Fic: What You Crave
Feb. 23rd, 2011 08:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dauntperplexityTitle: What You Crave
Author: DauntPerplexity
Rating: PG
Genre: pre-slash, awesome!Sam
Characters and/or Pairing: Sam, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Season 6
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3035
Summary: And while he was drinking his beer, he knew he’d be pumping his brother full of alcohol.
Author’s Note: The fic was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
d_hearts_c Dean/Castiel Valentine’s Challenge for a prompt by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfinthenight . Here is the prompt: Sam was really hoping Dean wouldn't be expecting Sam to plow him full of booze and burgers every time he wanted to talk about his feelings for Cas.
“Dean, it’s only—”
“No.”
“I can trust him,” Castiel sighed.
“Really.”
“Yes.”
“Me and Sam will come with you then.”
Sam looked up, not wanting to get involved in the argument between the two of them. He sighed when he realized that he probably didn’t have a choice since his name was brought up.
“You two have a hunt here.”
“Well, we’ll finish it then come help you.”
“You know that the hunt will take a few more days. And I’d rather you not rush a job.”
“Fine,” Dean growled.
“Dean,” Castiel said, tired.
“Just…” Dean let his voice trail off, calming himself as much as he could. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
Castiel let out an exasperated sigh. He looked over to Sam who was sitting at the table. The younger Winchester shrugged at him. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait, Cas. He didn’t—” Sam tried to say, but Castiel disappeared before he had a chance to say anything important. “Why?” he asked his brother.
“Damnit!” Dean yelled. He looked around the room for something to hit.
“Don’t break the lamp,” Sam yelled, when his brother’s gaze zoned in on the lamp next to the TV.
“I just…”
“Want to hit something, I know. Just don’t hit the lamp. Hit your pillow or something.” Dean turned to him, his glare moving from the lamp. “Okay, I know that was a dumb thing to suggest, but don’t break anything.”
“I am going to strangle him,” he growled. He lifted his arms up and acted as if Castiel were standing in front of him and he was actually going to go through with it. “Just wrap my hands around his neck and—”
“Dean,” Sam yelled. He was a little shaken with how violent his brother was sounding about a friend.
“It won’t hurt him.” His logic made sense.
“And that makes it okay?”
“I’ll feel okay.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I don’t—”
“I’m hungry,” Sam interrupted. He knew exactly what kind of a night it was going to turn out to be. “And I could use a beer.” And while he was drinking his beer, he knew he’d be pumping his brother full of alcohol.
“Yeah,” Dean said, his mind taking a detour at the thought of food. “I could use a burger.”
“Do you want me to pick something up or—”
“We’re going to a bar,” Dean decided.
“Of course we are. Within walking distance or not?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Walking distance,” Sam decided. The last thing that he wanted was to have to drive his drunk brother to and from a bar. Especially since he knew how drunk his brother was going to be by the end of the night. “Let’s go.”
He wanted his brother to get a move on because he knew the sooner his brother started drinking, the sooner he’d get drunk, which meant the sooner he’d pass out. And he would be able to do his research in peace.
Dean grabbed his jacket off of the back of a chair.
Sam did the same and followed his brother out of the room. They ended up at a bar a few blocks away. It had everything that they needed. Burgers, good choice of beer, and tequila.
Dean went straight to the bar and started chatting it up with the bartender. She was cute.
Sam thought that he would have more time.
Twenty minutes later, Sam and Dean found themselves sitting at a table in the corner of the bar. They hadn’t ordered anything to eat, but Dean was on his fourth, or was it fifth, beer while Sam was nursing his first for all it was worth. They both looked up when they saw the bartender nearing them.
“One more beer,” Dean said.
“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile and headed back to the bar.
When she was out of earshot, Sam punched his brother in his arm. “Dean, stop it,” Sam said.
“What?” he asked innocently, because he really didn’t know what he did to deserve the abuse.
“We both know that she is not who you want to be with tonight.”
“Yes, I do,” Dean said. But he didn’t sound so convincing.
“Only because she has brown hair and blue eyes,” Sam countered.
Dean glared at his brother. “What are you trying to say, Sam?”
Sam rolled his eyes. He could have dropped a hint the size of Jupiter on his brother and he still wouldn’t have got it. It just meant that he wasn’t drunk enough. “I don’t have to try and say anything, Dean. You’re acting like an idiot.”
