Fic: A Profound Change
Title: A Profound Change
Word count: 940
Spoilers: Some time after 7x21
Rating: PG
Summary: As Sam tries to get Cas settled, Dean takes off on a hunt. When he gets back, things are...different.
When Sam decides that they should squat in an abandoned house for a while to help Castiel regain his bearings, Dean finds a hunt a convenient eight hours away and takes off.
It's a simple salt-and-burn. It takes about a day, total, not including the commute. Dean stays for ten days.
His brother and Cas already changed so much. He didn't expect them to be even more different when he returned. He should have.
~~~~~~
It's like Dean just ran to the grocery store. Sam and Cas barely even acknowledge he was gone. They're both cordial (Castiel, abnormally so, but the concept of 'abnormal' is lost to him). And they're both so quiet, so domestic. They're playing Dominoes when Dean walks in, for Christ's sake.
But Dean doesn't think much of it. He thinks Sam's setting up a little mental-home-away-from-home for Cas, which is more or less what he said he'd do. At night, Castiel goes up to a bedroom to rest (not sleep, because he's still an angel). Dean and Sam sit in the living room, having short bursts of quips and conversation followed by long periods of silence where Sam reads a newspaper and Dean reads a car magazine. Dean wonders if it is domesticity, or strained awkwardness.
Then Castiel comes down, barefoot, in a white shirt and what Dean hopes isn't his hospital pants. Either way, he looks like a little kid, despite being a millenia-old celestial being inhabiting a thirty-something year-old man.
"S'matter, Cas?" Sam asks, lowering his paper.
"Can't rest."
"Do you, um, do you want me to..." Sam knows how to finish the sentence, he just doesn't know if he should. "Should I read to you?"
"No," Castiel says, sleepily. He walks over to Sam, lounging in the big chair, and fixes himself on Sam's lap like it's routine (and for all Dean knows, it is). "I just want to hear your heartbeat. Know you're alive and strong."
Sam avoids Dean's gaze, watching as Castiel rests his head against Sam's chest. Cas tucks his knees up to his chest and rests his hands between his knees and chin. Sam watches, stunned. Dean gets the feeling it's not because Cas hasn't done this before. It's because he's never done it before with Dean in the room.
Sam gives up trying to be stunned or flabbergasted or whatever he was going for. He wraps his arms around Castiel. His gaze softens as he stares at the peaceful angel.
Dean leaves, unnoticed.
~~~~~
Dean throws the previous night aside. It was a gaffe. He wakes up to the smell of bacon and decides that today is going to be a better day.
He follows the smell of bacon to the kitchen, the sound of Sam's voice soon joining the smell.
"Mix 'em good, OK? You gotta break the yolk and--hi, Dean," Sam says, "we're making French toast."
Castiel looks up from his little mixing bowl and waves. Dean gets a weird Kramer vs. Kramer moment, like if Meryl Streep walked in on Dustin Hoffman and the kid's French toast-making moment.
"I never had French toast before but I've mixed eggs," Castiel announces.
"Cool. Um, is there anything I can do?" Dean asks.
"No," they both say at the same time. While Sam looks stricken, Castiel looks pleased that he and Sam shared something.
"Just sit down. Breakfast'll be ready soon," Sam pulls the chair out for Dean to sit, and Dean does.
"Pancakes," Castiel says, "I mixed eggs for pancakes."
"Yep. And I think they're good enough now for the French toast."
Sam takes out more bread and adds it to the plate of slices they'd already prepared.
~~~~~
A few days later, Dean is sitting in the kitchen, eating. Sam is in the living room, reading, and Castiel is outside. Dean tears off bits of his sandwich, absently eating.
"We need more turkey," he calls to Sam.
"You have the car," Sam calls back.
It's almost normal.
Then, there's a gust of wind blowing past Dean, the clomping of shoes running by him so fast that Dean has to follow it into the living room.
"O-outside," Castiel is clammering excitedly, tugging Sam's hand, "there's a bird!"
There's no urgency, just sheer excitement. If a puppy could talk and report its findings to its owner, it's what Cas would sound like.
"Must be some bird," Sam stands, chuckling to himself.
"It is a bird," Castiel confirms, dragging Sam out the back door. Dean lags behind. From a distance, he watches Castiel point at the little sparrow. Then he runs up to it, kneels down, and lets it hop on his finger. He runs back to Sam, eyes wide, and presents the bird to Sam.
"That's quite a bird, Cas," Sam says, extending his finger to the sparrow. Instantly, the bird flies away. "Oh! Sorry."
"It's OK. It wanted to fly and it did. That's great!" Castiel and Sam watch the bird, and once it's almost out of sight, Castiel wraps his arms around Sam in a huge, exaggerated embrace.
And it barely takes Sam a second to respond, putting his arms around Castiel's shoulders.
Dean and I do share a more profound bond.
The words come into Dean's mind and then disappear.
~~~~
"So, what is it, then, you and Cas? All the hugs and the cookies and rainbows?" Dean demands. He and Sam can't go back to normal until they address this-whatever-this-is. Cas is outside doing whatever psycho angels do. Birdwatching. Beechasing.
Sam sighs. "He needs love, Dean."
"Love. Yeah. Did he need love when he betrayed us and worked with a demon? Did he need it when he broke your wall?"
Sam gives Dean one of his patented "you're-an-idiot" looks. This one is strikingly, hatefully, pityingly genuine.
"That's exactly when he needed it."
~~~~
Dean finds another hunt, this time a more convenient twelve hours away. He lies awake on the scratchy motel bed. He remembers when, seven years ago, he broke into Sam's place to retrieve him.
He won't be doing that again this time. It won't be Sam's girlfriend who will wind up burnt to a crisp if he tries to take Sam away.
It will be him.