Fic-The Pursuit of Happiness
Title: The Pursuit of Happiness
Author: Pyjamagurl
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8287
Warnings: Based post-S6, future!fic, angst, schmoop
Spoilers: Blanket S6 spoilers but nothing hugely specific.
Summary: Dean and Sam retire from the hunting lifestyle after the events of the past year. Dean stays at Bobby’s and works on cars which makes Sam think that he isn’t moving on. And then Castiel starts showing up more often…
Author notes: There was no prompt given, but hopefully this will work! Huge thank you to my beta flying_monkeys! Written for silver_lametta at deancas_xmas
It’s been three weeks since Dean “Officially Quit”. He means it this time. He isn’t hunting no matter how intriguing something may sound. He’s done with the world seemingly revolving around him and Sam, and he’s going to spend what’s left of his life…
He doesn’t know what he is going to do with the rest of his life, admittedly. For the first time in his life he doesn’t have to do anything. He doesn’t have to follow dad’s instructions, Sam doesn’t need saving, he isn’t looking for some way to avoid going to hell, he doesn’t need to save the world by tidying up the mess he made by breaking the first seal, he isn’t the vessel for an archangel and he doesn’t need Lisa to fill a void she never quite managed to anyway.
For now he is perfectly content sitting on Bobby’s porch as the sun goes down, drinking beer and relishing in the silence that surrounds him. It’s peaceful.
Dean has half-forgotten what peaceful feels like.
When the sun is hiding just below the horizon and the sky turns the most breathtaking shades of blue, Dean’s thoughts turn to Castiel. He hasn’t seen him since it all ended. Sam got his soul back, Raphael’s plans were scuppered, Crowley was stopped before he found Purgatory, the Alpha’s never got their war and Castiel disappeared.
It’s been three weeks.
Dean went a whole year without seeing him, but somehow it hurts more now. It had been easier when he had been running away, when he’d lived the life of domesticity because it was what Sam wanted. It’s difficult now. It’s difficult now that Cas has been back and he hasn’t been quite the same angel Dean remembers.
It has taken Dean until now to realise that he misses him. He won’t admit it to a soul though. The words “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone” have never rung so true with him before.
Dean lets out a sigh and tosses his empty beer bottle as far as he can. He listens to it smash somewhere in the distance, glass tinkling on the gravel where it lands.
‘Hey.’
Dean jumps and looks guiltily over his shoulder. Sam gives him one of those sheepish little brother smiles that Dean has missed and gratefully takes the beer that Sam holds out for him.
‘Thanks,’ Dean says, sitting down on one of the wooden porch chairs. Sam lowers himself into the chair next to him, stretching his long legs out so his feet dangle off the edge of the porch.
‘So…’ Sam says.
‘So?’
‘What’s the plan?’
‘No plan,’ Dean says, closing his eyes and dropping his head back until it hits the top of the chair.
‘You’re just going to hide out here for the rest of your days?’ Sam asks incredulously.
‘For the foreseeable future,’ Dean says.
‘Bobby might not like that,’ Sam says. Dean can hear the smirk in his voice and gives a snort. He knows that Bobby is probably grateful to have the Winchesters hanging around without some supernatural aide being required of him.
‘I’m going back to school,’ Sam says and Dean cracks open an eye, tilts his head to look at his brother. ‘Not until September…but I figure if we’re not hunting I should do something.’
‘So you’re going back to Stanford?’
Sam lets out a snort this time and shakes his head. ‘I think I’ve got a reputation that would be impossible to hide from the judicial system, don’t you?’
Dean gives a lazy one-shouldered shrug. ‘Fake ID?’
‘Nah…I’m not leaving you behind this time,’ Sam says, nudging Dean’s foot with one of his own. Dean doesn’t miss the note of reassurance in Sam’s voice. He’s quietly glad that Sam won’t be abandoning him. He’s only just got him back.
‘Bitch.’
‘Jerk,’ Sam smirks and takes a long gulp of his beer.
* * *
Two weeks later Dean is back on the road. He still isn’t hunting monsters though. He tells Sam to pack a bag and the next day they are driving to the Grand Canyon. He has always wanted to go and never got the chance. It’s one of those do-before-you-die things, and Dean thinks he’s died plenty; he’s earned the reward of seeing the Grand Canyon.
Sam doesn’t stop him. Sam had actually looked glad for some kind of reprieve from picking between universities near Bobby’s and writing applications. Sam looks happy to be back in the Impala and doesn’t even gripe about Dean’s choice of music for the first twelve hours.
It feels like they are finally home. But Dean still feels like something is missing.
* * *
The Grand Canyon is everything he thought it would be. It’s definitely one of those “once in a lifetime” places. It reminds Dean that he is an insignificant pinprick. He probably shouldn’t find as much satisfaction in that as he does.
Sam takes a million pictures and Dean is pretty sure he isn’t exaggerating. Dean winds him up for it just to take his mind off the fact that even though he is finally realising a lifelong dream, it feels empty.
He wishes Cas were here.
* * *
That night they crash at a motel. Sam is sound asleep almost as soon as his big lanky frame flops down on one of the beds. For Dean it isn’t so easy. He helps himself to a glass of whiskey and thinks about the last time he saw Castiel.
Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Perhaps Dean expected a fanfare or something. We saved the world; confetti! It’s a parade! But there’s nothing. There aren’t even any smiles.
There’s him and there’s Cas. Everyone else is suspiciously absent.
Castiel is holding himself stiffly; bracing himself for a conversation they both know is going to be awkward. A conversation neither of them want to have because Dean Winchester doesn’t open up and Castiel doesn’t know how to unless he’s falling apart.
‘Dean…’
Dean jolts when Castiel’s hand comes to rest over his own. He should pull his hand out of Cas’ grasp but he can’t. He looks up into blue, blue eyes and knows that the world is never going to be the same.
‘I’m giving up,’ Dean says quietly, letting out a breath he had barely been aware of holding. Cas tilts his head in a way that is achingly familiar. ‘This… everything. I’m done.’
Castiel nods and drops his gaze. Dean follows his eyes down to their hands. Castiel’s thumb is rubbing in circles over the knuckle of Dean’s. All Dean can hear is the too hard, too fast, thudthudthud of his own heartbeat.
‘I…’ Dean starts.
‘I should go,’ Castiel says. Their eyes raise and hold once more. Dean’s jaw clenches but he nods stiffly. Cas opens his mouth to say something else.
‘Don’t,’ Dean says, shaking his head. ‘Don’t say goodbye.’
‘It’s never goodbye,’ Castiel says and Dean closes his eyes. He hears the shift of Cas’ trench coat, feels Cas linger for just a moment longer. There’s an intake of breath and an unuttered sentence hangs in the air between them.
When Dean opens his eyes he’s alone.
Dean wakes up sore. He’s sitting in one of the motel’s chairs, the empty glass is slack in his hand and his head hurts. His whole body hurts. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in chairs. He puts the glass back on the table and starts to get up.
Muscles protest, his knee pops with a satisfying crack that hurts like hell but does him good nonetheless. He takes two steps towards the bed before he stops in his tracks.
‘Dean.’
‘Cas,’ Dean’s breath leaves him all in one go and he crosses the space between them in a matter of seconds.
He has his arms around Cas and his face buried in his neck before he even thinks about what he is doing. Cas lets out a soft ‘oof!’ as Dean collides with him and after an awkward minute of not knowing what to do with his hands, he settles for resting them on Dean’s back, holding him as tightly as he thinks he’s allowed.
‘I missed you,’ Dean says, and he hates how honest and vulnerable that sounds. But it’s out there now.
‘I missed you too,’ Cas replies quietly, his voice lower and more gravelly than Dean had committed to memory. It stirs something uneasy, familiar and thrilling all at once, low in the pit of Dean’s stomach.
Dean pulls back from the embrace, feeling his cheeks heat up. Now that he thinks about it, it’s all rather ridiculous; hugging Castiel without a moment’s thought. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Sam is still sleeping then takes a hold of Castiel by the wrist.
‘Outside,’ Dean says and leads the angel from the room.
He doesn’t stop until they are at the Impala. He double checks Cas is still there while he gets two beers from the cooler in the trunk, but he’s still standing awkwardly by the front fender when Dean returns. Dean pushes himself up onto the hood then holds a beer out for Castiel. Cas hesitates before he takes it, but then unscrews the cap and gently leans his backside against the car.
‘You can do better than that,’ Dean says, grabbing Castiel by the collar of his shirt and yanking him backwards. Cas pulls a face as Dean jerks him, but takes the hint and pushes himself up so he’s level with Dean. He looks at Dean like he’s expecting some kind of reprimand for putting his feet on the Impala, but it doesn’t come.
‘Did you like the Grand Canyon?’ Cas asks, watching Dean as he takes a deep gulp of beer.
‘It was amazing,’ Dean says. ‘Just the kind of thing I needed to remind myself how small and insignificant I truly am.’
‘You’re not insignificant,’ Castiel says just a little too quickly. Dean looks at him, it takes him a moment to find a reply.
‘Sometimes I’d like to be.’
‘Why?’
Dean shrugs loosely. ‘Get sick of everything being after us all the time.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t you find life easier without a price on your head?’ Dean asks. It’s his turn to watch as Castiel takes a deep swallow of his beer, his eyes lingering on the slow movement of Cas’ throat. He’s still staring when Cas drops the bottle back to his lap.
‘Different, I suppose,’ Castiel says. ‘I guess it is somewhat easier.’
‘But?’
‘But … something’s missing,’ Cas says, blue eyes meeting green. ‘Everything’s the way it should be and yet … something is missing.’
‘Yeah,’ Dean says quietly. He looks away, looking up at the clear night sky instead, but he can feel Cas still looking at him. He knows Cas wants to say something else. It never comes; another thing between them left unspoken.
Castiel bumps against Dean’s shoulder when he moves his arm to take another drink of his beer. It’s the middle of summer, they aren’t that far away from the desert, but Dean feels a shiver nonetheless.
* * *
The next time Dean wakes up he’s lying belly down on the bed and isn’t wholly sure that he didn’t just dream that Cas had been there. Once he and Sam head out though there are four beer bottles lying near the Impala and Dean knows it wasn’t. Sam looks at the bottles then Dean, raising a questioning eyebrow, before he slinks into the passenger side.
‘Cas stopped by?’ Sam asks once Dean settles into the driver’s seat beside him.
Dean grunts noncommittally and starts up the car.
‘You’re an idiot,’ Sam tells him. Dean doesn’t bother asking why.
