither control or understand his emotions. Dean would've been pretty pissed if he had been in that position too. "Something to do with testing boundaries or something."
Sullenly, Cas allowed Sam to press a cold towel against his cheek where the bruises had swollen. That probably wasn't helping his mood either, Dean thought. Like he had against Dean the day before, Cas leaned against Sam's chest and rested there until they had to stop again in the late afternoon at a gas station. They tried coaxing Cas out of the car but he wouldn't go, not wanting to leave the warmth.
Not wanting to leave Cas alone but needed to stand up and breathe fresh air Dean and Sam leaned against the car, drinking hot, crappy coffee from Styrofoam cups and ignoring the gentle snowfall around them.
"We're gonna have to stop for the night," Sam said, and it was something Dean had been worrying about too.
"I know," he said. He looked through the window at Cas, rubbing his eyes sleepily and wincing when he pressed too hard at the bruising there. "We can't stop at a motel."
"We don't know how they found us. Or Cas. Whatever." Sam shrugged. "We need to eat at some point too. Something that isn't cookies."
They'd been eating the cookies Sam and Cas had made the day before all afternoon.
Dean sniffed. "Damn good cookies though."
"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes.
"Y'know what? They'd go really well with coffee." He stuck his head into the car. "Hey, Cas. Did you eat the last cookies?"
"No," Cas said shortly and pointed to the bag in the footwell.
For all Sam's bitching he still ate three.
"We'll spend tonight in the car," Dean decided. Maybe it was just avoiding the issue, but Cas still needed to heal and Dean knew that when they started talking, when they started asking questions the peace he'd found in the past couple of days knowing that Cas was alive was going to be lost. When they admitted to weight of the past, let it in, it wasn't going to be easy to let it go again. "Tomorrow we'll work out what the fuck to do."
Dean had expected Sam to argue but he didn't.
"We can survive one night, I guess," he agreed instead, and maybe Sam didn't want to have to face any of that crap either.
They ate chips and nuts and half a bar of chocolate between them for dinner and Sam told them a boring story about some guy he'd met years back who swore the ghost of Abraham Lincoln haunted his bathroom. At least Cas seemed interested. They carefully avoided anything to do with the past few months, or really anything in the past at all.
Sam drove late into the night, trying to find somewhere remote so they'd see anyone coming, but not so remote that they'd get trapped in the car if there was a snowstorm or the crappy thing broke down and there was nothing either of them could do to get it working again. Cas dozed against his side and Dean was relieved to see the bruising and the grazing on his face healing faster now; maybe being warm and resting were helping him out. Helping him recharge. The sooner Cas would go back to being adult and fully charged the easier this would be. But when had anything been easier for the Winchesters?
As Dean's watch ticked over to midnight they decided on an empty lot a couple miles on the outskirts of a small, nondescript town. Sam crawled into the back and the three of them wrapped themselves in every blanket and comforter they had.
"Just a couple hours," Dean said, which wasn't really what anyone could classify as stopping for the night but it was the safest way to keep anyone finding them, and to stop them all freezing to death because now the engine was switched off the temperature inside the car was falling fast. If Dean wasn't imagining things, and he didn't think he was, he would've sworn Cas was hugging him the way he'd wrapped his hands around Dean's side, the way he pressed himself close.
In the silence of the car it wasn't difficult to hear him say, quietly, "Thank you. Both of you."
"You'd do the same for us," Sam said, and Dean couldn't see his face because there was no light out here, but he could tell from Sam's voice that he really meant that. Despite everything, this was one thing Dean could be sure of too and it was a fucking relief.
"As cute a kid as you are, Cas," Dean teased, not ready to let anything get between them yet, "Hurry up and go back to being an adult again. I can't swear or drink with you like this." It wasn't the truth at all and he could tell from Sam's snort that his brother didn't buy it for a second.
Cas, though, shifted against Dean and said, "You think I'm cute?"
It took half a damned hour for Sam to stop laughing and Dean would've been more pissed if it hadn't felt so much like family.
***
Dean knew he'd become too used to this.
They didn't hunt so much, because it was kind of hard to hunt with a five year old in tow and no matter how many times Castiel insisted his vessel was small he was still himself and getting stronger every day there was no way Dean was chancing it.
Instead of calling Bobby to ask if he'd picked up any leads, any hunts, Dean called him every day to make sure they were steering away from anything that looked like demons or Leviathan or anything close to supernatural and mean. This he didn't tell Cas about, but from the suspicious, thoughtful looks Castiel had taken to giving him over the bowls and bowls of cereal he liked eating Dean was pretty sure he knew anyway.
And Jesus, the cereal he could get through was frigging epic.
"Maybe it's like crack for angels?" Sam suggested and Dean didn't find the joke even a little funny. He'd seen what Cas looked like high and Dean didn't like to remember it. Sam must've seen something in his face because he added hastily, "At least he chose something that's at least kind of healthy."
They moved on every morning, never staying more than a day anywhere. They learned every hiding spell and sigil they could find, and Cas taught them some that'd never been seen on Earth, and they used them all. It was a shitty life and they were tired from the driving and bored from doing nothing, but it was still kind of cool. Different. Almost a vacation, except for the paranoia of keeping Cas safe and Sam sane.
Dean introduced Cas to every awesome food he could think of, and on the long nights they spent in motel rooms watching Doctor Sexy re-runs Dean patiently explained every back story and character. Cas mostly looked bemused, Sam staunchly ignoring them and doing whatever the fuck he did on his laptop for hours on end. Maybe buying dolls. Who knew.
As they watched, Dean discovered that Cas wasn't interested in any of the medical stuff, not that there was much of that. His expression took on a pinched look at the family plot lines, and he was fascinated by the friendships and romances.