“Whatever,” Dean said. “You don’t have to be here.”
Sam knew that wasn’t true. He had to do this every single time Dean was upset with Castiel. Or concerned and masked it by being upset. Or was fawning over the angel, and again, masked it by being upset. “Yes, I do. Because I’m your brother and it is my responsibility to make sure you don’t do anything you regret. And this way, I get to watch over the money you’re spending.”
“I just want food and a beer. Maybe a few shots.”
“Like one or two?”
“We’ll see.”
That meant that the shot count was going to reach into double digits. “Of course we will,” he replied. He thought that he’d only have to get his brother drunk once or twice before his brother pulled his head out of his ass and openly admit that he cared about the angel.
This was his ninth time having to do this.
The waitress-bartender returned with another bottle. “Here’s your beer.” She put it down in front of Dean and grabbed the empty bottles that littered the table.
“Thanks.” Dean sent a wink her way and she left them alone.
Sam quickly stood up and followed her back to the bar. He sat down in the stools and waited for her to turn around.
When she did, she jumped. “You finally finished with your beer?”
“No,” he replied. “Can you bring us some tequila? And two shot glasses?”
“Sure thing.”
“How much for the bottle?” he asked.
“The bottle?”
“Nothing too expensive. See, my brother had a rough day today. I want to help him forget about it.” He was mostly telling her the truth.
“Oh, poor thing,” she replied.
Sam would have rolled his eyes if she weren’t looking straight at him. “Yeah, I know. But what can we do, right?” He really hoped that he didn’t sound too sarcastic.
“I’ll be right over with that.”
“And is it okay for me to place an order of two bacon cheeseburgers?”
“It’s fine. I’m just expecting a very big tip from you guys tonight.”
“Definitely.” If she could help him get Dean drunk enough to spill his soul before one o’clock, she would make a lot of money off of them by the end of the night.
Sam went back to his seat and saw that Dean had already drank nearly half of his beer.
Dean stared at his brother as he sat back down in his seat. “What was that?” he finished off his beer.
“Just asking her a question.” He realized that his brother was at his snippy stage. His emotional, outpouring stage was a few ounces of alcohol away.
“Like what?”
“Wondering what was in the salads here.”
“Oh yeah.” He didn’t believe a word that was coming out of Sam’s mouth. “And.”
“I decided to pass. I figured it was a burger night.”
“Okay, Mr. Evasive. I’ll let it slide.”
“I’m not being evasive.”
“Whatever.” He reached for his beer, wanting to take another sip from it, but was disappointed when he realized it was empty. He was about to say something else when the waitress interrupted him.
“This is for you guys,” she said, putting a bottle of Don Julio in the middle of the table. She put the shot glasses in front of each of the men.
“What is this?” Dean asked, looking back and forth from the bottle to the waitress.
She smiled and grabbed Dean by the chin. “It’s tequila, honey.”
“I got that.” He jerked his head out of her grip. “But why are you giving this to us?”
“Because tequila is delicious. And I like to screw with my bosses. This bottle is yours.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Just accept it.”
“Thanks,” the brothers said at the same time.
“Your burgers should be out in a few.” She then disappeared from the table.
“You had nothing to do with this?” he asked.
“No. I don’t even like tequila.” It was a half-truth. But half a truth was enough for Dean to believe him.
“Well, we might as well not let it go to waste.”
“Agreed.” He knew that he would have to take at least one shot to get his brother started. He poured out two shots. He raised his glass for a cheers and his brother did the same.
Dean was three shots in before his burger got to the table.
Dean drank down another shot and slammed the glass onto the table. He rubbed his eyes like he was tired. “He doesn’t understand.”
“What?” Sam asked even though he knew what Dean was talking about. His brother was at the point where he was ready to spill his soul.
It was first thing that either of them said since Dean had started drinking tequila. Even when the burgers were brought to the table, Dean was only able to smile and nod.
“You know.”
“I don’t actually.” Dean had a lot of reasons to act the way he was, Sam just wanted to know which one it was tonight.
“He doesn’t know how to ask for help.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does. Because he’s being unreasonable.”
“How?”
“All he has to do is say, ‘Hey, Dean. I need help fighting this angel’ or ‘Dean, I found the real Ark of the Covenant, let’s go get it’ or ‘Balthazar is being a dick you want to help me teach him a lesson?’”
“Because that is exactly what he would say.”