* * *
The drive back is much quieter. Dean doesn’t bother with music because Sam has grumped so many times. There’s a horrible heavy silence between them that neither of them is willing to puncture and when they finally get back to Bobby’s Dean storms off to the room he’d claimed as his and, rather like he had as a teenager, slams the door.
He doesn’t hear from Bobby or Sam all day. When he finally ventures downstairs (his stomach finally won out) he knows that they have been talking about him because all goes deathly quiet as soon as Dean sets foot in the kitchen.
‘There’s some chilli left in the pot,’ Bobby tells him. Dean can feel Bobby’s eyes on him as he crosses the room and helps himself to the last of the chilli-it’s a pretty big plateful, but Dean is ravenous.
‘All right, what is it?’ Dean demands as he puts his plate down on the table and takes the seat between Bobby and Sam.
‘Nothing,’ Sam says, brow furrowing in annoyance. Dean knows he wants to say something but knows it isn’t his place.
‘How’d you like the Canyon?’
‘It was great,’ Dean says before shovelling a forkful of chilli into his mouth.
‘Heard you got a visit from Cas,’ Bobby says and Dean chokes. He glares at Sam, a silent reprimand for talking to Bobby when he couldn’t talk to Dean. Bobby never shies away from the difficult where Dean is concerned. If it needs saying, he’ll say it.
‘Uhm, yeah,’ Dean manages once he has finished spluttering. He rolls his shoulders but knows he isn’t pulling off cool, calm and collected as well as he would like. ‘He stopped by.’
‘And?’ Bobby asks.
‘And what?’
‘Did he talk you back into hunting?’
‘No, he knows I quit,’ Dean says. ‘Are you telling me you want me to hunt?’
‘No, ya idjit,’ Bobby says. ‘We’re just worried is all.’
Dean flicks a look at Sam, who deliberately drops his gaze to his plate and pushes what’s left of his chilli around his plate. Dean sighs and drops his fork down with a clatter.
‘Look, I’m fine,’ Dean says, looking from Sam to Bobby and back again. ‘So I don’t know what I want to do, I’ll be fine. I’m not going to go drink myself into a stupor or try and kill myself. I’m fine.’
‘You’re fine?’ Sam repeats, finally looking up at Dean. He doesn’t look like he believes Dean for a second, but after a minute he nods and returns his attention back to his plate.
‘Good,’ Bobby says, looking between the two Winchesters. ‘Now the two of you have got that sorted out, you can clean up the dishes once you’re done. I’m going to watch Deadliest Catch.’
Dean pushes his plate away from him; he isn’t as hungry as he first thought.
* * *
Dean starts spending all his free time in Bobby’s scrap yard. In two weeks he has what was nearly the shell of a ’69 Firebird fixed up to the same loving tender care of the Impala. He admires his work for five minutes then he moves on.
He knows that Sam is worried about him but won’t say anything. He has caught the looks-they are horribly similar to the ones Sam used to give him back when Dean gave up looking for ways out of his deal with the crossroads demon-and he knows that Sam is just waiting for the right time to spring a conversation he doesn’t particularly want to have.
Dean avoids him. The first conversation had been awkward enough. He doesn’t need numerous conversations about him “finding his purpose” or whatever it is Sam is itching to say. Dean doesn’t need much to keep him happy; he doesn’t need to have a goal to work towards to feel fulfilled.
He’s happy pottering about in the yard, fiddling with the insides of cars and making them run like they are brand new once again. He’s happy outside in the peace and quiet without anyone asking for something or needing saving. He’s happy on his own.
And if he keeps telling himself that, he might really start believing it.
* * *
The next time Cas shows up it is a few weeks before Sam is due to start at the University of Minnesota. Really, Dean should have been expecting it. Sam had been unusually quiet for days, hadn’t given Dean one of those looks he is starting to hate.
Dean is currently working on an old truck. He’s been at it for two days and it’s only now beginning to look truly salvageable. He has his head buried under the hood when he hears something behind him.
‘Hello Dean.’
Dean jumps then glowers over his shoulder. ‘Don’t do that!’ he snaps, his fingers dig into the lip of the hood. His shoulders are bunched up at his ears, he has no doubt that Cas is only here because Sam nagged at him.
‘My apologies,’ Castiel says and he’s closer now. Dean looks up to see Castiel a few feet away from him, looking at him in that soul-gazing way. He’s smiling in a fond way like he has missed being able to wind Dean up with simple things. Dean isn’t in the mood for it.
There had been a time when he would have been delighted to have seen Castiel. There has been, but that had been several months ago now and this was the first time he had seen him since. He has slowly been getting used to not having Castiel around, no matter how much he wants him to be.
There is a long, tense, silence in which Dean resolutely ignores Castiel’s presence and keeps on working while Cas leans his hip against the car and watches him. It takes until Dean botches unscrewing one of the spark plugs for the third time that he gives up and looks at Cas.
‘What?’ Dean asks more fiercely than he truly intended. Castiel’s brow furrows and he folds his arms in front of his chest defensively. Dean sighs and runs a hand over his face before he mirrors Cas’ stance; hip against the car, arms crossed.
‘Sam’s worried.’
‘I know,’ Dean replies. ‘It was only a matter of time before he called you in.’
Cas tilts his head at that and he frowns more deeply. ‘I would have come earlier if you had wanted me to.’
Dean looks up at that, eyes studying Cas’ face like he is expecting a lie to be hidden there somewhere. Castiel’s face is the same stoic visage he is all too used to though his eyes show no hint of him only placating Dean.
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Sam’s worried that you are working yourself to an early grave,’ Castiel says and Dean can’t stifle a snort at that. He catches Castiel’s small smile before he goes on. ‘You did this after your father died, buried yourself in work. Are you in mourning?’
Dean studies Castiel’s face for another moment then shakes his head. He swallows hard then drops his gaze, scratching at the back of his neck as he pushes away from the truck. He can feel Cas’ eyes on him as he turns to fiddle about with things in the toolbox.
‘Sam thinks everyone should have goals,’ Dean says with a shrug. ‘I’m just taking things as they come.’
‘There’s no harm in that,’ Castiel agrees. ‘But he says that you are filling your life with meaningless things because you think you don’t deserve what you want.’
‘Sam talks shit sometimes,’ Dean says, looking over his shoulder at Cas.
‘What is it you want that you think you can’t have?’ Castiel asks. Dean sighs, hanging his head and closing his eyes.
‘World peace.’
‘Maybe you should stop deflecting and face the truth,’ Castiel says.
When Dean turns around Castiel is gone. He looks at the spot where his friend had stood for a long moment then looks up at the sky.
‘Sometimes a “see ya later” wouldn’t hurt,’ Dean tells the sky. ‘Dick.’
* * *
Sam leaves for Minnesota the second week of August. Dean and Bobby help him pack all the things he’s sure he’ll need into the Firebird Dean had fixed up at the beginning of the summer. He promises to visit every other weekend and makes Dean swear he’ll come up too.
Sam hugs him so damn tight Dean has to smack him one to get him to let go. Dean watches the Firebird pull out of the yard and keeps staring down the road long after Sam is gone.
The world is moving on without him. It takes half a bottle of whiskey before Dean can sleep that night.
Castiel starts showing up more often. Dean isn’t sure if it’s from the way he left the last time or if Sam had asked Cas to keep an eye on him. Either way Dean doesn’t find the comfort in it he should. He knows that Castiel will just go away again. He’s done with hostility though.
Sometimes Castiel stays for five minutes, sometimes he stays for a whole afternoon. Sometimes they talk business-because even if Dean isn’t hunting, he’d quite like to know if another apocalypse is due to go down-sometimes they talk about the car Dean is fixing up. Sometimes they talk about everything and nothing, and it’s those conversations Dean likes most of all; it makes him feel like he is finally getting to know Cas after years of taking him for granted.
The week before Sam is due to visit for his mid-semester break is one of those five-minute stops.
‘I won’t be able to visit for a while,’ Cas says. Dean wipes his hand on a rag and turns to look at him, leaning his butt against the car he’d been working on.
‘Something up?’
‘Nothing drastic,’ Castiel says with a small, reassuring smile. ‘My services are required though, and I won’t be able to come whenever I feel like it.’
‘How long?’ Castiel’s jaw clenches and Dean knows he isn’t going to like the answer. Time passes differently in Heaven, if at all in some measurable way that Dean would recognise.
‘I don’t know,’ Castiel says. ‘But I’ll return as soon as I can.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Dean says. Cas stares at him for a long moment and Dean can’t look away, no matter how much he wants to.
‘I’ll see you later, Dean.’
Dean is alone again and he closes the hood of the car he’d been working on. He tosses the rag onto the toolbox and makes his way back up to the house. “See you later” really isn’t any better than “goodbye” after all.
* * *
Sam gives Dean another suffocating bear hug when he sees him the following week. Dean shakes his head and hugs his little brother back.
‘Come on, man, it hasn’t been that long,’ Dean says with a smirk as Sam pulls away from him and slings an arm around his shoulders.
‘How’s it been?’
‘Same old, y’know,’ Dean says. ‘Classes going well?’
‘Yeah, I got an A for my last assignment,’ Sam says with a grin, even as a kid he had boasted about his marks, Dean hadn’t expected it to change now Sam is twenty-nine.
‘Course you did, smartass,’ Dean says, leading them back into the house.
‘How’s Cas?’ Sam asks, removing his arm from around Dean as he pushes open the front door and heads towards the lounge. He pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder at Dean.
‘He’s fine,’ Dean says stiffly.
‘What happened?’ Sam asks, his face falls and he looks genuinely worried. Dean scowls at him.
‘Nothing happened,’ Dean says. ‘He had to leave, that’s all.’ Sam looks at Dean for a long moment then shakes his head. ‘What?’
‘You are an idiot.’
‘How?’
‘You should have asked him to stay,’ Sam says in that manner like Dean is being thick and it is the most obvious thing in the world.
‘Why would I do that?’ Dean asks, slamming the front door behind him.
‘Oy!’ comes a yell from the lounge. Dean glances at the lounge wall then back to Sam. Sam sighs and shrugs his shoulders.
‘You’ve got to figure it out for yourself, Dean,’ Sam says, heading into the lounge.
‘Figure what out myself?’ Dean demands, following after him. He stops just inside the door and both Bobby and Sam are looking at him.
‘What’s missing,’ Sam says, sharing a look with Bobby. Bobby sighs and pulls his glasses off, dropping them onto the desk.
‘Look, kid,’ Bobby says, looking up at Dean. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate you working on my cars, you’re obviously working through something.’