"We should start you on Harlequin," Dean laughed and quickly changed the subject when Cas looked interested.
Their crappy stolen car broke down almost every other day and the skin of Dean's hands became cracked and painful where he had to work out in sub-zero temperatures, in howling winds, trying to get the thing to move again. The first few times it happened Cas tried to help even though he shivered miserably in the cold. Dean took to locking him in the car, but at the next opportunity he had Cas would take Dean's hands and heal them, no matter how many times Dean told him not to.
"You don't need to do that," Dean sighed even as he enjoyed the warmth in his fingers, the way the prickling cold receded, his joints free of aching and stiffness. His hands were probably in better shape now than they had been in years.
"But I want to," Castiel told him fiercely.
Not once did they talk about what had happened before. They caught Cas up on where they were at with the Leviathan situation, which didn't take long because there wasn't much to tell. As creatures from before even the angels Cas had nothing to offer except guilt and regret. Dean knew all about that. It was made worse though because in a child's body Cas had less control over what he was feeling, felt more. There weren't so much tears as huge, sad eyes and it was instinct, Dean told himself, an automatic reaction he'd learned raising Sam, that had him pulling Cas into his lap and hugging him when he looked like he needed it. It wasn't like Cas seemed to mind.
They didn't talk about what would happen when Cas was an adult again. Cas was confident it wouldn't be long and Dean believed him. Over the month they spent traveling, moving randomly and leaving as little trail as they could, Cas slept less, ate less, became more confident. But he still clung to Dean, and to Sam, and he still ate cereal and watched crappy TV with Dean so it was all good.
Until it wasn't.
The three of them had formed the habit of sharing a bed, Cas between them. It was never too crowded or too hot- though that was often because their motel room was so frigging cold- except somewhere west of [place] Dean woke up hanging half off his side of the bed. One arm had gone numb, trapped under a much heavier weight than Cas. His other arm lay over someone much bigger than a five year old. Dean's first thought was that it was Sam, but the material under his hand felt too crisp and cold to be one of Sam's soft t-shirts. And then Dean opened his eyes and he saw; it was Cas, fully grown, somehow wearing his suit and shirt. He faced Dean, eyes closed, hair mashed against the pillow and sticking up in all directions and Dean froze. On the other side of Cas, Sam was still snoring loudly and Dean kind of hated him because it was over, Dean thought. The comfort he'd found in this. The closeness to Cas. Now Cas was back to being an adult there was no way he would want this anymore. It was hard to let go, and it only became worse when Cas's eyes opened, blinking slowly like he really was waking up. Their eyes met and maybe Cas didn't know he was back to being himself because he smiled at Dean with all the warmth and joy and inhibition of a child.
He reached out the same way he had done almost every day since he'd been back to hold on to Dean's t-shirt and it was then that Cas realized, looking at his own hand like it was a strange, foreign thing.
There was no excuse anymore, no reason to be this close and Dean pulled away, immediately missing Cas's warmth. This was what he'd wanted, he reminded himself. He couldn't look at Cas as a five year old the way he wanted to look at Cas, but now that he saw him for the first time in months looking exactly the same, looking at Dean with the exact same focused stare, it was too much.
There was too much between them like this and Dean turned away, getting out of the bed as quickly as he could.
He ignored the way Cas had still been reaching out for him.
"I guess you're back to normal," Dean said. "You got all your powers?"
There was a long pause and Dean looked back at Cas who was watching with a blank expression. "Yes," he replied eventually.
Sam was starting to stir, mumbling about the noise and rubbing at his eyes.
Dean swallowed. "You don't need us looking after you anymore then."
Another pause. "I haven't needed looking after for some time."
Dean didn't know what the fuck made him say it, but he couldn't stop himself saying, "Then what are you still hanging around for?"
It was like Dean just wanted it over. He knew Cas was going to leave and everything was going to go back to being complicated and shitty again, and he just didn't want to have to deal with it. He'd said the right thing- the wrong thing- too because the next thing he heard was a flurry of wings, he felt a cold gust of air, and when he turned back to the bed to see Sam pushing himself up onto his elbows with a confused expression on his face, Cas was gone.
***
For nine days Dean had kept his mouth shut. For all of the nine days since he'd last seen Cas, sleep-rumpled and warm but fully grown and uncomfortable in his skin, Dean had tried not to be pissed. He'd tried not to be mad as hell at him for leaving all over again, for not telling Dean what the fuck was going on, for not coming back. He tried to ignore how much that hurt because a whole lot of it was his own damned fault.
Sam called him an idiot and told him to just frigging call Cas. It'd been nine frigging days and Dean couldn't wait any more.
"Cas," he said to the night air. "Castiel. Get your ass back here right the fuck now." He hated that he still couldn't be sure Cas would come, even after everything. He hated even more that he was the reason Cas had gone in the first place.
Dean'd had nine days to think about exactly how he should've let Cas hold onto him when he'd reached out. How he should have just manned up and reached right the hell back.
It was a relief to hear the familiar sound of beating wings, and then Cas was standing there, right in front of Dean, too close and his expression too blank and Dean took a step back, scowling.
"Dean," Cas greeted, like it was nothing.
He had no right to be angry, Dean knew that. He was more angry at himself than anything, but still he found himself accusing, "Where the fuck have you been, man? You disappear the second you get your mojo back and that's it? We could've used your help." That last part was only half true, but Cas didn’t need to know that.
It struck Dean as weird how he could see the long sigh Cas breathed out in a swirling mist of warm air. The ice and the snow might finally have started receding but it was still freeze-your-balls-off cold and Dean was beginning to regret choosing the farthest edge of the parking lot of the hotel he and Sam are staying in for this. If he'd had any sense he would have chosen somewhere inside, but somewhere along the line it had become some inexplicable habit that Dean call for Cas out in the open air. Maybe he just didn't want anyone else to hear this conversation.