“He should.”
“Well, Dean, you aren’t exactly forthcoming about when you need help.”
“I can take care of myself,” he said with a pout.
“Well, Castiel can too.”
“No, he can’t.”
“You aren’t giving him enough credit.”
“I’m giving him more than enough credit.” He reached for the bottle of tequila, but Sam snatched it out of the way. “Cas is by himself. He doesn’t have anyone to have his back. I have you.”
“Okay.”
“So what if he gets hurt?”
“Then he’ll heal, like he always does.” They both knew it was a lot easier for him to do that now that he was a full powered angel again. One less thing that Dean had to worry about.
“But—”
Sam wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it onto his empty plate. “You want to tell me what is really going on?”
“What?”
He looked at his brother’s burger and saw that it was a little more than halfway done. “I’m almost done with my food. I can only pump so much alcohol into you to make you talk before I want to strangle you. You’re at your talking stage. So talk. Any more alcohol and you’ll start crying.”
“No,” he replied, indignant.
“Yes. You are already at the point where you aren’t going to remember this tomorrow. So what is going on?” he coaxed.
“It’s Cas.”
“No,” he said, feigning surprise.
“Yeah. I don’t…” He sighed. He was going through all of the things he wanted to say. “He’s already died for me… us twice. Three times if you count that time I went to the future. I can’t… I won’t let him die again.”
“But if he does die, it won’t be because of us. He’s fighting a war in Heaven.”
“That I can’t do anything to help him.”
“It’s not your fight.”
“It doesn’t matter, Sam. He’s our friend.”
“More than a friend.”
“No,” Dean said too quickly. “He’s a friend.”
“You guys share a profound bond, remember? One that I wasn’t supposed to know about.”
“Well, you do now. Friggin’ angel.”
“How endearing,” he said with a laugh.
“He can’t die, Sam. Not after everything.”
“You ever tell him that?”
“When would I have had the time? He’s barely around.”
Dean had a point. Since Castiel had been brought back to life a second time, he wasn’t around as often as he was in the past. “But it has to count that he said he’d rather be here than up there.”
“Saying it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Dean, he’s trying.”
“Not hard enough. And now he’s working with another angel on a mission that we can’t help him with. We can’t trust him. What if he double-crosses him? We can’t trust him.”
“You sound jealous.” Which Dean was. But he was also protective. It was Dean’s way of saying that he was scared for the angel. He was unintentionally telling Sam how he really felt.
“I just want him to be safe,”
“Aw. You miss your angel.”
“Shut up. I don’t.”
He grinned. He loved that his brother denied that he missed Castiel, but didn’t deny the angel was his. “Whatever,” he said with a sigh. “Honestly, Dean, it’s all right to say that you care about him once in awhile.”
Dean groaned and pressed his palms to his eyes. “I think that I’m done for the night.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah. I know.”
He slid his shot glass across the table and over to Sam. “One more shot.”
“Go ahead.”
“You’re supposed to be stopping me.”
“I think we passed the point where it doesn’t matter. And I’m pretty sure if I tired to stop you earlier, you’d hit me.”
“Stupid angel,” Dean sighed. Sam poured shots out in both glasses and held it out a glass to him. Dean grabbed it and held it up. “To the fact that I’m not going to remember this tomorrow.”
“Cheers.”
Dean drank down the alcohol and stood up. Or at least he tried. He got to his feet on his third try. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Let’s go,” Sam agreed.
“But the bill.”
“I already paid it.” Sam dropped three fifties on the table before they left. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the motel.” He reached for his brother’s arm, but Dean took a swing at him.
“Don’t touch me. I can walk by myself.”
“I know, Dean.”
Sam had to give his brother credit. Every time he did this, no matter how drunk Dean was, he always made it back to the motel on his own power; even if he had to crawl the last few feet. Sam always stayed a few feet behind him, pushing his brother in the right direction when he veered too far one way or another.
After seventeen minutes, when the walk should have taken only ten at the most, they made it back to the motel.
“Okay, sit,” Sam said, depositing his brother on the edge of his bed. He had to keep a hand on his shoulder so he didn’t lean to one side or fall forward. “Dean, five seconds and you can pass out.”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Five seconds.”
“Why?” Dean tried to growl, but instead sounding more like a baby.
“You aren’t falling asleep in your jacket. That isn’t comfortable.”