‘Filling a void,’ Sam pipes in and Dean glowers at him.
‘And you two think Cas is the void I’m trying to fill?’ Dean asks incredulously. Neither of them say anything but they both keep staring at him like they think exactly that. ‘Crazy,’ Dean tells them and heads into the kitchen to grab a beer.
* * *
They tiptoe around one another until the last day of Sam’s vacation. Sam corners him that night on the porch and hands him a beer. Dean sighs as Sam sits down heavily on the spare chair and looks at him. Dean pointedly looks out across the yard.
‘Look, Dean…’
‘Sam. Don’t.’
‘I don’t want to go off with you in a mood at me,’ Sam says. Dean rolls his eyes before he meets his brother’s gaze. He is giving Dean that kicked puppy look. Dean has always hated that look, it always precedes something difficult.
‘I’m not in a mood.’
‘I just want you to be happy, y’know?’ Sam says.
‘I am happy,’ Dean says, it sounds like a lie even to his own ears.
‘Dean, just ask him to stay.’
Dean shakes his head. ‘I can’t do that, Sam.’
‘Why not?’ Sam asks incredulously. ‘He’d do it in a heartbeat.’
‘That’s the problem, Sam,’ Dean says, clenching his jaw. ‘He shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t throw his life away for me. I don’t deserve that.’
‘What if it’s what he wants?’ Sam asks quietly.
‘What?’
‘What if Cas wants to stay,’ Sam says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. ‘What if he wants to stay and all he’s doing is waiting for you to ask.’
Dean sighs and thunks his head back on the chair. ‘Sam.’
‘You can’t keep running, Dean.’ Sam presses on regardless. ‘Some day you’re going to have to face up to the truth. The sooner the better.’
‘Do I even want to know what the truth supposedly is?’ Dean groans.
‘You want Cas.’
‘I … what?’ Dean lifts his head and looks over at Sam. ‘No.’
‘Whatever, Dean,’ Sam says, picking himself up from his chair. ‘But just know that I didn’t ask him to come and check up on you while I was gone. He did that all on his own.’
Dean shakes his head as he listens to Sam’s footsteps recede. He takes a long gulp of beer and stares up at the night sky. It’s cloudy and he can’t see a single star. There’s just a thick mask of black.
‘So off base…’ Dean mutters to himself. It sounds empty.
* * *
It quickly gets too cold to spend his days out in the yard. November passes into December and snow begins to fall, making all work in the yard pointless unless Dean wants to freeze his ass off in the garage. He doesn’t do it often.
Instead he helps Bobby with hunter enquiries and manning the line of phones that Bobby still has in his kitchen. Dean might not be hunting anymore, but he feels a little like he is still helping people if he finds out what it is that is after them.
He misses talking to Castiel every day. Bobby is awesome, like the father Dean always wanted, but he’s not Cas.
* * *
It’s nearly Christmas the next time Dean sees Castiel. Bobby had made a half-hearted attempt to decorate seasonally, but quickly admitted to Dean that he didn’t usually bother. Dean found them a tree anyway and they decorated it with a pitiful selection of baubles that had been hidden in Bobby’s attic. Other than that the house remains its usual drab self.
Dean has taken to walking now that it’s too cold to work in the yard. He could drive, but firing his car up takes too long and walking helps clear his head. He walks as far as the town and picks up a few groceries here and there then he walks back; it has become a ritual in forgetting. Today when he reaches the house there’s an angel sitting on one of the porch chairs, staring off into the distance.
Dean almost drops his bags in surprise. He sucks in a breath and Cas turns to look at him. Castiel’s whole face lights up when he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up just a little. Dean has missed that, he finds himself smiling back.
‘Cas,’ he breathes and they stare at one another for a moment longer until Dean realises that they are standing out in the freezing cold and Cas is wearing the same old clothes he always does. ‘Come on in,’ he says, pushing the back door open and leading the way inside.
Dean disappears into the kitchen to deposit the groceries and shucks off his coat, laying it on the back of one of the chairs. Cas follows a minute later, watching as Dean puts away his purchases. When Dean’s finished he looks up, right into a pair of blue eyes.
The silence between them feels so much tenser than it ought to. Dean should feel relieved that Castiel is back, but he doesn’t know how to express his gratitude without it being too much. It always feels like he’d be crossing a boundary they can never come back from.
‘You came back,’ Dean says eventually, voice tinged with disbelief.
‘I promised I would,’ Castiel says, giving Dean a lopsided smile. ‘Did you doubt me?’
‘No…’ Dean says, and he hadn’t but Sam’s words are still lingering on his mind. Sam hadn’t asked Cas to come and check up on him. Cas had done that all of his own accord. ‘Why do you keep checking in on me?’
‘Would you rather I didn’t?’ Castiel asks.
‘No … I just … why?’
Castiel gives him a one-shouldered shrug. ‘I just wanted to keep an eye on you.’
‘You didn’t “keep an eye on me” when I was at Lisa’s,’ Dean points out. And I needed you.
‘You moved on … I would have felt like I was intruding,’ Castiel says. ‘And Heaven was in tatters; I couldn’t up and leave whenever I felt like it.’
‘And now?’
‘Now you are hiding out at Bobby’s, you aren’t really moving on at all,’ Cas says sombrely. ‘You could go back to Lisa’s.’
‘I suppose I could,’ Dean says. But she isn’t who I want.
Cas looks at him for a long moment, dark blue eyes studying him in that way that makes Dean feel like the angel is looking past his soul and onto all the teeny microscopic things that make up his entirety.
‘You could be happy,’ Castiel says. ‘You would be.’
‘No I wouldn’t,’ Dean says quietly. Cas tilts his head in that curious way that means he doesn’t follow. ‘Even when I was with her I was running away, Cas. She isn’t who I want.’
‘Oh…’ Cas says, frowning a little. ‘Who-’
Castiel doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dean answers it by stepping up into his personal space and putting his hands on either side of Cas’ face. He stares at Cas for a moment, the angel giving him a startled look before Dean closes the distance between them and kisses him. It takes Cas a moment to kiss back, but when he does it’s soft and pliant and he brings his hands to Dean’s sides, holding him close.
Dean breaks the kiss when the need for breath wins out. Cas’ eyes flick down to his lips then back up to his eyes. He’s grinning in a way that Dean has never seen before, it’s all goofy and adorable and Dean wants to see more of that. He leans in and pecks another kiss to Castiel’s lips.
‘It’s you, you idiot,’ Dean says. ‘It was always you.’
‘You never said…’ Cas replies, his hand comes to rest at the small of Dean’s back, rubbing slow, distracting circles through his t-shirt.
‘You do know who you’re talking to, right?’
Cas smirks and leans in to kiss him. ‘You are the most frustrating creature I ever met,’ Castiel tells him once they break apart.
‘Ditto,’ Dean grins and kisses him again. Kissing Cas is much better than he thought it would be. There had been a little voice at the back of his head reminding him that Cas is a virgin and likely hadn’t been kissed either. He appears to be a fast learner though and Dean slides his tongue into Cas’ mouth, surprised when Cas kisses him back with equal fervour.
‘Oh god.’
Dean and Cas break apart, both looking at the source of interruption. Bobby is scowling at them from where he is standing in archway between the lounge and the kitchen. Dean feels his cheeks heat up and he resists the urge to duck his head and look away.
‘Hi Bobby,’ Dean says. He carefully avoids Castiel’s gaze.
‘Hello Bobby,’ Cas chimes in for good measure, taking a little longer to look away from Dean.
‘While it’s nice that you two finally got with the programme,’ Bobby says in his long suffering way. ‘Will you please not do that in my kitchen?’
‘Yessir,’ Dean says and Cas shoots him a curious look.
‘Of course,’ Cas says. Dean reaches down and grabs Castiel’s wrist.
‘We’ll just … ah … go outside,’ Dean says, taking his coat from the chair with his free hand and then pulling Castiel along behind him as he leaves the room.
‘You do that,’ Bobby says. Dean can hear the amusement in his voice and when he looks over his shoulder, Cas is lagging behind him watching Bobby with interest before he is pulled out of the room.
Dean drops Castiel’s wrist as he pulls his coat on and pushes the front door open with his foot. He stops once he’s standing in the middle of the yard that had been unmarred by footprints until Dean had stomped through it. Castiel walks through it with far more grace than Dean had, feet effortlessly hitting the same footfalls Dean had left behind.
When Cas stops in front of him and smiles, Dean runs a hand over his face before he looks back at him. He suddenly feels incredibly awkward. He knows that he just made a giant leap forward, but now it’s sinking in just what he’s done, what they can never come back from. Cas tilts his head at him thoughtfully.
‘So…’ Dean trails off.
‘Yes, Dean?’
Dean’s lets out a heavy breath that sends a white cloud up in the air, momentarily obscuring Castiel’s face from view. He half-expects Cas to disappear in the time it takes to clear, but Castiel is still there, watching him intently.
‘That was … different,’ Dean says eventually, kicking a lump of snow away from his foot.
‘Yes,’ Castiel says, taking a step closer to Dean. Dean bunches his hands in Cas’ trench coat once he is near enough, pulling him in closer. Dean stares right into those deep blue eyes, kind of afraid of all that he sees in there. ‘What?’
‘I’m scared,’ Dean whispers, leaning his forehead against Castiel’s.
‘Of what?’ Cas asks, winding an arm around Dean’s waist. He brings a hand up to Dean’s face, running his thumb along his jaw.
‘This,’ Dean says honestly. ‘Everything.’
‘You have no reason to be,’ Castiel says softly. ‘Change is scary, but this is good change.’
‘I can’t ask you to do this.’
‘If it’s a difficult choice to make, then it’s often the right one,’ Cas says.
‘Have you been reading fortune cookies again?’ Dean asks and Cas leans away from him and frowns in his “I don’t understand” way.
‘Dean…’
‘Look…it just feels like too much, all right?’ Dean says and he knows he’s asked for far too much in the past and never thought about it. He had been selfish and he hopes his apology comes through in his words. Dean’s as bad at “sorry” as Cas is at “goodbye”. ‘You’ve already sacrificed so much Cas.’
‘And you haven’t?’
‘Not like you did.’
Cas shakes his head, letting out a noise that sounds a lot like disbelief.
‘Dean, you put your life on the line countless times, for people you don’t even know,’ Cas says. ‘You are the bravest, most self-deprecating, righteous person I know. You’ve sacrificed your whole life, why do you think you don’t deserve what you want in return?’
‘It means giving up everything,’ Dean says quietly.