"You made it clear I should leave," Cas said pointedly, and yeah, okay, Dean deserved that. Cas didn't meet Dean's eyes when he said, "You had only to call and I would come."
It was like nothing had changed, like they were at exactly at the same place they'd been months ago when Cas was sneaking around with Crowley and Dean couldn't find the courage to call for Cas just for the sake of hanging out.
Looking at Cas- this Cas, complete with clean, fixed up coat, stubble, sad blue eyes, standing awkwardly in the darkest corner of a parking lot because Dean had called for him- Dean made a decision. It was a decision he should have made months ago. Maybe years ago.
"No, see, we're not doing that shit again." Dean was done making the same mistakes over and over. He was done getting things wrong every single time, of missing every chance at having something good because he was too afraid of losing it. "I'm a dick," he admitted. "I didn't mean for you to leave like that. Me and Sam didn't know if you were, y'know, doing okay or whatever."
"My Grace is fully recovered. You don't need to worry-"
"No, Cas," Dean interrupted. "I don't need to frigging worry but I do anyway. I'm an ass, but you already knew that. Didn't you listen to anything we said? You're one of us." There was so much more to it than that, but all Dean could say was, "You gotta check in with us sometimes. Jesus. I didn't know if you were coming back."
It was an admission Dean hadn't meant to make but it gets Cas to look up and meet his eyes.
"Of course I was, Dean. I meant it when I said I will always come when you call." He smiled wryly. "Even if you are, as you say, an ass."
"Sorry about that," Dean murmured.
Cas met his eyes and Dean couldn't look away because what he saw there was what he saw in the mirror on his own face every time he thought about what it could be like to be with Cas.
Cas must've seen it too because he took a tentative step closer moving into Dean's personal space. Close enough that Dean could feel the warmth of his body. Or maybe it was warmth of the angel inside that body because it was cold enough that Dean's fingers were starting to prickle painfully. He rubbed his hands together briskly.
Maybe Cas understood this stuff more than Dean gave him credit for. Maybe he didn't have to say it.
Dean licked his dry lips and it was impossible to miss the way Cas's eyes tracked the movement.
It'd been fine was Cas was five and kind of emotional and occasionally clingy. It'd been easy then to be close to him and not think anything like how much Dean wanted Cas. Now he was adult again, now he was himself and this was a risk. With Cas standing right in front of him, watching Dean as though he were the only thing in the frigging universe it was a risk Dean was going to take.
It took only a small step forward to be right up in Cas's space, chests almost touching. Dean watched Cas watching him as he leaned in, let him see what he was going to do, giving him every chance to stop him or escape or whatever. Dean didn't dare hope that Cas would want this, instead keeping his mind blank, thinking only of the brightness of Cas's eyes despite how dark a night it was, moonless and thick with clouds, the warmth of his breath against Dean's lips, the dryness of his cheeks as Dean brought his hands up to frame Cas's face. Cas didn't draw away. He didn't flinch or look unsure, just let Dean press their mouths together gently and after a moment of doubt where Dean was convinced Cas hadn't actually understood what was going on after all, Cas kissed him back.
It became easier, the two of them sliding together, fitting themselves closer, Cas bringing his arms up to curl around Dean's waist, their tongues meeting lazily, curiously. There was no hurry, none of the crazy lust Dean usually felt when he did this kind of thing. This was different. This was about showing Cas that Dean wanted him around for nothing more than just being there.
When they broke apart neither of them went far, close enough that their noses almost touched and Dean could taste Cas's words when he said, "I see."
"It's not just 'cause I want this either." Dean ran his fingers lightly along the sides of Cas's face to his neck, the collar of a coat that had for so long been the only thing Dean had left of this. "We don't have to. You can flap away and do your thing, yeah. Me and Sam couldn't stop you even if we wanted to. But I want you to get that you don't have to do everything on your own. Me and Sam want to know what's going on with you." Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to say, That's what got us into this mess in the first place, but instead settled on, "We work together."
There were issues of trust and mistakes and not talking to each other that they'd barely started to work out, but he wanted to. God, he wanted to.
Cas kissed him again and it felt like a promise and an apology and possession. They both did better with actions than words anyway. For now, Cas offered no excuses and no explanations; that would come later because then Cas said, "I didn't-" He paused, started again. "I'll stay."
End
Title: These Three (2/2)
Author: tabi_jeff
Recipient: dropout
Rating: PG
Word Count: 13,690
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Up to 7X3
Summary: It was a cold winter night, and there was a knocking at the door.
Part One
A loud banging startled Dean out of sleep. His first instinct was to reach for his gun but his hands came up empty. He cursed himself, trying to remember where he was and why his gun wasn't under his pillow where it should've been. His head didn't swim with the dizziness of a heavy night of drinking so he hadn't passed out. Beside him he could feel a small weight pressed against his side and that's when Dean realized that this was Cas, in the body of a child, and there was something trying to beat down the door.
There was a crashing sound outside and on the other side of Cas, Sam woke up suddenly, sitting bolt upright and blinking at the dark room around him urgently.
"What is it?" he whispered, seeing Dean already awake.
His gun and his knife, Dean remembered, were still in his bag across the room. He pushed away the covers and made his way over to the open duffel. "I dunno."
"Demons," Castiel told them, and he sounded certain. "They are demons."
"We salted the door right?" Sam asked and Dean froze, because he hadn't redone the line after he'd dragged the half-frozen Cas into the room.