Dean pulled at the sleeves of his jacket, trying to yank it off. He struggled with it though. Thankfully, Sam helped him instead of laughed.
As soon as he was down to his shirt and boxers, he lied down. “‘Night.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” Sam said with a laugh. His brother was about to sleep, but not just yet. If that pattern repeated itself, and Dean was a man of routine, Dean needed to go through one more emotional moment.
“Sam,” Dean groaned.
“Yes, Dean?” he replied. He took a seat at the table, and opened his laptop.
“I miss him,” he whispered.
“I know, Dean.” It was hard for him to ignore how much his brother cared about Castiel.
“Don’t tell him I said this.”
“I never do.”
One day, Dean was going to say something that meaningful to Castiel. Hopefully without the help of alcohol. One day, his brother was going to get his head out of his ass. This was not the day. But Sam hoped it would come soon.
“Good talk, Sam.”
“Good night, Dean.”
Dean could only groan as a reply. He rolled over and settled into his bed.
Sam walked over and turned off the lamp that gave light to that side of the room when he heard the echoes of Dean’s soft snores. “Until your next chick flick moment,” he said.
He walked over back to the table and took a seat. The night was early enough. He smiled knowing he was going to get a lot of work done. But he had to do something first.
“Cas,” he whispered.
Wings flapping echoed in the room. “Yes?” Castiel whispered, appearing in the room. He looked around and saw Dean sleeping on his bed.
“You know he only acts that way because he cares about you.” Maybe even loved him.
Castiel sighed, his whole body looking tired and ready to just collapse. “I know. I should—”
“If you aren’t needed anywhere. Stay,” Sam replied. “You look like you could use a break.”
“I’m not needed anywhere,” Castiel said.
“I don’t know if you sleep or not, but if you want to just lie down and close your eyes, you are more than welcome to.”
Castiel stripped off his trenchcoat and suit jacket. He laid them over the back of the empty chair in the room. He stood between the two beds, contemplating which one to lie down in. He chose to lie down on the empty side of Dean’s bed.
Sam smiled, watching it all happen. His smile grew when he watched his brother roll over and throw his arm over Castiel’s torso and pulled him against his body.
Once everyone was settled, he started again on his work. But not without the knowledge that he was awesome.
Author: DauntPerplexity
Rating: PG
Genre: pre-slash, awesome!Sam
Characters and/or Pairing: Sam, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Season 6
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3035
Summary: And while he was drinking his beer, he knew he’d be pumping his brother full of alcohol.
Author’s Note: The fic was written for
d_hearts_c Dean/Castiel Valentine’s Challenge for a prompt by wolfinthenight . Here is the prompt: Sam was really hoping Dean wouldn't be expecting Sam to plow him full of booze and burgers every time he wanted to talk about his feelings for Cas.“Dean, it’s only—”
“No.”
“I can trust him,” Castiel sighed.
“Really.”
“Yes.”
“Me and Sam will come with you then.”
Sam looked up, not wanting to get involved in the argument between the two of them. He sighed when he realized that he probably didn’t have a choice since his name was brought up.
“You two have a hunt here.”
“Well, we’ll finish it then come help you.”
“You know that the hunt will take a few more days. And I’d rather you not rush a job.”
“Fine,” Dean growled.
“Dean,” Castiel said, tired.
“Just…” Dean let his voice trail off, calming himself as much as he could. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
Castiel let out an exasperated sigh. He looked over to Sam who was sitting at the table. The younger Winchester shrugged at him. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait, Cas. He didn’t—” Sam tried to say, but Castiel disappeared before he had a chance to say anything important. “Why?” he asked his brother.
“Damnit!” Dean yelled. He looked around the room for something to hit.
“Don’t break the lamp,” Sam yelled, when his brother’s gaze zoned in on the lamp next to the TV.
“I just…”
“Want to hit something, I know. Just don’t hit the lamp. Hit your pillow or something.” Dean turned to him, his glare moving from the lamp. “Okay, I know that was a dumb thing to suggest, but don’t break anything.”
“I am going to strangle him,” he growled. He lifted his arms up and acted as if Castiel were standing in front of him and he was actually going to go through with it. “Just wrap my hands around his neck and—”
“Dean,” Sam yelled. He was a little shaken with how violent his brother was sounding about a friend.
“It won’t hurt him.” His logic made sense.
“And that makes it okay?”