‘I know,’ Cas says, resting his forehead against Dean’s again. ‘But what I’d gain is worth it.’
Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, there is nothing he can say after that, so he does what he knows how to and kisses Cas with all he has. Castiel pulls him in closer, smiling into the kiss and wrapping his arms tightly around Dean.
When they pull apart, snow is falling and the pair of them look up to the sky. Cas smiles when Dean laughs and Dean reaches down for Cas’ hand, gripping Cas’ cold fingers in his own.
‘Come on,’ Dean says, making fresh footprints in the snow as he pulls Cas back up towards the house. ‘Let’s go get warm.’
* * *
When Dean wakes up the next morning Castiel isn’t there. He frowns as he reaches a hand over the sheets where he knows Cas fell asleep beside him. Pulling on yesterday’s jeans, he makes his way out of the room, padding barefoot down the stairs.
He can hear voices downstairs, Bobby’s and Cas’ (and he breathes a sigh of relief at that) and then a moment later Sam’s. Dean had completely forgotten that Sam had been coming back for winter break today. He closes his eyes before he walks into the lounge, bracing himself.
When Dean walks into the kitchen and all goes quiet. Cas looks over at him from where he is sitting beside Sam and smiles, Sam looks like he is guilty of something and Bobby is ignoring them all in favour of reading the newspaper.
‘Morning,’ Dean says, he walks over to the toaster just as it pops up a slice of toast and snatches it despite Sam’s squawk that it’s his. He butters it, and then moves over to stand behind Castiel. Cas looks up at him when he lays a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezes lightly. He feels like he is convincing himself that Cas is really there.
‘Morning,’ Bobby says, turning the page of his paper.
‘You could have made your own toast, Dean,’ Sam mutters, shooting Dean a glare as he puts another two slices of bread into the toaster. Dean just smirks at him.
‘Where’s the fun in that?’
‘Hmph,’ Sam sniffs, plonking himself back down on his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looks over at Dean and Castiel. He smiles in that wolfish way that Dean doesn’t like. ‘Something you two want to tell us?’
‘No.’
‘Dean and I are lovers,’ Cas says at the same time and Sam lets out a bark of laughter at the same time there’s a rustle of paper from Bobby’s direction.
Dean smacks Cas upside the head. Cas half-turns in his chair to frown up at Dean and rubs at the spot of his head, then turns back around to look at Sam as though waiting for an explanation. Sam is still creased with laughter. Bobby is now watching them with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.
‘Lovers?’ Dean asks incredulously. ‘What have you been reading?’
‘I thought it was a term of endearment,’ Castiel says, tilting his head back against Dean’s stomach to look up at him.
‘Maybe in the nineteenth century,’ Dean says. ‘Don’t ever say that.’
‘Your face!’ Sam gasps out once he has run out of breath to laugh. ‘Oh, Dean!’
‘Shut up, Sammy,’ Dean snaps, taking another bite of his toast. Sam runs a hand over his face and grins at his big brother.
‘So,’ Sam says. ‘I was right?’
‘Yeah, you were right,’ Dean says with a sigh. ‘Can we skip the chick flick moments and move on?’
‘Right about what?’ Cas asks, looking from Dean to Sam.
‘But I was right?’ Sam says with a shit-eating grin.
‘Yes.’
‘What was he right about?’ Cas asks again.
‘Nothing,’ Dean says.
‘Everything,’ Sam chimes in at the same time, winking at Cas.
‘Idjits,’ Bobby says with a sigh, and goes back to reading his paper.
Three and a Half Years Later
The bed is empty when Dean wakes up. He stretches and then brushes a hand out over the sheets; they are cool to the touch but not that long since vacated. He lets out a yawn as he gets out of bed then he heads downstairs.
There’s the smell of cooking in the air, something sweet and mouth watering and Dean enters the kitchen to see Castiel standing at the kitchen counter with his back to him. Dean leans against the archway between the kitchen and the living room for a moment, eyes on Cas as he works.
Cas is all elbows and awkwardness and after a minute there is a thunk! and a hiss of pain, then he turns around to grab the dishtowel from the back of a chair. He catches sight of Dean and smiles sheepishly.
‘Hey,’ Cas says, wiping his hands on the towel then raising his hand to inspect his burned finger.
‘Whatcha doing?’ Dean asks, pushing off the archway and making his way into the kitchen. He stops in front of Cas, taking the injured hand in both of his and looking to see what he’s done.
‘Making waffles,’ Cas says, looking down at the steaming device. Dean flicks a glance at it too then smiles at Castiel. He pecks a kiss to Cas’ finger, smirking when Cas frowns at him and pulls his hand back.
‘You’ll live.’
‘My waffles may not,’ Cas says, turning back to the waffle iron and lifting the lid.
Dean moves to stand behind him, resting his hands on Castiel’s hips and his chin on Cas’ shoulder, peering down at the not-quite-cooked waffles. He nuzzles into Cas’ neck, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He grins as he feels Cas shiver and he brings a hand around to rest on Castiel’s stomach, running his hand up under his t-shirt.
‘Dean…’
‘Cas.’
‘I’m making waffles…’
‘Waffles take time to cook…’ Dean says and he moves his hands back down to Castiel’s hips and turns him around to face him.
Cas looks like he is going to fight Dean on this but when Dean ducks down to kiss him, Castiel smiles into it and leans into the embrace. The kiss is slow at first but becomes more frantic as Cas pushes Dean backwards, steering him until his back hits the fridge and he lets out a grunt.
‘Quickly, then,’ Cas says, thumbs tracing over Dean’s hipbones as he kisses him again. Dean kisses back hard, pulling at Cas’ t-shirt as he brings him in closer so they’re flush against one another. He wriggles his toes over Castiel’s before he moves a leg in between Cas’, smiling against him when Cas lets out a groan.
‘The only thing you two had better be doing “quickly” is clearing out of my kitchen.’
Dean and Castiel pull apart, both looking over at Bobby. Dean lets go of the front of Castiel’s t-shirt before Castiel takes a step back. Cas’ hands are still on Dean’s hips though and Bobby shakes his head at them.
‘How many times?’ Bobby asks. ‘Not in my kitchen. People have to eat in here.’
‘Dean cornered me,’ Castiel says, dropping his hands from Dean’s hips. Dean glowers at him and Cas ignores it.
‘Hmm,’ Bobby says in a manner that says he doesn’t believe him. ‘Your waffles are burning.’
‘Dean!’ Cas grumps, stepping out of Dean’s space and turning back to the counter to tend to his now-crispy waffles.
‘Idjit,’ Bobby says, taking a seat at the table. He looks over at Dean as the elder Winchester takes a plate from Castiel then sits down too. ‘When are you two leaving?’
Dean glances at the clock. ‘Figured we’d go at half ten, should get there by half twelve then, right?’
‘Yeah,’ Bobby says, raising an eyebrow when Cas puts down a plate with a well-done waffle on it in front of him. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Cas says, then returns to the waffle iron.
‘You?’ Dean asks, taking a bite of his own waffle. It’s really rather good, even if it is a little bit carbonated.
‘I’ll set off at the same time as you two,’ Bobby says. ‘Have something I ought to check on first, but I’ll be right behind you.’
‘Sam call?’
‘Not since last night, no,’ Bobby says.
‘Who’d have thought,’ Dean grins. ‘Sammy’s finally graduating.’
‘About time one of you did something useful,’ Bobby says.
‘Dean does many useful things,’ Cas says in the background, and when Dean looks over he is still preoccupied with the waffle iron.
‘Please don’t ever inform me what those are,’ Bobby says and Dean lets out a snort of laughter.
‘What?’ Cas asks, frowning when he looks over at them. ‘You do do lots of useful things.’
Dean laughs properly this time and then grins as he shares a look with Bobby. He isn’t even going to try sharing the do-do joke with Cas, the former angel would just give him that look like he is acting his shoe size and not his age.
‘Never mind, Cas,’ Dean says softly. ‘You do plenty of useful things too.’
* * *
Dean hates wearing suits. They are constricting, the collar and cuffs of his shirt feel stiff and his tie feels like it is trying to throttle him. He fiddles with the knot until Cas smacks his hand away and tells him to leave it, that he looks good. Dean raises his eyebrows at that and Cas grins and mouths “later”. And Dean thinks that that’s kind of why Cas is perfect for him; he gets him in a way no one else has quite managed to.
Cas is dressed in his tax accountant attire for the first time in years and Dean had actually forgotten how much he likes that outfit on Cas. He does Cas’ tie up for him in a manner that is reminiscent of when he’d done it up for him seven years ago when they’d been looking for Raphael. This time though, Cas smiles up at him and touches his hand to Dean’s once he’s fastened the knot.
Sam’s graduation is well under way. Dean and Cas had filed in with all the other friends and family and had a seat ridiculously far back. Bobby somehow managed to get a seat two rows in front of them, but they’ll catch up with him later. Dean fidgets until Cas takes his hand in one of his.
‘What’s up?’ Cas asks and Dean tilts his head at him, smirking as he does.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re shaking.’
‘I’m nervous, is all,’ Dean says.
‘Nervous about what?’
‘For Sam…’ Dean says. ‘It’s a big day.’
‘The end of a chapter, perhaps,’ Cas says. ‘But the next one shall be just as entertaining.’
‘And for us?’
‘More of the same,’ Cas grins. ‘But that’s fine by me.’
‘Me too,’ Dean says, tightening his grip on Cas’ hand. ‘Take things as they come.’
‘Don’t we always?’
‘It’s the Dean Winchester code.’
‘Ah yes, must always be lived by,’ Cas says dryly and Dean bumps his shoulder against Cas’.
Dean looks over at the stage when the names start being called out. He claps politely for all the students and when it finally gets to Sam he stands up and claps as hard as he can. Sam catches sight of him in the crowd and grins at him.
It’s been almost four years since Dean Officially Quit. Sam’s moving on, finding a new life for himself. Dean’s living at Bobby’s with Cas and will do so for the foreseeable future. They are taking life as it comes because sometimes you don’t need a plan or a purpose to enjoy life as it is.
Dean has something he never thought he could have. Dean has Cas. It may have taken years, but it is worth it in the end.
Dean doesn’t need a purpose. Dean’s happy pottering around in Bobby’s yard fixing up cars. He’s happy out in the peace and quiet, but he’s even happier when Cas comes out to join him. He’s happy that Sam is living his dreams and getting out of the hunting life for once and for all. He’s happy that Bobby puts up with him despite all his grumbling.
Most of all, he’s happy that Castiel falls asleep next to him every single night and he’s still there when Dean wakes up.