"Only if you did," Dean said cautiously. From Sam's, "Fuck," in response he guessed that was a no and he would berate them both later for being complacent idiots, but right now he had more important things to focus on. It was just lucky they'd all decided to bed fully clothed, because of the cold, because right then the door splintered and the eerie orange of the parking lot street lamps flooded into the room. Dean ran for his bag, calling to Sam, "Stay with Cas. Turn the lights on."
For a second the brightness was almost blinding and Dean had to squint against the glare, shoving his gun into his belt and pulling out salt and holy water. They would be much more effective against demons than bullets. He didn't dare look back to see if Sam was armed, if he had Cas safe. Dean trusted Sam to look after himself.
At least, Dean thought, they weren't Leviathan. That would have made things a whole lot more complicated. It was bad enough that, somehow, demons had found them because there was no way them showing up the day after a weakened Cas showed up was any kind of coincidence.
There was no more time to figure it out though because a guy who looked like he'd just stepped out of a wrestling ring was fighting his way through the door. Dean didn't give it a chance to get any further than one step in over the threshold before he threw holy water into its face. It screamed and recoiled and its eyes slashed black. Definitely demons. Dean could smell the sulfur in the air.
He didn't get the chance to make a headcount of how many demons were outside because then something crashed through the window beside the door sending glass flying and Dean had to cover his face with an arm. He felt shards pricking at the skin of his hand.
The next thing he knew, a heavy weight barreled into him, knocking him onto his back. Instinctively, Dean reached down for the knife he had stashed in his boot and stabbed the point directly between the demon's eyes. It howled, letting go of Dean as it scrabbled to remove the knife and Dean took the opportunity to roll its body off him and throw salt into its face.
Standing up and taking in the room Dean could see three more demons had poured in to the room and there were a couple more outside. Too many, Dean thought.
Over by the kitchen area Sam and Cas were cornered by them, and Cas was clinging to Sam's legs looking small and afraid, but angry and determined. Sam lashed out, slashing a deep wound into the closest demon. The wound crackled and the demon hissed and took a step back. But in its place the other two rushed Sam, grabbing at his arms. The third reached for Cas and Dean didn't care if there were five thousand of the fucking things. He was going to destroy every fucking one of them.
He pulled out his gun, carefully aimed and would've blown the demon making for Cas's brains out- he knew it wouldn't kill the thing, but it would slow it down- but then the wrestler from before grabbed him from behind and tossed him straight out the door. Dean landed on cold snow, could feel the wetness of it against his cheek. It was better, he guessed, than landing on concrete.
"We just want the angel." One of the demons that had been outside crouched down beside Dean, a woman with high heels and tight jeans and a thick southern accent. "We're not here for you," she said. Like that would make any difference to Dean. Trying to take her by surprise Dean grabbed for her ankle and pulled, unbalancing her. She fell back on to the snow but she was laughing.
"Yes," she laughed. "He said you'd be like this."
Dean didn't even see the fist that hit him hard across the face next coming, he just knew it fucking hurt. Then another punch across the face, then one to the stomach. Under his back the snow was melting and Dean could feel cold, wet dampness seeping through his sweatshirt. He was dizzy, losing concentration, but he had to hold on, think of something and fast because Sam and Cas were outnumbered and Dean had sworn that this time he would protect them. But his gun was gone, he'd used his knife and lost that too. Under his hands the cold snow was making Dean's fingers numb, he dug into it thinking, it was water, blessing it even as he felt his nose break, felt hot blood on his lips.
Before he could shove the snow in the demon's face the hands holding him down were suddenly gone; a flash of light so bright it burned his eyes, a screaming sound, and then hands- smaller hands- grasping at his shoulders.
"Dean," he heard. Dean!" Cas's voice, Dean recognized and tried opening his eyes but they felt heavy, swollen shut. He wanted to answer, to make sure Cas was okay, to ask where Sam was but it took all his concentration just to stay conscious. Then, there were hands on his face, cold, resting carefully on his cheeks and in the next second the pain was gone, the weight and the feeling of wanting to puke. Dean opened his eyes to see Cas leaning over him, looking down at him in concentration.
"Cas," Dean frowned, because he sure as hell didn't think he had the energy to spare to heal others when he couldn't even heal himself.
A shadow fell over them and Cas was yanked away. Dean scrambled to his feet, unable to do anything as another demon, a short guy in a cheap suit and bright, yellow tie, lifted Cas bodily up by his collar and threw him against the motel wall. There was a sickening sound as he impacted and Dean hoped like hell Cas hadn't broken anything. Either way the fucker who'd done it wasn't going to get the chance to hurt Cas anymore. Dean was on him in an instant, furious, tearing at the guy's douchy hair and pulling at his tie. The ferociousness of his attack took the demon by surprise and it was almost easy for Dean to swing his opponent around and knock him down, pressing him face down into the snow Dean had blessed. Its flesh hissed and the demon howled and struggled and Dean held him down until he saw smoke pouring from its ears, bleeding out into the night air. Looking over his shoulder Dean could see Cas, slumped and motionless against the wall and he cursed, wishing for a knife, wishing for this demon to not have stopped kicking so that he could really make the asshole suffer.
He made to get up and go to him but the high-heeled demon moved between him and Cas, somehow steady on her feet even in the thick snow and slippery ice. She brandished a knife of her own, looking between Cas and Dean, trying to decide which to go for. Back inside the motel room Dean could hear the sounds of a fight; Sam, Dean guessed.
"You should've just let us have him," she hissed. "We'll get him in the end anyway."
"Like fuck you will, bitch." It was easy to rush her, to let his fury that demons would dare fuck with his family propel him forward, knocking her off her expensive heels, spitting out an exorcism and enjoying every second of it, watching as she writhed and snapped at him and struggled. When he was done, when it was over and her body had gone still, Dean let himself lay there for a second, breathing heavily, panting for air. It was quiet except for the crunch of snow and Sam's voice calling, "Cas! Come on, man. Wake up!"