“I’ll feel okay.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I don’t—”
“I’m hungry,” Sam interrupted. He knew exactly what kind of a night it was going to turn out to be. “And I could use a beer.” And while he was drinking his beer, he knew he’d be pumping his brother full of alcohol.
“Yeah,” Dean said, his mind taking a detour at the thought of food. “I could use a burger.”
“Do you want me to pick something up or—”
“We’re going to a bar,” Dean decided.
“Of course we are. Within walking distance or not?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Walking distance,” Sam decided. The last thing that he wanted was to have to drive his drunk brother to and from a bar. Especially since he knew how drunk his brother was going to be by the end of the night. “Let’s go.”
He wanted his brother to get a move on because he knew the sooner his brother started drinking, the sooner he’d get drunk, which meant the sooner he’d pass out. And he would be able to do his research in peace.
Dean grabbed his jacket off of the back of a chair.
Sam did the same and followed his brother out of the room. They ended up at a bar a few blocks away. It had everything that they needed. Burgers, good choice of beer, and tequila.
Dean went straight to the bar and started chatting it up with the bartender. She was cute.
Sam thought that he would have more time.
LRLRLRLRLRLRLR
Twenty minutes later, Sam and Dean found themselves sitting at a table in the corner of the bar. They hadn’t ordered anything to eat, but Dean was on his fourth, or was it fifth, beer while Sam was nursing his first for all it was worth. They both looked up when they saw the bartender nearing them.
“One more beer,” Dean said.
“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile and headed back to the bar.
When she was out of earshot, Sam punched his brother in his arm. “Dean, stop it,” Sam said.
“What?” he asked innocently, because he really didn’t know what he did to deserve the abuse.
“We both know that she is not who you want to be with tonight.”
“Yes, I do,” Dean said. But he didn’t sound so convincing.
“Only because she has brown hair and blue eyes,” Sam countered.
Dean glared at his brother. “What are you trying to say, Sam?”
Sam rolled his eyes. He could have dropped a hint the size of Jupiter on his brother and he still wouldn’t have got it. It just meant that he wasn’t drunk enough. “I don’t have to try and say anything, Dean. You’re acting like an idiot.”
“Whatever,” Dean said. “You don’t have to be here.”
Sam knew that wasn’t true. He had to do this every single time Dean was upset with Castiel. Or concerned and masked it by being upset. Or was fawning over the angel, and again, masked it by being upset. “Yes, I do. Because I’m your brother and it is my responsibility to make sure you don’t do anything you regret. And this way, I get to watch over the money you’re spending.”
“I just want food and a beer. Maybe a few shots.”
“Like one or two?”
“We’ll see.”
That meant that the shot count was going to reach into double digits. “Of course we will,” he replied. He thought that he’d only have to get his brother drunk once or twice before his brother pulled his head out of his ass and openly admit that he cared about the angel.
This was his ninth time having to do this.
The waitress-bartender returned with another bottle. “Here’s your beer.” She put it down in front of Dean and grabbed the empty bottles that littered the table.
“Thanks.” Dean sent a wink her way and she left them alone.
Sam quickly stood up and followed her back to the bar. He sat down in the stools and waited for her to turn around.
When she did, she jumped. “You finally finished with your beer?”
“No,” he replied. “Can you bring us some tequila? And two shot glasses?”
“Sure thing.”
“How much for the bottle?” he asked.
“The bottle?”
“Nothing too expensive. See, my brother had a rough day today. I want to help him forget about it.” He was mostly telling her the truth.
“Oh, poor thing,” she replied.
Sam would have rolled his eyes if she weren’t looking straight at him. “Yeah, I know. But what can we do, right?” He really hoped that he didn’t sound too sarcastic.
“I’ll be right over with that.”
“And is it okay for me to place an order of two bacon cheeseburgers?”
“It’s fine. I’m just expecting a very big tip from you guys tonight.”
“Definitely.” If she could help him get Dean drunk enough to spill his soul before one o’clock, she would make a lot of money off of them by the end of the night.
Sam went back to his seat and saw that Dean had already drank nearly half of his beer.
Dean stared at his brother as he sat back down in his seat. “What was that?” he finished off his beer.
“Just asking her a question.” He realized that his brother was at his snippy stage. His emotional, outpouring stage was a few ounces of alcohol away.
“Like what?”
“Wondering what was in the salads here.”
“Oh yeah.” He didn’t believe a word that was coming out of Sam’s mouth. “And.”