Dean thinks he has finally learned what peaceful is.
Author: Pyjamagurl
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8287
Warnings: Based post-S6, future!fic, angst, schmoop
Spoilers: Blanket S6 spoilers but nothing hugely specific.
Summary: Dean and Sam retire from the hunting lifestyle after the events of the past year. Dean stays at Bobby’s and works on cars which makes Sam think that he isn’t moving on. And then Castiel starts showing up more often…
Author notes: There was no prompt given, but hopefully this will work! Huge thank you to my beta flying_monkeys! Written for silver_lametta at deancas_xmas
It’s been three weeks since Dean “Officially Quit”. He means it this time. He isn’t hunting no matter how intriguing something may sound. He’s done with the world seemingly revolving around him and Sam, and he’s going to spend what’s left of his life…
He doesn’t know what he is going to do with the rest of his life, admittedly. For the first time in his life he doesn’t have to do anything. He doesn’t have to follow dad’s instructions, Sam doesn’t need saving, he isn’t looking for some way to avoid going to hell, he doesn’t need to save the world by tidying up the mess he made by breaking the first seal, he isn’t the vessel for an archangel and he doesn’t need Lisa to fill a void she never quite managed to anyway.
For now he is perfectly content sitting on Bobby’s porch as the sun goes down, drinking beer and relishing in the silence that surrounds him. It’s peaceful.
Dean has half-forgotten what peaceful feels like.
When the sun is hiding just below the horizon and the sky turns the most breathtaking shades of blue, Dean’s thoughts turn to Castiel. He hasn’t seen him since it all ended. Sam got his soul back, Raphael’s plans were scuppered, Crowley was stopped before he found Purgatory, the Alpha’s never got their war and Castiel disappeared.
It’s been three weeks.
Dean went a whole year without seeing him, but somehow it hurts more now. It had been easier when he had been running away, when he’d lived the life of domesticity because it was what Sam wanted. It’s difficult now. It’s difficult now that Cas has been back and he hasn’t been quite the same angel Dean remembers.
It has taken Dean until now to realise that he misses him. He won’t admit it to a soul though. The words “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone” have never rung so true with him before.
Dean lets out a sigh and tosses his empty beer bottle as far as he can. He listens to it smash somewhere in the distance, glass tinkling on the gravel where it lands.
‘Hey.’
Dean jumps and looks guiltily over his shoulder. Sam gives him one of those sheepish little brother smiles that Dean has missed and gratefully takes the beer that Sam holds out for him.
‘Thanks,’ Dean says, sitting down on one of the wooden porch chairs. Sam lowers himself into the chair next to him, stretching his long legs out so his feet dangle off the edge of the porch.
‘So…’ Sam says.
‘So?’
‘What’s the plan?’
‘No plan,’ Dean says, closing his eyes and dropping his head back until it hits the top of the chair.
‘You’re just going to hide out here for the rest of your days?’ Sam asks incredulously.
‘For the foreseeable future,’ Dean says.
‘Bobby might not like that,’ Sam says. Dean can hear the smirk in his voice and gives a snort. He knows that Bobby is probably grateful to have the Winchesters hanging around without some supernatural aide being required of him.
‘I’m going back to school,’ Sam says and Dean cracks open an eye, tilts his head to look at his brother. ‘Not until September…but I figure if we’re not hunting I should do something.’
‘So you’re going back to Stanford?’
Sam lets out a snort this time and shakes his head. ‘I think I’ve got a reputation that would be impossible to hide from the judicial system, don’t you?’
Dean gives a lazy one-shouldered shrug. ‘Fake ID?’
‘Nah…I’m not leaving you behind this time,’ Sam says, nudging Dean’s foot with one of his own. Dean doesn’t miss the note of reassurance in Sam’s voice. He’s quietly glad that Sam won’t be abandoning him. He’s only just got him back.
‘Bitch.’
‘Jerk,’ Sam smirks and takes a long gulp of his beer.
* * *
Two weeks later Dean is back on the road. He still isn’t hunting monsters though. He tells Sam to pack a bag and the next day they are driving to the Grand Canyon. He has always wanted to go and never got the chance. It’s one of those do-before-you-die things, and Dean thinks he’s died plenty; he’s earned the reward of seeing the Grand Canyon.
Sam doesn’t stop him. Sam had actually looked glad for some kind of reprieve from picking between universities near Bobby’s and writing applications. Sam looks happy to be back in the Impala and doesn’t even gripe about Dean’s choice of music for the first twelve hours.
It feels like they are finally home. But Dean still feels like something is missing.
* * *
The Grand Canyon is everything he thought it would be. It’s definitely one of those “once in a lifetime” places. It reminds Dean that he is an insignificant pinprick. He probably shouldn’t find as much satisfaction in that as he does.
Sam takes a million pictures and Dean is pretty sure he isn’t exaggerating. Dean winds him up for it just to take his mind off the fact that even though he is finally realising a lifelong dream, it feels empty.
He wishes Cas were here.
* * *
That night they crash at a motel. Sam is sound asleep almost as soon as his big lanky frame flops down on one of the beds. For Dean it isn’t so easy. He helps himself to a glass of whiskey and thinks about the last time he saw Castiel.
Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Perhaps Dean expected a fanfare or something. We saved the world; confetti! It’s a parade! But there’s nothing. There aren’t even any smiles.
There’s him and there’s Cas. Everyone else is suspiciously absent.
Castiel is holding himself stiffly; bracing himself for a conversation they both know is going to be awkward. A conversation neither of them want to have because Dean Winchester doesn’t open up and Castiel doesn’t know how to unless he’s falling apart.
‘Dean…’
Dean jolts when Castiel’s hand comes to rest over his own. He should pull his hand out of Cas’ grasp but he can’t. He looks up into blue, blue eyes and knows that the world is never going to be the same.
‘I’m giving up,’ Dean says quietly, letting out a breath he had barely been aware of holding. Cas tilts his head in a way that is achingly familiar. ‘This… everything. I’m done.’
Castiel nods and drops his gaze. Dean follows his eyes down to their hands. Castiel’s thumb is rubbing in circles over the knuckle of Dean’s. All Dean can hear is the too hard, too fast, thudthudthud of his own heartbeat.
‘I…’ Dean starts.
‘I should go,’ Castiel says. Their eyes raise and hold once more. Dean’s jaw clenches but he nods stiffly. Cas opens his mouth to say something else.
‘Don’t,’ Dean says, shaking his head. ‘Don’t say goodbye.’
‘It’s never goodbye,’ Castiel says and Dean closes his eyes. He hears the shift of Cas’ trench coat, feels Cas linger for just a moment longer. There’s an intake of breath and an unuttered sentence hangs in the air between them.
When Dean opens his eyes he’s alone.
Dean wakes up sore. He’s sitting in one of the motel’s chairs, the empty glass is slack in his hand and his head hurts. His whole body hurts. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in chairs. He puts the glass back on the table and starts to get up.
Muscles protest, his knee pops with a satisfying crack that hurts like hell but does him good nonetheless. He takes two steps towards the bed before he stops in his tracks.
‘Dean.’
‘Cas,’ Dean’s breath leaves him all in one go and he crosses the space between them in a matter of seconds.
He has his arms around Cas and his face buried in his neck before he even thinks about what he is doing. Cas lets out a soft ‘oof!’ as Dean collides with him and after an awkward minute of not knowing what to do with his hands, he settles for resting them on Dean’s back, holding him as tightly as he thinks he’s allowed.
‘I missed you,’ Dean says, and he hates how honest and vulnerable that sounds. But it’s out there now.
‘I missed you too,’ Cas replies quietly, his voice lower and more gravelly than Dean had committed to memory. It stirs something uneasy, familiar and thrilling all at once, low in the pit of Dean’s stomach.
Dean pulls back from the embrace, feeling his cheeks heat up. Now that he thinks about it, it’s all rather ridiculous; hugging Castiel without a moment’s thought. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Sam is still sleeping then takes a hold of Castiel by the wrist.
‘Outside,’ Dean says and leads the angel from the room.
He doesn’t stop until they are at the Impala. He double checks Cas is still there while he gets two beers from the cooler in the trunk, but he’s still standing awkwardly by the front fender when Dean returns. Dean pushes himself up onto the hood then holds a beer out for Castiel. Cas hesitates before he takes it, but then unscrews the cap and gently leans his backside against the car.
‘You can do better than that,’ Dean says, grabbing Castiel by the collar of his shirt and yanking him backwards. Cas pulls a face as Dean jerks him, but takes the hint and pushes himself up so he’s level with Dean. He looks at Dean like he’s expecting some kind of reprimand for putting his feet on the Impala, but it doesn’t come.
‘Did you like the Grand Canyon?’ Cas asks, watching Dean as he takes a deep gulp of beer.
‘It was amazing,’ Dean says. ‘Just the kind of thing I needed to remind myself how small and insignificant I truly am.’
‘You’re not insignificant,’ Castiel says just a little too quickly. Dean looks at him, it takes him a moment to find a reply.
‘Sometimes I’d like to be.’
‘Why?’
Dean shrugs loosely. ‘Get sick of everything being after us all the time.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t you find life easier without a price on your head?’ Dean asks. It’s his turn to watch as Castiel takes a deep swallow of his beer, his eyes lingering on the slow movement of Cas’ throat. He’s still staring when Cas drops the bottle back to his lap.
‘Different, I suppose,’ Castiel says. ‘I guess it is somewhat easier.’
‘But?’
‘But … something’s missing,’ Cas says, blue eyes meeting green. ‘Everything’s the way it should be and yet … something is missing.’
‘Yeah,’ Dean says quietly. He looks away, looking up at the clear night sky instead, but he can feel Cas still looking at him. He knows Cas wants to say something else. It never comes; another thing between them left unspoken.
Castiel bumps against Dean’s shoulder when he moves his arm to take another drink of his beer. It’s the middle of summer, they aren’t that far away from the desert, but Dean feels a shiver nonetheless.
* * *
The next time Dean wakes up he’s lying belly down on the bed and isn’t wholly sure that he didn’t just dream that Cas had been there. Once he and Sam head out though there are four beer bottles lying near the Impala and Dean knows it wasn’t. Sam looks at the bottles then Dean, raising a questioning eyebrow, before he slinks into the passenger side.
‘Cas stopped by?’ Sam asks once Dean settles into the driver’s seat beside him.
Dean grunts noncommittally and starts up the car.
‘You’re an idiot,’ Sam tells him. Dean doesn’t bother asking why.