Collecting himself, without a single look back, Dean went over to them, his brother and his best friend who at the moment looked like a sick five year old. Sam had a hand pressed against Cas's forehead, bright blood under his fingers. Cas was bleeding sluggishly from his nose too, and his cheek and chin were grazed and bruised. Dean kneeled down in the snow beside where Sam had Cas pulled up onto his lap, wiped away the blood from Cas's nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
"All dead?" Dean asked and Sam replied, "Yeah. Cas exorcised a couple, or whatever it is he does."
"We gotta get out of here," Dean said. "Do you- do we need to take Cas to a hospital or something." It was pretty much the last thing Dean wanted to do if there were demons after Cas's hide, but he would if he had to, and Cas was so frigging pale Dean was almost certain there wasn't much choice. But then Cas's eyelids fluttered and he groaned softly, trying to turn his head away from Sam's hands.
"It's okay," Sam soothed. "Just hold still. It's okay. It's just me and Dean."
Cas subsided, opening his eyes blearily and Dean didn't like what he saw.
"Concussion," he guessed. He'd seen it enough times, had them enough himself to recognize them easily.
"I'm fine," Cas tried but his voice was thin and almost too quiet to hear.
"Yeah, sure," Dean scoffed. Around them lay a whole bunch of dead demons, the window smashed, what remained of the door hanging from its hinges and it was a miracle no one had come out to see what the hell was going on. Or else the demons had already killed everyone else.
It was starting to snow again, a fine layer of white blanketing the wreckage of the fight. Cas's teeth were starting to chatter. "Sam, gather up our stuff," Dean ordered, taking Cas from Sam's arms, lifting him up easily. "I'll get Cas settled in the car."
Sam gave him a knowing smile but nodded, "No problem," and disappeared back into the room.
It was never not going to be freaky, Dean thought, being able to carry Cas like this, cradled in his arms. He dabbed at the cut on his head, following Sam through the wrecked doorway. The blood had slowed but it would need cleaning and covering, but luckily no stitches. Cas was shivering in his arms so Dean gathered up a bunch of the motel's crappy blankets and wrapped them around him. He snagged a couple of the pillows too before taking Cas out to the car. Sam threw a couple of their bags into the trunk before hurrying back to the room.
They needed to work out how the demons had known where to find them, and only Cas could answer that, but he didn't look in any state to be doing much of anything. They'd just have to run, for now. They had plenty of practice at that.
"Stupid angel," Dean scolded, carefully laying Cas on the back seat, head on the stolen pillows. "You shouldn't have wasted your mojo on me." If Cas had been paying attention to himself rather than Dean he'd be okay and Dean wouldn't be freaking out that Cas couldn't quite seem to focus on him.
"Not a waste," Cas said, closing his eyes.
Sam was loading up the last of their crap, shut the trunk and came round to give Dean his gun and knife. He had another couple comforters in his arms. "Get in the back with him." He shoved the comforters at Dean. "I'm driving."
Dean didn't argue.
***
In the end they just drove until dawn. If Dean had his way they'd have gone to the hospital to get Cas checked out, but the suggestion of going anywhere near human doctors seemed to freak the fuck out of Cas to the extent that it was better for all of them that they kept on moving.
Cas said, "I don't like hospitals," and wouldn't say anything else about it, turning to face the back of the seat and hiding his head under the blankets. For an angel who was at least several millennia old, he managed to do an awesome imitation of a little kid. Dean couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Cas in that hospital in Louisiana after the showdown with Zachariah. Maybe it just reminded him of being defenseless and alone and human.
He submitted to Dean cleaning up his forehead, covering it with a band-aid and resisting the urge to dig one out covered in dinosaurs or something. He ate unhappily and only because Dean nagged for an hour. Getting Cas to drink the juice Sam had brought with them was easier but he didn't relish any of it.
"I don't require sustenance," he argued again and Dean ignored him. Even Cas didn't sound like he believed it.
The sun hadn't long risen when Sam had to pull over to relieve himself and to stretch his legs. They hadn't driven as far as Dean would've liked but the roads were icy and the snow made speed impossible. It would have to be enough.
It was only then that Cas commented, "This isn't your car."
"No." Dean didn't like to think of the Impala, hidden under a tarp, locked away and alone. He hoped she wasn't too cold, that she wasn't wet and rusting when Dean wasn't there to do anything about it.
"I have missed many things," Cas frowned. He looked ridiculously cute half-buried under a mountain of covers, his black hair a stark contrast to the white of the pillows he lay on and staring at Dean so seriously.
"She's just in hiding," Dean shrugged seeing Cas's worry, and who the hell would ever have imagined an angel understanding the importance of a guy's car. "Like us."
"I'm glad," Cas said. "That your car is... well." He looked confused at his own words and Dean couldn't help laughing.
"Thanks," Dean smiled. He patted around where Cas's knees would be. Laid over the blankets wrapped around Cas was his old trench coat, still stained with flecks of black and red but dry. Too big for him to wear but still Cas seemed to like having it close. "I'm gonna take over the driving from Sam now so he can get some rest. You should sleep too."
"All I have done is sleep." Cas sounded grumpy and that, too, was kind of adorable.
"Then you shouldn't have fought a bunch and demons three times your size," Dean pointed out, and totally expected Cas's disgruntled, "They are not three times my size."
"Yeah, yeah."
They waited for Sam to return in silence and Dean thought that Cas had fallen asleep again but then, quietly, he asked, "Is Sam alright?"
