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“You mind if we stop off somewhere?” Dean says. “I need to pick up some peanut butter.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his brother look at him from the passenger seat, but Dean stubbornly keeps his eyes on the road. It’s not like he doesn’t know what Sam’s thinking. It’s just that neither of them have said it out loud. In fact, no one has said it out loud. The post-apocalyptic elephant in Bobby’s front room is that Dean is… slightly more involved with Castiel than he used to be.
It’s been two months now since Castiel literally fell for Dean. Two months since he surrendered his place in Heaven and became mortal so that he could keep his promise to stay with Dean until the end. It blew Dean’s mind to think that this celestial being would sacrifice so much for his sake. He realised that Cas knew what he was doing and that Dean was in no position to question his motives, but… that didn’t take away the guilt. And it didn’t stop the fear that somewhere along the line, he was going to let Castiel down, and the former angel would live to regret his decision.
He’s not going to kid himself that the others haven’t guessed what’s going on. Okay, so he and Cas have separate rooms at Bobby’s, but the others have to realize that Dean’s bed is never slept in. And the way he and Cas are around each other, even if they don’t mean to be… it’s gotta be obvious. Yet no one has said anything, and Dean has been more than happy to keep his new relationship quiet. It’s not just that he wants to avoid the whole ‘hey, guys, gay now!’ speech, it’s that… it’s that there’s no real way of explaining it properly, what he and Cas are to each other. Dean doesn’t know if there are words for it. How could he explain to Bobby and Sam what he and his angel - because that’s how he still thinks of Castiel and always will - have been through together? And it’s not just that they’re sleeping together, either. ‘Making love’ as Cas always calls it - Dean would never use that phrase. Cas has the habit of talking extremely earnestly about sex. And Dean feels kind of embarrassed, because he gets it, he finally gets it, but until now sex had just been fun. But it is more than that now, and they are more than that, and he doesn’t think he’s smart enough to convey the magnitude of what’s happened to him in a way that the rest of his family will understand.
“There’s a twenty-four-hour place next to the gas station,” Sam says. “You’ll be able to get it there.”
“Right…”
That’s the other thing. Sam is back. He’s come back from Hell, and Dean still isn’t entirely sure what’s going on there, aside from the fact that it has something to do with God and the angels again. He’s not complaining. Sam is back and in one piece, and he’s not Lucifer’s vessel any more. All he seems to want to do is get back to his old life; he’s not talking about what happened. Not that Dean had been Mr Communication after his sojourn in the pit, but it’s still nagging at him. He feels like he should have tried harder somehow. Sam should never have had to go through what Dean went through. It had been Dean’s job to protect him, and he’d failed. It didn’t matter how many times Cas told him that he couldn’t have done anything, that it had been Sam’s choice and that he was an adult. Dean was the big brother.
“You want anything?” he asks as he pulls up outside the superstore.
“No. Oh, unless they have Skittles.”
“Oh, Sammy,” Dean says, getting out of the car. “You’re still that chubby twelve-year-old at heart.”
And it’s nice, he thinks. Yeah, so they’ve gone through too much together for it to ever go back to the way things were, but maybe that’s okay. He feels like they’ve reached some kind of unspoken understanding now, that they can be brothers again. Dean hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed it.
Cas likes crunchy peanut butter - Dean wouldn’t dare forget that one again. Thankfully, the store has plenty, and Dean picks up a couple of jars, along with Sam’s candy and a six-pack of beer. The tired looking guy at the checkout looks at him funny, and Dean figures that it is a bit of a weird shopping list. Still, he has a bit of a weird family.
They’re pretty much based at Bobby’s now. It’s… nice. Like having a real home again. He’s pretty sure that Bobby’s happy about it as well.
Dean winces as he picks up the groceries; he thinks he’s cracked a rib again. He and Sam have spent the last few days in Houston dealing with the vengeful spirit of a murdered cop. It hadn’t been that big of a deal compared to the things they were used to fighting. After the apocalypse, things have been pretty quiet. Dean suspects that it won’t last, but it’s certainly nice while it does. Just having to deal with the occasional case is exactly what he needs when he’s trying to put his family back together, as well as trying to figure out how to be in an actual relationship. With a former angel.