* * *
The drive back is much quieter. Dean doesn’t bother with music because Sam has grumped so many times. There’s a horrible heavy silence between them that neither of them is willing to puncture and when they finally get back to Bobby’s Dean storms off to the room he’d claimed as his and, rather like he had as a teenager, slams the door.
He doesn’t hear from Bobby or Sam all day. When he finally ventures downstairs (his stomach finally won out) he knows that they have been talking about him because all goes deathly quiet as soon as Dean sets foot in the kitchen.
‘There’s some chilli left in the pot,’ Bobby tells him. Dean can feel Bobby’s eyes on him as he crosses the room and helps himself to the last of the chilli-it’s a pretty big plateful, but Dean is ravenous.
‘All right, what is it?’ Dean demands as he puts his plate down on the table and takes the seat between Bobby and Sam.
‘Nothing,’ Sam says, brow furrowing in annoyance. Dean knows he wants to say something but knows it isn’t his place.
‘How’d you like the Canyon?’
‘It was great,’ Dean says before shovelling a forkful of chilli into his mouth.
‘Heard you got a visit from Cas,’ Bobby says and Dean chokes. He glares at Sam, a silent reprimand for talking to Bobby when he couldn’t talk to Dean. Bobby never shies away from the difficult where Dean is concerned. If it needs saying, he’ll say it.
‘Uhm, yeah,’ Dean manages once he has finished spluttering. He rolls his shoulders but knows he isn’t pulling off cool, calm and collected as well as he would like. ‘He stopped by.’
‘And?’ Bobby asks.
‘And what?’
‘Did he talk you back into hunting?’
‘No, he knows I quit,’ Dean says. ‘Are you telling me you want me to hunt?’
‘No, ya idjit,’ Bobby says. ‘We’re just worried is all.’
Dean flicks a look at Sam, who deliberately drops his gaze to his plate and pushes what’s left of his chilli around his plate. Dean sighs and drops his fork down with a clatter.
‘Look, I’m fine,’ Dean says, looking from Sam to Bobby and back again. ‘So I don’t know what I want to do, I’ll be fine. I’m not going to go drink myself into a stupor or try and kill myself. I’m fine.’
‘You’re fine?’ Sam repeats, finally looking up at Dean. He doesn’t look like he believes Dean for a second, but after a minute he nods and returns his attention back to his plate.
‘Good,’ Bobby says, looking between the two Winchesters. ‘Now the two of you have got that sorted out, you can clean up the dishes once you’re done. I’m going to watch Deadliest Catch.’
Dean pushes his plate away from him; he isn’t as hungry as he first thought.
* * *
Dean starts spending all his free time in Bobby’s scrap yard. In two weeks he has what was nearly the shell of a ’69 Firebird fixed up to the same loving tender care of the Impala. He admires his work for five minutes then he moves on.
He knows that Sam is worried about him but won’t say anything. He has caught the looks-they are horribly similar to the ones Sam used to give him back when Dean gave up looking for ways out of his deal with the crossroads demon-and he knows that Sam is just waiting for the right time to spring a conversation he doesn’t particularly want to have.
Dean avoids him. The first conversation had been awkward enough. He doesn’t need numerous conversations about him “finding his purpose” or whatever it is Sam is itching to say. Dean doesn’t need much to keep him happy; he doesn’t need to have a goal to work towards to feel fulfilled.
He’s happy pottering about in the yard, fiddling with the insides of cars and making them run like they are brand new once again. He’s happy outside in the peace and quiet without anyone asking for something or needing saving. He’s happy on his own.
And if he keeps telling himself that, he might really start believing it.
* * *
The next time Cas shows up it is a few weeks before Sam is due to start at the University of Minnesota. Really, Dean should have been expecting it. Sam had been unusually quiet for days, hadn’t given Dean one of those looks he is starting to hate.
Dean is currently working on an old truck. He’s been at it for two days and it’s only now beginning to look truly salvageable. He has his head buried under the hood when he hears something behind him.
‘Hello Dean.’
Dean jumps then glowers over his shoulder. ‘Don’t do that!’ he snaps, his fingers dig into the lip of the hood. His shoulders are bunched up at his ears, he has no doubt that Cas is only here because Sam nagged at him.
‘My apologies,’ Castiel says and he’s closer now. Dean looks up to see Castiel a few feet away from him, looking at him in that soul-gazing way. He’s smiling in a fond way like he has missed being able to wind Dean up with simple things. Dean isn’t in the mood for it.
There had been a time when he would have been delighted to have seen Castiel. There has been, but that had been several months ago now and this was the first time he had seen him since. He has slowly been getting used to not having Castiel around, no matter how much he wants him to be.
There is a long, tense, silence in which Dean resolutely ignores Castiel’s presence and keeps on working while Cas leans his hip against the car and watches him. It takes until Dean botches unscrewing one of the spark plugs for the third time that he gives up and looks at Cas.
‘What?’ Dean asks more fiercely than he truly intended. Castiel’s brow furrows and he folds his arms in front of his chest defensively. Dean sighs and runs a hand over his face before he mirrors Cas’ stance; hip against the car, arms crossed.
‘Sam’s worried.’
‘I know,’ Dean replies. ‘It was only a matter of time before he called you in.’
Cas tilts his head at that and he frowns more deeply. ‘I would have come earlier if you had wanted me to.’
Dean looks up at that, eyes studying Cas’ face like he is expecting a lie to be hidden there somewhere. Castiel’s face is the same stoic visage he is all too used to though his eyes show no hint of him only placating Dean.
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Sam’s worried that you are working yourself to an early grave,’ Castiel says and Dean can’t stifle a snort at that. He catches Castiel’s small smile before he goes on. ‘You did this after your father died, buried yourself in work. Are you in mourning?’
Dean studies Castiel’s face for another moment then shakes his head. He swallows hard then drops his gaze, scratching at the back of his neck as he pushes away from the truck. He can feel Cas’ eyes on him as he turns to fiddle about with things in the toolbox.
‘Sam thinks everyone should have goals,’ Dean says with a shrug. ‘I’m just taking things as they come.’
‘There’s no harm in that,’ Castiel agrees. ‘But he says that you are filling your life with meaningless things because you think you don’t deserve what you want.’
‘Sam talks shit sometimes,’ Dean says, looking over his shoulder at Cas.
‘What is it you want that you think you can’t have?’ Castiel asks. Dean sighs, hanging his head and closing his eyes.
‘World peace.’
‘Maybe you should stop deflecting and face the truth,’ Castiel says.
When Dean turns around Castiel is gone. He looks at the spot where his friend had stood for a long moment then looks up at the sky.
‘Sometimes a “see ya later” wouldn’t hurt,’ Dean tells the sky. ‘Dick.’
* * *
Sam leaves for Minnesota the second week of August. Dean and Bobby help him pack all the things he’s sure he’ll need into the Firebird Dean had fixed up at the beginning of the summer. He promises to visit every other weekend and makes Dean swear he’ll come up too.
Sam hugs him so damn tight Dean has to smack him one to get him to let go. Dean watches the Firebird pull out of the yard and keeps staring down the road long after Sam is gone.
The world is moving on without him. It takes half a bottle of whiskey before Dean can sleep that night.
Castiel starts showing up more often. Dean isn’t sure if it’s from the way he left the last time or if Sam had asked Cas to keep an eye on him. Either way Dean doesn’t find the comfort in it he should. He knows that Castiel will just go away again. He’s done with hostility though.
Sometimes Castiel stays for five minutes, sometimes he stays for a whole afternoon. Sometimes they talk business-because even if Dean isn’t hunting, he’d quite like to know if another apocalypse is due to go down-sometimes they talk about the car Dean is fixing up. Sometimes they talk about everything and nothing, and it’s those conversations Dean likes most of all; it makes him feel like he is finally getting to know Cas after years of taking him for granted.
The week before Sam is due to visit for his mid-semester break is one of those five-minute stops.
‘I won’t be able to visit for a while,’ Cas says. Dean wipes his hand on a rag and turns to look at him, leaning his butt against the car he’d been working on.
‘Something up?’
‘Nothing drastic,’ Castiel says with a small, reassuring smile. ‘My services are required though, and I won’t be able to come whenever I feel like it.’
‘How long?’ Castiel’s jaw clenches and Dean knows he isn’t going to like the answer. Time passes differently in Heaven, if at all in some measurable way that Dean would recognise.
‘I don’t know,’ Castiel says. ‘But I’ll return as soon as I can.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Dean says. Cas stares at him for a long moment and Dean can’t look away, no matter how much he wants to.
‘I’ll see you later, Dean.’
Dean is alone again and he closes the hood of the car he’d been working on. He tosses the rag onto the toolbox and makes his way back up to the house. “See you later” really isn’t any better than “goodbye” after all.
* * *
Sam gives Dean another suffocating bear hug when he sees him the following week. Dean shakes his head and hugs his little brother back.
‘Come on, man, it hasn’t been that long,’ Dean says with a smirk as Sam pulls away from him and slings an arm around his shoulders.
‘How’s it been?’
‘Same old, y’know,’ Dean says. ‘Classes going well?’
‘Yeah, I got an A for my last assignment,’ Sam says with a grin, even as a kid he had boasted about his marks, Dean hadn’t expected it to change now Sam is twenty-nine.
‘Course you did, smartass,’ Dean says, leading them back into the house.
‘How’s Cas?’ Sam asks, removing his arm from around Dean as he pushes open the front door and heads towards the lounge. He pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder at Dean.
‘He’s fine,’ Dean says stiffly.
‘What happened?’ Sam asks, his face falls and he looks genuinely worried. Dean scowls at him.
‘Nothing happened,’ Dean says. ‘He had to leave, that’s all.’ Sam looks at Dean for a long moment then shakes his head. ‘What?’
‘You are an idiot.’
‘How?’
‘You should have asked him to stay,’ Sam says in that manner like Dean is being thick and it is the most obvious thing in the world.
‘Why would I do that?’ Dean asks, slamming the front door behind him.
‘Oy!’ comes a yell from the lounge. Dean glances at the lounge wall then back to Sam. Sam sighs and shrugs his shoulders.
‘You’ve got to figure it out for yourself, Dean,’ Sam says, heading into the lounge.
‘Figure what out myself?’ Dean demands, following after him. He stops just inside the door and both Bobby and Sam are looking at him.
‘What’s missing,’ Sam says, sharing a look with Bobby. Bobby sighs and pulls his glasses off, dropping them onto the desk.
‘Look, kid,’ Bobby says, looking up at Dean. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate you working on my cars, you’re obviously working through something.’
‘Filling a void,’ Sam pipes in and Dean glowers at him.