It was easy to forget, even after only a day of Cas being back with them, how much had happened and how much Cas had missed.
Out the window Dean could see Sam with his arms wrapped around his chest, holding his jacket closed, head down against the icy wind, making his way towards the car.
"He's getting there," Dean replied, and found that he actually believed it.
He patted Cas's bundle of covers again before sliding out of the backseat to swap places with Sam. Within fifteen minutes both Cas and his brother were fast asleep. There were things he needed to ask Cas and they needed to catch him up on the Leviathan things, but just right then Dean was just glad to have most of what he loved in the world safe and breathing in the seat behind him and he drove in silence, not even bothering to turn on the car's crappy radio.
Sam only slept for a couple hours but even then they didn't talk much, not wanting to wake Cas. There wasn't much to say anyway.
Cas awoke even more irritable than before. Dean had the impression he would've fought Sam's attempts to check his concussion if he'd had the strength.
"From where I'm sitting," Dean said to the glaring Cas, "This looks one hell of a lot like a tantrum. I know something about kids and they've usually grown out of them by five. How many years you got on you, Cas?"
It was effective in getting Cas to settle, if not happily.
"I don't know why I want to defy you," Cas admitted. "It serves no purpose."
"Kids do that." It wasn't Cas's fault, he guessed, that he could neither control or understand his emotions. Dean would've been pretty pissed if he had been in that position too. "Something to do with testing boundaries or something."
Sullenly, Cas allowed Sam to press a cold towel against his cheek where the bruises had swollen. That probably wasn't helping his mood either, Dean thought. Like he had against Dean the day before, Cas leaned against Sam's chest and rested there until they had to stop again in the late afternoon at a gas station. They tried coaxing Cas out of the car but he wouldn't go, not wanting to leave the warmth.
Not wanting to leave Cas alone but needed to stand up and breathe fresh air Dean and Sam leaned against the car, drinking hot, crappy coffee from Styrofoam cups and ignoring the gentle snowfall around them.
"We're gonna have to stop for the night," Sam said, and it was something Dean had been worrying about too.
"I know," he said. He looked through the window at Cas, rubbing his eyes sleepily and wincing when he pressed too hard at the bruising there. "We can't stop at a motel."
"We don't know how they found us. Or Cas. Whatever." Sam shrugged. "We need to eat at some point too. Something that isn't cookies."
They'd been eating the cookies Sam and Cas had made the day before all afternoon.
Dean sniffed. "Damn good cookies though."
"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes.
"Y'know what? They'd go really well with coffee." He stuck his head into the car. "Hey, Cas. Did you eat the last cookies?"
"No," Cas said shortly and pointed to the bag in the footwell.
For all Sam's bitching he still ate three.
"We'll spend tonight in the car," Dean decided. Maybe it was just avoiding the issue, but Cas still needed to heal and Dean knew that when they started talking, when they started asking questions the peace he'd found in the past couple of days knowing that Cas was alive was going to be lost. When they admitted to weight of the past, let it in, it wasn't going to be easy to let it go again. "Tomorrow we'll work out what the fuck to do."
Dean had expected Sam to argue but he didn't.
"We can survive one night, I guess," he agreed instead, and maybe Sam didn't want to have to face any of that crap either.
They ate chips and nuts and half a bar of chocolate between them for dinner and Sam told them a boring story about some guy he'd met years back who swore the ghost of Abraham Lincoln haunted his bathroom. At least Cas seemed interested. They carefully avoided anything to do with the past few months, or really anything in the past at all.
Sam drove late into the night, trying to find somewhere remote so they'd see anyone coming, but not so remote that they'd get trapped in the car if there was a snowstorm or the crappy thing broke down and there was nothing either of them could do to get it working again. Cas dozed against his side and Dean was relieved to see the bruising and the grazing on his face healing faster now; maybe being warm and resting were helping him out. Helping him recharge. The sooner Cas would go back to being adult and fully charged the easier this would be. But when had anything been easier for the Winchesters?
As Dean's watch ticked over to midnight they decided on an empty lot a couple miles on the outskirts of a small, nondescript town. Sam crawled into the back and the three of them wrapped themselves in every blanket and comforter they had.
"Just a couple hours," Dean said, which wasn't really what anyone could classify as stopping for the night but it was the safest way to keep anyone finding them, and to stop them all freezing to death because now the engine was switched off the temperature inside the car was falling fast. If Dean wasn't imagining things, and he didn't think he was, he would've sworn Cas was hugging him the way he'd wrapped his hands around Dean's side, the way he pressed himself close.
In the silence of the car it wasn't difficult to hear him say, quietly, "Thank you. Both of you."
"You'd do the same for us," Sam said, and Dean couldn't see his face because there was no light out here, but he could tell from Sam's voice that he really meant that. Despite everything, this was one thing Dean could be sure of too and it was a fucking relief.
"As cute a kid as you are, Cas," Dean teased, not ready to let anything get between them yet, "Hurry up and go back to being an adult again. I can't swear or drink with you like this." It wasn't the truth at all and he could tell from Sam's snort that his brother didn't buy it for a second.
Cas, though, shifted against Dean and said, "You think I'm cute?"
It took half a damned hour for Sam to stop laughing and Dean would've been more pissed if it hadn't felt so much like family.
***
Dean knew he'd become too used to this.
They didn't hunt so much, because it was kind of hard to hunt with a five year old in tow and no matter how many times Castiel insisted his vessel was small he was still himself and getting stronger every day there was no way Dean was chancing it.
Instead of calling Bobby to ask if he'd picked up any leads, any hunts, Dean called him every day to make sure they were steering away from anything that looked like demons or Leviathan or anything close to supernatural and mean. This he didn't tell Cas about, but from the suspicious, thoughtful looks Castiel had taken to giving him over the bowls and bowls of cereal he liked eating Dean was pretty sure he knew anyway.