Speaking of the former angel, Dean has a horrible suspicion that Cas is still less than happy with him. Hence the peanut butter. Castiel has developed a bit of a habit where that stuff’s concerned. Dean has watched him eat whole jars with a spoon, and has tried and failed not to find it endearing. He really likes kissing Cas afterwards; he tastes so good, and the peanut butter always makes him happy so that he’ll- But he’s not going to think about that right now, because he always gets this stupid grin on his face, and Sam always looks at him like he knows exactly what Dean’s thinking.
He gets back into the car and passes the supplies over to Sam.
“Did you get the-”
“Yes. You know, Sam, you should try to curb that sweet tooth of yours. You’re gonna get cavities.”
“Bite me,” Sam replies through a mouth of Skittles.
The Impala shuddered back to life, and they pull out of the parking lot. They’ll be at Bobby’s in five minutes, and Dean’s feeling kind of nervous about it. This is the first proper fight he and Cas have had since Cas became human, and while they may have fought plenty of times in the past, it feels… different now. They are different now. Fighting now has consequences.
~*~
Dean opens the door to Castiel’s room very cautiously, knowing instinctively that he was still very much In Trouble. He can practically feel the tension in the air before he even looks at Cas, and damn, the guy might not be able to deal out angelic smitings anymore, but he can still be pretty scary when he wants to be. Not that Dean is ever admitting to that out loud.
Castiel is sitting in bed wearing those striped blue pyjamas he’d insisted on buying despite Dean’s protests that Cas wouldn’t be wearing them much if he had anything to do with it. He’s reading a weird book about existentialism or something that Sam lent him last week, and he is very determinedly not looking at Dean.
Dean clears his throat awkwardly and drops his bag down in the corner of the room. “Hey.”
Cas is still staring at the goddamn book, even though he’s obviously not reading now. “You didn’t get yourself killed then,” he says, his voice tight.
“You sound disappointed.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Dean.” Castiel slams the book shut and glares at him, and Dean thinks he might have preferred it when he was being given the cold shoulder.
“Look, I know you’re still mad about-”
“Did you expect anything less? This isn’t what I came back for, Dean!”
“I know, but-”
“I didn’t give up everything just so you could leave me behind to go off hunting with Sam, not even bothering to acknowledge my feelings on the subject. Did you honestly think I’d be content to just let you put yourself in danger alone while I just sit at home waiting for you? You used to treat me with more respect than that. I used to be a part of your life, and now I’m… Well, what am I now, Dean?”
“Cas, you’re still a part of-”
“I won’t tolerate you telling me what to do, Dean, I-”
“Dude! Could you let me finish a sentence?”
Castiel narrows his eyes. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
A very tense silence follows. Dean can hear Sam and Bobby talking downstairs, and part of him feels wistful for simpler days when he could just join them in a beer and discuss what had happened on the hunt. Dean is realizing it later than most people, but relationships are hard work. He pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting tiredness, trying to find a way of saying what he wants in a way that Castiel will understand. “I’m so sorry,” he says finally. “I suck at this.”
Castiel sighs and looks away. “Just… just talk to me, Dean.”
“Right. Talking. That’s… that’s what I’m best at.”
“Dean.”
“I’m scared for you, Cas,” Dean says, the words coming out in a rush. “I’m not… I do realize what you’ve given up for me, and I’m scared that something’s gonna happen to you, and you’ll regret your decision and you’ll end up hating me because I’m the one who-”
“Dean, we’ve been through all this! I told you that I’d thought this through and I was perfectly aware of what I was doing. If you want me to tell you that I don’t miss being an angel, that I don’t miss my wings and my grace and my ability to be involved in numerous explosions without so much as singeing my eyebrows then, well, I can’t. I’m not going to lie to you, not even if it would make you feel better. Of course I miss it. But when I… when I compare it to the way I missed you… I know I made the right choice. But you can’t protect me from life, Dean. You can’t. I came back to be with you, like… like I used to be.”
Dean sits down on the bed across from him, sensing it’s now safe to approach, and he winces slightly as the movement sends a spike of pain to his injured ribs.