“I decided to pass. I figured it was a burger night.”
“Okay, Mr. Evasive. I’ll let it slide.”
“I’m not being evasive.”
“Whatever.” He reached for his beer, wanting to take another sip from it, but was disappointed when he realized it was empty. He was about to say something else when the waitress interrupted him.
“This is for you guys,” she said, putting a bottle of Don Julio in the middle of the table. She put the shot glasses in front of each of the men.
“What is this?” Dean asked, looking back and forth from the bottle to the waitress.
She smiled and grabbed Dean by the chin. “It’s tequila, honey.”
“I got that.” He jerked his head out of her grip. “But why are you giving this to us?”
“Because tequila is delicious. And I like to screw with my bosses. This bottle is yours.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Just accept it.”
“Thanks,” the brothers said at the same time.
“Your burgers should be out in a few.” She then disappeared from the table.
“You had nothing to do with this?” he asked.
“No. I don’t even like tequila.” It was a half-truth. But half a truth was enough for Dean to believe him.
“Well, we might as well not let it go to waste.”
“Agreed.” He knew that he would have to take at least one shot to get his brother started. He poured out two shots. He raised his glass for a cheers and his brother did the same.
Dean was three shots in before his burger got to the table.
LRLRLRLRLRLRLR
Dean drank down another shot and slammed the glass onto the table. He rubbed his eyes like he was tired. “He doesn’t understand.”
“What?” Sam asked even though he knew what Dean was talking about. His brother was at the point where he was ready to spill his soul.
It was first thing that either of them said since Dean had started drinking tequila. Even when the burgers were brought to the table, Dean was only able to smile and nod.
“You know.”
“I don’t actually.” Dean had a lot of reasons to act the way he was, Sam just wanted to know which one it was tonight.
“He doesn’t know how to ask for help.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does. Because he’s being unreasonable.”
“How?”
“All he has to do is say, ‘Hey, Dean. I need help fighting this angel’ or ‘Dean, I found the real Ark of the Covenant, let’s go get it’ or ‘Balthazar is being a dick you want to help me teach him a lesson?’”
“Because that is exactly what he would say.”
“He should.”
“Well, Dean, you aren’t exactly forthcoming about when you need help.”
“I can take care of myself,” he said with a pout.
“Well, Castiel can too.”
“No, he can’t.”
“You aren’t giving him enough credit.”
“I’m giving him more than enough credit.” He reached for the bottle of tequila, but Sam snatched it out of the way. “Cas is by himself. He doesn’t have anyone to have his back. I have you.”
“Okay.”
“So what if he gets hurt?”
“Then he’ll heal, like he always does.” They both knew it was a lot easier for him to do that now that he was a full powered angel again. One less thing that Dean had to worry about.
“But—”
Sam wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it onto his empty plate. “You want to tell me what is really going on?”
“What?”
He looked at his brother’s burger and saw that it was a little more than halfway done. “I’m almost done with my food. I can only pump so much alcohol into you to make you talk before I want to strangle you. You’re at your talking stage. So talk. Any more alcohol and you’ll start crying.”
“No,” he replied, indignant.
“Yes. You are already at the point where you aren’t going to remember this tomorrow. So what is going on?” he coaxed.
“It’s Cas.”
“No,” he said, feigning surprise.
“Yeah. I don’t…” He sighed. He was going through all of the things he wanted to say. “He’s already died for me… us twice. Three times if you count that time I went to the future. I can’t… I won’t let him die again.”
“But if he does die, it won’t be because of us. He’s fighting a war in Heaven.”
“That I can’t do anything to help him.”
“It’s not your fight.”
“It doesn’t matter, Sam. He’s our friend.”
“More than a friend.”
“No,” Dean said too quickly. “He’s a friend.”
“You guys share a profound bond, remember? One that I wasn’t supposed to know about.”
“Well, you do now. Friggin’ angel.”
“How endearing,” he said with a laugh.
“He can’t die, Sam. Not after everything.”
“You ever tell him that?”
“When would I have had the time? He’s barely around.”
Dean had a point. Since Castiel had been brought back to life a second time, he wasn’t around as often as he was in the past. “But it has to count that he said he’d rather be here than up there.”
“Saying it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Dean, he’s trying.”
“Not hard enough. And now he’s working with another angel on a mission that we can’t help him with. We can’t trust him. What if he double-crosses him? We can’t trust him.”