‘And you two think Cas is the void I’m trying to fill?’ Dean asks incredulously. Neither of them say anything but they both keep staring at him like they think exactly that. ‘Crazy,’ Dean tells them and heads into the kitchen to grab a beer.
* * *
They tiptoe around one another until the last day of Sam’s vacation. Sam corners him that night on the porch and hands him a beer. Dean sighs as Sam sits down heavily on the spare chair and looks at him. Dean pointedly looks out across the yard.
‘Look, Dean…’
‘Sam. Don’t.’
‘I don’t want to go off with you in a mood at me,’ Sam says. Dean rolls his eyes before he meets his brother’s gaze. He is giving Dean that kicked puppy look. Dean has always hated that look, it always precedes something difficult.
‘I’m not in a mood.’
‘I just want you to be happy, y’know?’ Sam says.
‘I am happy,’ Dean says, it sounds like a lie even to his own ears.
‘Dean, just ask him to stay.’
Dean shakes his head. ‘I can’t do that, Sam.’
‘Why not?’ Sam asks incredulously. ‘He’d do it in a heartbeat.’
‘That’s the problem, Sam,’ Dean says, clenching his jaw. ‘He shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t throw his life away for me. I don’t deserve that.’
‘What if it’s what he wants?’ Sam asks quietly.
‘What?’
‘What if Cas wants to stay,’ Sam says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. ‘What if he wants to stay and all he’s doing is waiting for you to ask.’
Dean sighs and thunks his head back on the chair. ‘Sam.’
‘You can’t keep running, Dean.’ Sam presses on regardless. ‘Some day you’re going to have to face up to the truth. The sooner the better.’
‘Do I even want to know what the truth supposedly is?’ Dean groans.
‘You want Cas.’
‘I … what?’ Dean lifts his head and looks over at Sam. ‘No.’
‘Whatever, Dean,’ Sam says, picking himself up from his chair. ‘But just know that I didn’t ask him to come and check up on you while I was gone. He did that all on his own.’
Dean shakes his head as he listens to Sam’s footsteps recede. He takes a long gulp of beer and stares up at the night sky. It’s cloudy and he can’t see a single star. There’s just a thick mask of black.
‘So off base…’ Dean mutters to himself. It sounds empty.
* * *
It quickly gets too cold to spend his days out in the yard. November passes into December and snow begins to fall, making all work in the yard pointless unless Dean wants to freeze his ass off in the garage. He doesn’t do it often.
Instead he helps Bobby with hunter enquiries and manning the line of phones that Bobby still has in his kitchen. Dean might not be hunting anymore, but he feels a little like he is still helping people if he finds out what it is that is after them.
He misses talking to Castiel every day. Bobby is awesome, like the father Dean always wanted, but he’s not Cas.
* * *
It’s nearly Christmas the next time Dean sees Castiel. Bobby had made a half-hearted attempt to decorate seasonally, but quickly admitted to Dean that he didn’t usually bother. Dean found them a tree anyway and they decorated it with a pitiful selection of baubles that had been hidden in Bobby’s attic. Other than that the house remains its usual drab self.
Dean has taken to walking now that it’s too cold to work in the yard. He could drive, but firing his car up takes too long and walking helps clear his head. He walks as far as the town and picks up a few groceries here and there then he walks back; it has become a ritual in forgetting. Today when he reaches the house there’s an angel sitting on one of the porch chairs, staring off into the distance.
Dean almost drops his bags in surprise. He sucks in a breath and Cas turns to look at him. Castiel’s whole face lights up when he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up just a little. Dean has missed that, he finds himself smiling back.
‘Cas,’ he breathes and they stare at one another for a moment longer until Dean realises that they are standing out in the freezing cold and Cas is wearing the same old clothes he always does. ‘Come on in,’ he says, pushing the back door open and leading the way inside.
Dean disappears into the kitchen to deposit the groceries and shucks off his coat, laying it on the back of one of the chairs. Cas follows a minute later, watching as Dean puts away his purchases. When Dean’s finished he looks up, right into a pair of blue eyes.
The silence between them feels so much tenser than it ought to. Dean should feel relieved that Castiel is back, but he doesn’t know how to express his gratitude without it being too much. It always feels like he’d be crossing a boundary they can never come back from.
‘You came back,’ Dean says eventually, voice tinged with disbelief.
‘I promised I would,’ Castiel says, giving Dean a lopsided smile. ‘Did you doubt me?’
‘No…’ Dean says, and he hadn’t but Sam’s words are still lingering on his mind. Sam hadn’t asked Cas to come and check up on him. Cas had done that all of his own accord. ‘Why do you keep checking in on me?’
‘Would you rather I didn’t?’ Castiel asks.
‘No … I just … why?’
Castiel gives him a one-shouldered shrug. ‘I just wanted to keep an eye on you.’
‘You didn’t “keep an eye on me” when I was at Lisa’s,’ Dean points out. And I needed you.
‘You moved on … I would have felt like I was intruding,’ Castiel says. ‘And Heaven was in tatters; I couldn’t up and leave whenever I felt like it.’
‘And now?’
‘Now you are hiding out at Bobby’s, you aren’t really moving on at all,’ Cas says sombrely. ‘You could go back to Lisa’s.’
‘I suppose I could,’ Dean says. But she isn’t who I want.
Cas looks at him for a long moment, dark blue eyes studying him in that way that makes Dean feel like the angel is looking past his soul and onto all the teeny microscopic things that make up his entirety.
‘You could be happy,’ Castiel says. ‘You would be.’
‘No I wouldn’t,’ Dean says quietly. Cas tilts his head in that curious way that means he doesn’t follow. ‘Even when I was with her I was running away, Cas. She isn’t who I want.’
‘Oh…’ Cas says, frowning a little. ‘Who-’
Castiel doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dean answers it by stepping up into his personal space and putting his hands on either side of Cas’ face. He stares at Cas for a moment, the angel giving him a startled look before Dean closes the distance between them and kisses him. It takes Cas a moment to kiss back, but when he does it’s soft and pliant and he brings his hands to Dean’s sides, holding him close.
Dean breaks the kiss when the need for breath wins out. Cas’ eyes flick down to his lips then back up to his eyes. He’s grinning in a way that Dean has never seen before, it’s all goofy and adorable and Dean wants to see more of that. He leans in and pecks another kiss to Castiel’s lips.
‘It’s you, you idiot,’ Dean says. ‘It was always you.’
‘You never said…’ Cas replies, his hand comes to rest at the small of Dean’s back, rubbing slow, distracting circles through his t-shirt.
‘You do know who you’re talking to, right?’
Cas smirks and leans in to kiss him. ‘You are the most frustrating creature I ever met,’ Castiel tells him once they break apart.
‘Ditto,’ Dean grins and kisses him again. Kissing Cas is much better than he thought it would be. There had been a little voice at the back of his head reminding him that Cas is a virgin and likely hadn’t been kissed either. He appears to be a fast learner though and Dean slides his tongue into Cas’ mouth, surprised when Cas kisses him back with equal fervour.
‘Oh god.’
Dean and Cas break apart, both looking at the source of interruption. Bobby is scowling at them from where he is standing in archway between the lounge and the kitchen. Dean feels his cheeks heat up and he resists the urge to duck his head and look away.
‘Hi Bobby,’ Dean says. He carefully avoids Castiel’s gaze.
‘Hello Bobby,’ Cas chimes in for good measure, taking a little longer to look away from Dean.
‘While it’s nice that you two finally got with the programme,’ Bobby says in his long suffering way. ‘Will you please not do that in my kitchen?’
‘Yessir,’ Dean says and Cas shoots him a curious look.
‘Of course,’ Cas says. Dean reaches down and grabs Castiel’s wrist.
‘We’ll just … ah … go outside,’ Dean says, taking his coat from the chair with his free hand and then pulling Castiel along behind him as he leaves the room.
‘You do that,’ Bobby says. Dean can hear the amusement in his voice and when he looks over his shoulder, Cas is lagging behind him watching Bobby with interest before he is pulled out of the room.
Dean drops Castiel’s wrist as he pulls his coat on and pushes the front door open with his foot. He stops once he’s standing in the middle of the yard that had been unmarred by footprints until Dean had stomped through it. Castiel walks through it with far more grace than Dean had, feet effortlessly hitting the same footfalls Dean had left behind.
When Cas stops in front of him and smiles, Dean runs a hand over his face before he looks back at him. He suddenly feels incredibly awkward. He knows that he just made a giant leap forward, but now it’s sinking in just what he’s done, what they can never come back from. Cas tilts his head at him thoughtfully.
‘So…’ Dean trails off.
‘Yes, Dean?’
Dean’s lets out a heavy breath that sends a white cloud up in the air, momentarily obscuring Castiel’s face from view. He half-expects Cas to disappear in the time it takes to clear, but Castiel is still there, watching him intently.
‘That was … different,’ Dean says eventually, kicking a lump of snow away from his foot.
‘Yes,’ Castiel says, taking a step closer to Dean. Dean bunches his hands in Cas’ trench coat once he is near enough, pulling him in closer. Dean stares right into those deep blue eyes, kind of afraid of all that he sees in there. ‘What?’
‘I’m scared,’ Dean whispers, leaning his forehead against Castiel’s.
‘Of what?’ Cas asks, winding an arm around Dean’s waist. He brings a hand up to Dean’s face, running his thumb along his jaw.
‘This,’ Dean says honestly. ‘Everything.’
‘You have no reason to be,’ Castiel says softly. ‘Change is scary, but this is good change.’
‘I can’t ask you to do this.’
‘If it’s a difficult choice to make, then it’s often the right one,’ Cas says.
‘Have you been reading fortune cookies again?’ Dean asks and Cas leans away from him and frowns in his “I don’t understand” way.
‘Dean…’
‘Look…it just feels like too much, all right?’ Dean says and he knows he’s asked for far too much in the past and never thought about it. He had been selfish and he hopes his apology comes through in his words. Dean’s as bad at “sorry” as Cas is at “goodbye”. ‘You’ve already sacrificed so much Cas.’
‘And you haven’t?’
‘Not like you did.’
Cas shakes his head, letting out a noise that sounds a lot like disbelief.
‘Dean, you put your life on the line countless times, for people you don’t even know,’ Cas says. ‘You are the bravest, most self-deprecating, righteous person I know. You’ve sacrificed your whole life, why do you think you don’t deserve what you want in return?’
‘It means giving up everything,’ Dean says quietly.
‘I know,’ Cas says, resting his forehead against Dean’s again. ‘But what I’d gain is worth it.’
Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, there is nothing he can say after that, so he does what he knows how to and kisses Cas with all he has. Castiel pulls him in closer, smiling into the kiss and wrapping his arms tightly around Dean.
When they pull apart, snow is falling and the pair of them look up to the sky. Cas smiles when Dean laughs and Dean reaches down for Cas’ hand, gripping Cas’ cold fingers in his own.
‘Come on,’ Dean says, making fresh footprints in the snow as he pulls Cas back up towards the house. ‘Let’s go get warm.’
* * *
When Dean wakes up the next morning Castiel isn’t there. He frowns as he reaches a hand over the sheets where he knows Cas fell asleep beside him. Pulling on yesterday’s jeans, he makes his way out of the room, padding barefoot down the stairs.
He can hear voices downstairs, Bobby’s and Cas’ (and he breathes a sigh of relief at that) and then a moment later Sam’s. Dean had completely forgotten that Sam had been coming back for winter break today. He closes his eyes before he walks into the lounge, bracing himself.
When Dean walks into the kitchen and all goes quiet. Cas looks over at him from where he is sitting beside Sam and smiles, Sam looks like he is guilty of something and Bobby is ignoring them all in favour of reading the newspaper.
‘Morning,’ Dean says, he walks over to the toaster just as it pops up a slice of toast and snatches it despite Sam’s squawk that it’s his. He butters it, and then moves over to stand behind Castiel. Cas looks up at him when he lays a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezes lightly. He feels like he is convincing himself that Cas is really there.
‘Morning,’ Bobby says, turning the page of his paper.
‘You could have made your own toast, Dean,’ Sam mutters, shooting Dean a glare as he puts another two slices of bread into the toaster. Dean just smirks at him.
‘Where’s the fun in that?’
‘Hmph,’ Sam sniffs, plonking himself back down on his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looks over at Dean and Castiel. He smiles in that wolfish way that Dean doesn’t like. ‘Something you two want to tell us?’
‘No.’
‘Dean and I are lovers,’ Cas says at the same time and Sam lets out a bark of laughter at the same time there’s a rustle of paper from Bobby’s direction.
Dean smacks Cas upside the head. Cas half-turns in his chair to frown up at Dean and rubs at the spot of his head, then turns back around to look at Sam as though waiting for an explanation. Sam is still creased with laughter. Bobby is now watching them with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.
‘Lovers?’ Dean asks incredulously. ‘What have you been reading?’
‘I thought it was a term of endearment,’ Castiel says, tilting his head back against Dean’s stomach to look up at him.
‘Maybe in the nineteenth century,’ Dean says. ‘Don’t ever say that.’
‘Your face!’ Sam gasps out once he has run out of breath to laugh. ‘Oh, Dean!’
‘Shut up, Sammy,’ Dean snaps, taking another bite of his toast. Sam runs a hand over his face and grins at his big brother.
‘So,’ Sam says. ‘I was right?’
‘Yeah, you were right,’ Dean says with a sigh. ‘Can we skip the chick flick moments and move on?’
‘Right about what?’ Cas asks, looking from Dean to Sam.
‘But I was right?’ Sam says with a shit-eating grin.
‘Yes.’
‘What was he right about?’ Cas asks again.
‘Nothing,’ Dean says.
‘Everything,’ Sam chimes in at the same time, winking at Cas.
‘Idjits,’ Bobby says with a sigh, and goes back to reading his paper.
Three and a Half Years Later
The bed is empty when Dean wakes up. He stretches and then brushes a hand out over the sheets; they are cool to the touch but not that long since vacated. He lets out a yawn as he gets out of bed then he heads downstairs.
There’s the smell of cooking in the air, something sweet and mouth watering and Dean enters the kitchen to see Castiel standing at the kitchen counter with his back to him. Dean leans against the archway between the kitchen and the living room for a moment, eyes on Cas as he works.
Cas is all elbows and awkwardness and after a minute there is a thunk! and a hiss of pain, then he turns around to grab the dishtowel from the back of a chair. He catches sight of Dean and smiles sheepishly.
‘Hey,’ Cas says, wiping his hands on the towel then raising his hand to inspect his burned finger.
‘Whatcha doing?’ Dean asks, pushing off the archway and making his way into the kitchen. He stops in front of Cas, taking the injured hand in both of his and looking to see what he’s done.
‘Making waffles,’ Cas says, looking down at the steaming device. Dean flicks a glance at it too then smiles at Castiel. He pecks a kiss to Cas’ finger, smirking when Cas frowns at him and pulls his hand back.
‘You’ll live.’
‘My waffles may not,’ Cas says, turning back to the waffle iron and lifting the lid.
Dean moves to stand behind him, resting his hands on Castiel’s hips and his chin on Cas’ shoulder, peering down at the not-quite-cooked waffles. He nuzzles into Cas’ neck, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He grins as he feels Cas shiver and he brings a hand around to rest on Castiel’s stomach, running his hand up under his t-shirt.
‘Dean…’
‘Cas.’
‘I’m making waffles…’
‘Waffles take time to cook…’ Dean says and he moves his hands back down to Castiel’s hips and turns him around to face him.
Cas looks like he is going to fight Dean on this but when Dean ducks down to kiss him, Castiel smiles into it and leans into the embrace. The kiss is slow at first but becomes more frantic as Cas pushes Dean backwards, steering him until his back hits the fridge and he lets out a grunt.
‘Quickly, then,’ Cas says, thumbs tracing over Dean’s hipbones as he kisses him again. Dean kisses back hard, pulling at Cas’ t-shirt as he brings him in closer so they’re flush against one another. He wriggles his toes over Castiel’s before he moves a leg in between Cas’, smiling against him when Cas lets out a groan.
‘The only thing you two had better be doing “quickly” is clearing out of my kitchen.’
Dean and Castiel pull apart, both looking over at Bobby. Dean lets go of the front of Castiel’s t-shirt before Castiel takes a step back. Cas’ hands are still on Dean’s hips though and Bobby shakes his head at them.
‘How many times?’ Bobby asks. ‘Not in my kitchen. People have to eat in here.’
‘Dean cornered me,’ Castiel says, dropping his hands from Dean’s hips. Dean glowers at him and Cas ignores it.
‘Hmm,’ Bobby says in a manner that says he doesn’t believe him. ‘Your waffles are burning.’
‘Dean!’ Cas grumps, stepping out of Dean’s space and turning back to the counter to tend to his now-crispy waffles.
‘Idjit,’ Bobby says, taking a seat at the table. He looks over at Dean as the elder Winchester takes a plate from Castiel then sits down too. ‘When are you two leaving?’
Dean glances at the clock. ‘Figured we’d go at half ten, should get there by half twelve then, right?’
‘Yeah,’ Bobby says, raising an eyebrow when Cas puts down a plate with a well-done waffle on it in front of him. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Cas says, then returns to the waffle iron.
‘You?’ Dean asks, taking a bite of his own waffle. It’s really rather good, even if it is a little bit carbonated.
‘I’ll set off at the same time as you two,’ Bobby says. ‘Have something I ought to check on first, but I’ll be right behind you.’
‘Sam call?’
‘Not since last night, no,’ Bobby says.
‘Who’d have thought,’ Dean grins. ‘Sammy’s finally graduating.’
‘About time one of you did something useful,’ Bobby says.
‘Dean does many useful things,’ Cas says in the background, and when Dean looks over he is still preoccupied with the waffle iron.
‘Please don’t ever inform me what those are,’ Bobby says and Dean lets out a snort of laughter.
‘What?’ Cas asks, frowning when he looks over at them. ‘You do do lots of useful things.’
Dean laughs properly this time and then grins as he shares a look with Bobby. He isn’t even going to try sharing the do-do joke with Cas, the former angel would just give him that look like he is acting his shoe size and not his age.
‘Never mind, Cas,’ Dean says softly. ‘You do plenty of useful things too.’
* * *
Dean hates wearing suits. They are constricting, the collar and cuffs of his shirt feel stiff and his tie feels like it is trying to throttle him. He fiddles with the knot until Cas smacks his hand away and tells him to leave it, that he looks good. Dean raises his eyebrows at that and Cas grins and mouths “later”. And Dean thinks that that’s kind of why Cas is perfect for him; he gets him in a way no one else has quite managed to.
Cas is dressed in his tax accountant attire for the first time in years and Dean had actually forgotten how much he likes that outfit on Cas. He does Cas’ tie up for him in a manner that is reminiscent of when he’d done it up for him seven years ago when they’d been looking for Raphael. This time though, Cas smiles up at him and touches his hand to Dean’s once he’s fastened the knot.
Sam’s graduation is well under way. Dean and Cas had filed in with all the other friends and family and had a seat ridiculously far back. Bobby somehow managed to get a seat two rows in front of them, but they’ll catch up with him later. Dean fidgets until Cas takes his hand in one of his.
‘What’s up?’ Cas asks and Dean tilts his head at him, smirking as he does.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re shaking.’
‘I’m nervous, is all,’ Dean says.
‘Nervous about what?’
‘For Sam…’ Dean says. ‘It’s a big day.’
‘The end of a chapter, perhaps,’ Cas says. ‘But the next one shall be just as entertaining.’
‘And for us?’
‘More of the same,’ Cas grins. ‘But that’s fine by me.’
‘Me too,’ Dean says, tightening his grip on Cas’ hand. ‘Take things as they come.’
‘Don’t we always?’
‘It’s the Dean Winchester code.’
‘Ah yes, must always be lived by,’ Cas says dryly and Dean bumps his shoulder against Cas’.
Dean looks over at the stage when the names start being called out. He claps politely for all the students and when it finally gets to Sam he stands up and claps as hard as he can. Sam catches sight of him in the crowd and grins at him.
It’s been almost four years since Dean Officially Quit. Sam’s moving on, finding a new life for himself. Dean’s living at Bobby’s with Cas and will do so for the foreseeable future. They are taking life as it comes because sometimes you don’t need a plan or a purpose to enjoy life as it is.
Dean has something he never thought he could have. Dean has Cas. It may have taken years, but it is worth it in the end.
Dean doesn’t need a purpose. Dean’s happy pottering around in Bobby’s yard fixing up cars. He’s happy out in the peace and quiet, but he’s even happier when Cas comes out to join him. He’s happy that Sam is living his dreams and getting out of the hunting life for once and for all. He’s happy that Bobby puts up with him despite all his grumbling.
Most of all, he’s happy that Castiel falls asleep next to him every single night and he’s still there when Dean wakes up.
Dean thinks he has finally learned what peaceful is.