“You’re hurt.” Castiel frowns, moving to close the distance between them.
“S’nothing.”
“Show me.”
“Really, it’s-”
Castiel ignores him, batting Dean’s hand away and lifting up his t-shirt, his frown deepening as he sees the angry purple bruise on Dean’s chest.
“Bossy,” Dean mutters.
“I bet you haven’t been to the hospital, have you?”
“I’ll go in the morning, I promise. I just… I just wanted to get home. Cas, I…” Dean’s not even sure what he’s trying to say, but he’s desperate for Castiel to stop looking at him like that with so much hurt in his eyes. He swallows. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “You might as well say that you don’t want me to be alive. Bad things happen; it’s inevitable. You can’t control it, and you can’t protect people from pain indefinitely. We’ve been over this. Besides, I thought I had established my role in all of this. You have been the protector long enough - it’s my job to keep you safe.”
“Oh, Cas, I… I can’t let you just-”
“You’re right. You can’t let me do anything. I am my own master.”
Dean sighs impatiently. “Damn it, do you have to be so-”
“Yes, because you’re not listening.”
“Cas, do you… do you remember last year? When I was treated to a preview of our future, and…”
“I recall.”
“Well, you were… you were broken, Cas. You were human, and it had made you so bitter and hopeless and… and it kills me to think of you like that. I can’t let that happen to you. And I… I know you thought this through, and it was your choice and I have no right to tell you what to do, but I’m just scared that if the world has its way with you, you’ll become… like that, and it’d kill me because it’d be my fault, and…”
Dean is silenced by Castiel pressing a hand over his mouth. “You don’t really think that would happen, do you? Dean, you know that they were false visions. It was just propaganda used to manipulate you into saying yes to Michael, nothing more.”
“Bmf ngg..” Dean pulls Castiel’s hand away. “But it could happen,” he says as soon as he’s able to talk again.
“Yes, but look at the things that didn’t happen. Lucifer didn’t win. Sam said yes, but he also defeated him. Lucifer is vanquished, and I chose a mortal life. Dean.” Castiel catches hold of Dean’s chin, forcing the hunter to meet his eye. “Dean, in your vision of the future, did you… how did the future version of yourself feel about me?”
Dean lowers his gaze. “I sent you on a suicide mission, Cas. I let you die. I… I didn’t care about anything except the fucking war.” He’s never told Castiel that part before, and he isn’t surprised when the other man lowers his hand.
When he looks up, however, the look on Castiel’s face is close to amusement. “Dean, have you really been upset about that all this time? About a nightmare scenario created purely for the purpose of scaring you into doing the bidding of Michael?”
“You know I’d never let it happen, Cas,” Dean says urgently.
Castiel looks up at him, confused. “Then why do you let it affect you?”
“Because I…” Dean breaks off, frustrated. “You know it’s annoying when you use logic against me, don’t you?”
Cas grins. “I am aware.”
“Cas, I-”
“I know.”
Dean leans in a little, and Castiel doesn’t pull away.
Dean knows he can’t keep compensating for screwing up through sex. It’s like a safety net, something he always falls back on when everything else gets too difficult. This he can do.
Castiel kisses him back, which is always encouraging. Dean wishes that everything could be as uncomplicated as this. He just hopes that it will be enough to make up for everything that’s wrong with him.
He moves in closer, pushing Castiel back onto the pillows, his fingers fumbling at the buttons of those damn pyjamas. He tries to pull Cas towards him, but a hot spike of pain in his ribs causes him to draw in a sharp breath.
“Dean,” Castiel says quietly, “it’s all right. You don’t have to.”
“I’m fine, I just…”
“You’re exhausted. Dean.” He catches hold of Dean’s hand which was still stubbornly trying to remove the pyjamas. “Stop. Just… just come here. Come here.” He pulls Dean into his arms. This has quickly become Dean’s safe place, his head resting on Castiel’s shoulder, listening to his heart beating. It reminds him of an innocence he can barely recall. He allows himself to relax into Castiel’s embrace, knowing he doesn’t have to fight anymore.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven then?” he says.
Castiel sighs. “We will discuss it further in the morning.”
Dean huffs a laugh. He should have known he wouldn’t get off that easily.