And Jesus, the cereal he could get through was frigging epic.
"Maybe it's like crack for angels?" Sam suggested and Dean didn't find the joke even a little funny. He'd seen what Cas looked like high and Dean didn't like to remember it. Sam must've seen something in his face because he added hastily, "At least he chose something that's at least kind of healthy."
They moved on every morning, never staying more than a day anywhere. They learned every hiding spell and sigil they could find, and Cas taught them some that'd never been seen on Earth, and they used them all. It was a shitty life and they were tired from the driving and bored from doing nothing, but it was still kind of cool. Different. Almost a vacation, except for the paranoia of keeping Cas safe and Sam sane.
Dean introduced Cas to every awesome food he could think of, and on the long nights they spent in motel rooms watching Doctor Sexy re-runs Dean patiently explained every back story and character. Cas mostly looked bemused, Sam staunchly ignoring them and doing whatever the fuck he did on his laptop for hours on end. Maybe buying dolls. Who knew.
As they watched, Dean discovered that Cas wasn't interested in any of the medical stuff, not that there was much of that. His expression took on a pinched look at the family plot lines, and he was fascinated by the friendships and romances.
"We should start you on Harlequin," Dean laughed and quickly changed the subject when Cas looked interested.
Their crappy stolen car broke down almost every other day and the skin of Dean's hands became cracked and painful where he had to work out in sub-zero temperatures, in howling winds, trying to get the thing to move again. The first few times it happened Cas tried to help even though he shivered miserably in the cold. Dean took to locking him in the car, but at the next opportunity he had Cas would take Dean's hands and heal them, no matter how many times Dean told him not to.
"You don't need to do that," Dean sighed even as he enjoyed the warmth in his fingers, the way the prickling cold receded, his joints free of aching and stiffness. His hands were probably in better shape now than they had been in years.
"But I want to," Castiel told him fiercely.
Not once did they talk about what had happened before. They caught Cas up on where they were at with the Leviathan situation, which didn't take long because there wasn't much to tell. As creatures from before even the angels Cas had nothing to offer except guilt and regret. Dean knew all about that. It was made worse though because in a child's body Cas had less control over what he was feeling, felt more. There weren't so much tears as huge, sad eyes and it was instinct, Dean told himself, an automatic reaction he'd learned raising Sam, that had him pulling Cas into his lap and hugging him when he looked like he needed it. It wasn't like Cas seemed to mind.
They didn't talk about what would happen when Cas was an adult again. Cas was confident it wouldn't be long and Dean believed him. Over the month they spent traveling, moving randomly and leaving as little trail as they could, Cas slept less, ate less, became more confident. But he still clung to Dean, and to Sam, and he still ate cereal and watched crappy TV with Dean so it was all good.
Until it wasn't.
The three of them had formed the habit of sharing a bed, Cas between them. It was never too crowded or too hot- though that was often because their motel room was so frigging cold- except somewhere west of [place] Dean woke up hanging half off his side of the bed. One arm had gone numb, trapped under a much heavier weight than Cas. His other arm lay over someone much bigger than a five year old. Dean's first thought was that it was Sam, but the material under his hand felt too crisp and cold to be one of Sam's soft t-shirts. And then Dean opened his eyes and he saw; it was Cas, fully grown, somehow wearing his suit and shirt. He faced Dean, eyes closed, hair mashed against the pillow and sticking up in all directions and Dean froze. On the other side of Cas, Sam was still snoring loudly and Dean kind of hated him because it was over, Dean thought. The comfort he'd found in this. The closeness to Cas. Now Cas was back to being an adult there was no way he would want this anymore. It was hard to let go, and it only became worse when Cas's eyes opened, blinking slowly like he really was waking up. Their eyes met and maybe Cas didn't know he was back to being himself because he smiled at Dean with all the warmth and joy and inhibition of a child.
He reached out the same way he had done almost every day since he'd been back to hold on to Dean's t-shirt and it was then that Cas realized, looking at his own hand like it was a strange, foreign thing.
There was no excuse anymore, no reason to be this close and Dean pulled away, immediately missing Cas's warmth. This was what he'd wanted, he reminded himself. He couldn't look at Cas as a five year old the way he wanted to look at Cas, but now that he saw him for the first time in months looking exactly the same, looking at Dean with the exact same focused stare, it was too much.
There was too much between them like this and Dean turned away, getting out of the bed as quickly as he could.
He ignored the way Cas had still been reaching out for him.
"I guess you're back to normal," Dean said. "You got all your powers?"
There was a long pause and Dean looked back at Cas who was watching with a blank expression. "Yes," he replied eventually.
Sam was starting to stir, mumbling about the noise and rubbing at his eyes.
Dean swallowed. "You don't need us looking after you anymore then."
Another pause. "I haven't needed looking after for some time."
Dean didn't know what the fuck made him say it, but he couldn't stop himself saying, "Then what are you still hanging around for?"
It was like Dean just wanted it over. He knew Cas was going to leave and everything was going to go back to being complicated and shitty again, and he just didn't want to have to deal with it. He'd said the right thing- the wrong thing- too because the next thing he heard was a flurry of wings, he felt a cold gust of air, and when he turned back to the bed to see Sam pushing himself up onto his elbows with a confused expression on his face, Cas was gone.
***
For nine days Dean had kept his mouth shut. For all of the nine days since he'd last seen Cas, sleep-rumpled and warm but fully grown and uncomfortable in his skin, Dean had tried not to be pissed. He'd tried not to be mad as hell at him for leaving all over again, for not telling Dean what the fuck was going on, for not coming back. He tried to ignore how much that hurt because a whole lot of it was his own damned fault.