“You sound jealous.” Which Dean was. But he was also protective. It was Dean’s way of saying that he was scared for the angel. He was unintentionally telling Sam how he really felt.
“I just want him to be safe,”
“Aw. You miss your angel.”
“Shut up. I don’t.”
He grinned. He loved that his brother denied that he missed Castiel, but didn’t deny the angel was his. “Whatever,” he said with a sigh. “Honestly, Dean, it’s all right to say that you care about him once in awhile.”
Dean groaned and pressed his palms to his eyes. “I think that I’m done for the night.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah. I know.”
He slid his shot glass across the table and over to Sam. “One more shot.”
“Go ahead.”
“You’re supposed to be stopping me.”
“I think we passed the point where it doesn’t matter. And I’m pretty sure if I tired to stop you earlier, you’d hit me.”
“Stupid angel,” Dean sighed. Sam poured shots out in both glasses and held it out a glass to him. Dean grabbed it and held it up. “To the fact that I’m not going to remember this tomorrow.”
“Cheers.”
Dean drank down the alcohol and stood up. Or at least he tried. He got to his feet on his third try. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Let’s go,” Sam agreed.
“But the bill.”
“I already paid it.” Sam dropped three fifties on the table before they left. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the motel.” He reached for his brother’s arm, but Dean took a swing at him.
“Don’t touch me. I can walk by myself.”
“I know, Dean.”
Sam had to give his brother credit. Every time he did this, no matter how drunk Dean was, he always made it back to the motel on his own power; even if he had to crawl the last few feet. Sam always stayed a few feet behind him, pushing his brother in the right direction when he veered too far one way or another.
After seventeen minutes, when the walk should have taken only ten at the most, they made it back to the motel.
“Okay, sit,” Sam said, depositing his brother on the edge of his bed. He had to keep a hand on his shoulder so he didn’t lean to one side or fall forward. “Dean, five seconds and you can pass out.”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Five seconds.”
“Why?” Dean tried to growl, but instead sounding more like a baby.
“You aren’t falling asleep in your jacket. That isn’t comfortable.”
Dean pulled at the sleeves of his jacket, trying to yank it off. He struggled with it though. Thankfully, Sam helped him instead of laughed.
As soon as he was down to his shirt and boxers, he lied down. “‘Night.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” Sam said with a laugh. His brother was about to sleep, but not just yet. If that pattern repeated itself, and Dean was a man of routine, Dean needed to go through one more emotional moment.
“Sam,” Dean groaned.
“Yes, Dean?” he replied. He took a seat at the table, and opened his laptop.
“I miss him,” he whispered.
“I know, Dean.” It was hard for him to ignore how much his brother cared about Castiel.
“Don’t tell him I said this.”
“I never do.”
One day, Dean was going to say something that meaningful to Castiel. Hopefully without the help of alcohol. One day, his brother was going to get his head out of his ass. This was not the day. But Sam hoped it would come soon.
“Good talk, Sam.”
“Good night, Dean.”
Dean could only groan as a reply. He rolled over and settled into his bed.
Sam walked over and turned off the lamp that gave light to that side of the room when he heard the echoes of Dean’s soft snores. “Until your next chick flick moment,” he said.
He walked over back to the table and took a seat. The night was early enough. He smiled knowing he was going to get a lot of work done. But he had to do something first.
“Cas,” he whispered.
Wings flapping echoed in the room. “Yes?” Castiel whispered, appearing in the room. He looked around and saw Dean sleeping on his bed.
“You know he only acts that way because he cares about you.” Maybe even loved him.
Castiel sighed, his whole body looking tired and ready to just collapse. “I know. I should—”
“If you aren’t needed anywhere. Stay,” Sam replied. “You look like you could use a break.”
“I’m not needed anywhere,” Castiel said.
“I don’t know if you sleep or not, but if you want to just lie down and close your eyes, you are more than welcome to.”
Castiel stripped off his trenchcoat and suit jacket. He laid them over the back of the empty chair in the room. He stood between the two beds, contemplating which one to lie down in. He chose to lie down on the empty side of Dean’s bed.
Sam smiled, watching it all happen. His smile grew when he watched his brother roll over and throw his arm over Castiel’s torso and pulled him against his body.
Once everyone was settled, he started again on his work. But not without the knowledge that he was awesome.