Castiel traces patterns in his hair, picking up his book to continue reading as Dean is slowly soothed to sleep.
~*~
The next morning, Dean finds his brother outside in the yard, drinking a mug of coffee. Sam doesn’t see him at first, providing an opportunity for Dean to watch him. He’s been doing this a lot lately: looking at Sam closely, trying to detect changes, find clues, as to what’s going on in his brother’s head. He knows Sam better than anyone else. If something had changed, Dean would know. And he can’t stand the thought of his brother being in pain without Dean knowing about it. After everything that’s happened, Dean still sees it as his duty to carry whatever burden the Winchesters have to bear.
Eventually Sam looks up, squinting as the early morning sun hits his eyes. “Hey.”
Dean immediately puts on a smile. “Hey.” The guards are up again - he’s back to pretending that everything’s normal. He goes to stand next to his brother, leaning against a rusty old pickup truck that Bobby’s taking apart for scrap. “So I’m with Cas,” Dean says suddenly.
His brother looks at him in surprise, but Dean is determined not to meet his gaze. He’s suddenly feeling very hot; he sure as hell hadn’t planned this.
“I know,” Sam says eventually, and Dean can hear the amusement in his voice.
“I know you know.”
“Well… thanks for telling me.”
Dean clears his throat, wishing that he didn’t find this so damn embarrassing.
“He’s good for you. You’ve been… I dunno. Calmer.”
Dean scowls. This had better not be turning into a talk about feelings. “I just wanted to be honest with you. And… and I wanna do right by him. He deserves to be… I don’t want him to think I’m… ashamed. Because I’m not. And I want you and… and Bobby to know that…”
“I know,” Sam says quietly. “Cas is family now.”
Dean is grateful that he doesn’t have to talk any more.
“Dude,” Sam says after a couple of minutes of silence. “Our lives are so fucking weird.”
Dean huffs a laugh. “But they’re ours.” He risks a glance at his brother finally, and Sam is smiling. Dean’s not going to allow himself to feel hopeful at the sight. He learnt a long time ago that thinking that things would turn out okay was just asking for trouble. Even so, he can feel something inside him relax a little. He draws a deep breath, and walks back towards the house, hoping that his being honest to Sam might incline the younger man to finally talk about what happened to him in the pit. Whatever his brother’s going through, Dean is not going to let him do it alone.
Castiel is in the kitchen, and he’s found the peanut butter Dean bought last night. He hasn’t even bothered with a spoon this time: Dean walks in to see the former angel of the Lord licking the stuff off his fingers before realizing that he’s not alone. Castiel hurriedly puts the jar down, and Dean pretends not to have noticed, busying himself with the coffee jar to hide his amusement.
“Have you called the hospital?”
“Not yet. I’ll drive myself over after breakfast. It’s really not that serious,” he adds, noting Cas’s disapproving look. “I told Sam,” he says quietly. “About… us.”
Castiel looks up at him sharply, and Dean is afraid for a moment that he’s done the wrong thing. But then Cas’s eyes grow soft and he smiles slowly. “I was afraid that you didn’t want to.”
Dean is about to say something ridiculously romantic, but stops himself just in time. “I just… you know… thought it might make things easier. You know, no more sneaking around, pretending we have separate rooms…” He can’t quite look at Cas right now, but he can sense his amusement.
“I was… it’s difficult adjusting. There are certain… I suppose I would have to call them weaknesses that I have experienced since becoming mortal.” He grimaced. “I never had doubts before. There have been times when I… when I doubted whether…”
Dean sits down beside him. “I’m sorry.”
Cas shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re in this together now.”
He isn’t entirely sure what Cas means by that, but he’s smiling, and it makes Dean smile too. Then it makes him do something he’s never done before. He grabs Castiel by the collar of those stupid blue striped pyjamas and kisses him, right there in the kitchen.
Dean can feel his heart racing, hardly believing that he’s got up the courage to do this. Sam was right: a life where beheading a vampire is all in a day’s work, but kissing the person you love in the kitchen is the height of daring is definitely weird. But, he concedes, as Castiel gently bites his lower lip, it’s his. And for the first time, Dean couldn’t be happier about it.