Sam called him an idiot and told him to just frigging call Cas. It'd been nine frigging days and Dean couldn't wait any more.
"Cas," he said to the night air. "Castiel. Get your ass back here right the fuck now." He hated that he still couldn't be sure Cas would come, even after everything. He hated even more that he was the reason Cas had gone in the first place.
Dean'd had nine days to think about exactly how he should've let Cas hold onto him when he'd reached out. How he should have just manned up and reached right the hell back.
It was a relief to hear the familiar sound of beating wings, and then Cas was standing there, right in front of Dean, too close and his expression too blank and Dean took a step back, scowling.
"Dean," Cas greeted, like it was nothing.
He had no right to be angry, Dean knew that. He was more angry at himself than anything, but still he found himself accusing, "Where the fuck have you been, man? You disappear the second you get your mojo back and that's it? We could've used your help." That last part was only half true, but Cas didn’t need to know that.
It struck Dean as weird how he could see the long sigh Cas breathed out in a swirling mist of warm air. The ice and the snow might finally have started receding but it was still freeze-your-balls-off cold and Dean was beginning to regret choosing the farthest edge of the parking lot of the hotel he and Sam are staying in for this. If he'd had any sense he would have chosen somewhere inside, but somewhere along the line it had become some inexplicable habit that Dean call for Cas out in the open air. Maybe he just didn't want anyone else to hear this conversation.
"You made it clear I should leave," Cas said pointedly, and yeah, okay, Dean deserved that. Cas didn't meet Dean's eyes when he said, "You had only to call and I would come."
It was like nothing had changed, like they were at exactly at the same place they'd been months ago when Cas was sneaking around with Crowley and Dean couldn't find the courage to call for Cas just for the sake of hanging out.
Looking at Cas- this Cas, complete with clean, fixed up coat, stubble, sad blue eyes, standing awkwardly in the darkest corner of a parking lot because Dean had called for him- Dean made a decision. It was a decision he should have made months ago. Maybe years ago.
"No, see, we're not doing that shit again." Dean was done making the same mistakes over and over. He was done getting things wrong every single time, of missing every chance at having something good because he was too afraid of losing it. "I'm a dick," he admitted. "I didn't mean for you to leave like that. Me and Sam didn't know if you were, y'know, doing okay or whatever."
"My Grace is fully recovered. You don't need to worry-"
"No, Cas," Dean interrupted. "I don't need to frigging worry but I do anyway. I'm an ass, but you already knew that. Didn't you listen to anything we said? You're one of us." There was so much more to it than that, but all Dean could say was, "You gotta check in with us sometimes. Jesus. I didn't know if you were coming back."
It was an admission Dean hadn't meant to make but it gets Cas to look up and meet his eyes.
"Of course I was, Dean. I meant it when I said I will always come when you call." He smiled wryly. "Even if you are, as you say, an ass."
"Sorry about that," Dean murmured.
Cas met his eyes and Dean couldn't look away because what he saw there was what he saw in the mirror on his own face every time he thought about what it could be like to be with Cas.
Cas must've seen it too because he took a tentative step closer moving into Dean's personal space. Close enough that Dean could feel the warmth of his body. Or maybe it was warmth of the angel inside that body because it was cold enough that Dean's fingers were starting to prickle painfully. He rubbed his hands together briskly.
Maybe Cas understood this stuff more than Dean gave him credit for. Maybe he didn't have to say it.
Dean licked his dry lips and it was impossible to miss the way Cas's eyes tracked the movement.
It'd been fine was Cas was five and kind of emotional and occasionally clingy. It'd been easy then to be close to him and not think anything like how much Dean wanted Cas. Now he was adult again, now he was himself and this was a risk. With Cas standing right in front of him, watching Dean as though he were the only thing in the frigging universe it was a risk Dean was going to take.
It took only a small step forward to be right up in Cas's space, chests almost touching. Dean watched Cas watching him as he leaned in, let him see what he was going to do, giving him every chance to stop him or escape or whatever. Dean didn't dare hope that Cas would want this, instead keeping his mind blank, thinking only of the brightness of Cas's eyes despite how dark a night it was, moonless and thick with clouds, the warmth of his breath against Dean's lips, the dryness of his cheeks as Dean brought his hands up to frame Cas's face. Cas didn't draw away. He didn't flinch or look unsure, just let Dean press their mouths together gently and after a moment of doubt where Dean was convinced Cas hadn't actually understood what was going on after all, Cas kissed him back.
It became easier, the two of them sliding together, fitting themselves closer, Cas bringing his arms up to curl around Dean's waist, their tongues meeting lazily, curiously. There was no hurry, none of the crazy lust Dean usually felt when he did this kind of thing. This was different. This was about showing Cas that Dean wanted him around for nothing more than just being there.
When they broke apart neither of them went far, close enough that their noses almost touched and Dean could taste Cas's words when he said, "I see."
"It's not just 'cause I want this either." Dean ran his fingers lightly along the sides of Cas's face to his neck, the collar of a coat that had for so long been the only thing Dean had left of this. "We don't have to. You can flap away and do your thing, yeah. Me and Sam couldn't stop you even if we wanted to. But I want you to get that you don't have to do everything on your own. Me and Sam want to know what's going on with you." Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to say, That's what got us into this mess in the first place, but instead settled on, "We work together."
There were issues of trust and mistakes and not talking to each other that they'd barely started to work out, but he wanted to. God, he wanted to.
Cas kissed him again and it felt like a promise and an apology and possession. They both did better with actions than words anyway. For now, Cas offered no excuses and no explanations; that would come later because then Cas said, "I didn't-" He paused, started again. "I'll stay."
End