inonebasket | (no subject)

It worked.

The damn things had Grace inside of them. Suddenly everything he and Bobby had been agonizing over for months suddenly make sense; their resilience, their strength, their ability to withstand almost every monster-killing substance known to hunters everywhere. Who knew why cleaning solutions worked, but the waitress didn't look like she was going to be pulling herself together again, and Cas was healed.

...Cas. Sam had gotten the heads up from Bobby, but actually seeing him is waking up a lot of emotions Sam isn't ready to deal with so he stands and clears his throat. "I'm. I'll get my stuff. Move it into the Impala." He already knows it's okay, and ducks hurriedly out to collect his duffel from his stolen vehicle. It was about time he changed cars to avoid the law anyway, even if the Impala isn't the best choice with which to do that.

Dean will deal with Sam later. Right now all of his attention is on Cas. Cas, who is miraculously not dying anymore.

"Dammit, Cas." That's all he can manage to get out and his voice still cracks at the end. He was actually terrified there. Still kind of is. He scrubs a hand over his face roughly, completely ignoring the way his cheeks feel sticky. "Don't you ever do that to me again."

Castiel curls his fingers into fists, then opens them. He glances over at Dean and, without a word, reaches over to brush his fingertips across Dean's forehead-

But nothing happens. Cas glares down at his palm as if it had betrayed him. "Damn." He'd been hoping there was enough juice left to heal Dean.

Dean tries to laugh. It's more like a wheeze.

"Careful. Cutting pretty close to blasphemy there."

"They have my Grace, Dean." Castiel's tone is both hopeful and outraged. Those things- But no, he had sworn he felt the end, but what is the death of an angel if not the scattering of Grace? What was the wording of that human law? Something about matter never being destroyed, just changing atomic structure. A crude way of putting it, but...

"Yeah, and believe me, I've never been so glad to almost get my eyes burned out." Ah, screw it. He reaches out and yanks Castiel into a tight hug, the kind usually reserved for family. "I mean it, Cas. Don't ever do that to me again."

If Cas hadn't been wanting to do the exact same he'd probably be startled. As it is he only freezes for a fraction of a second before his shoulders lower and he wraps his arms hesitantly around Dean in return. His near brush with death even emboldens him somewhat, enough to let him edge a hand up to the back of Dean's neck, fingers brushing the fringes of his hair. "My apologies."

Dean tolerates that for a solid ten seconds before he sits back on his haunches, looking away. "Yeah. Well. Looks like Sam and Bobby figured out how to kill those sons of bitches, so what say we start getting you your mojo back?"

Castiel shakes and picks himself up off the ground. "...I need to talk to Sam. Alone."

Surprisingly, Dean actually has to fight the urge to take hold of Cas and drag him back down. "Right. Yeah--yeah, you two uh...you have a lot to catch up on. I'll just wait. In here."

With the introduction of his Grace back into the equation, Castiel already feels braver. Feels like he can succeed, really begin to actually redeem himself, and with every Leviathan they kill, Castiel will become more capable of protecting Sam and Dean.

It's doable. Hell, it's downright possible.

Castiel heads outside and stays there for nearly fifteen minutes with Sam. When he returns, he opens the door just widely enough to poke his head inside. "Dean. We're ready to go."

It was only a little Grace. Don't get cocky, Cas.

Dean paces the diner while he waits, breaking into the countertop cooler for a piece of pie. Hell, he takes the whole thing. Maybe Sam and Cas will want some, too. He tries not to look too relieved when Cas sticks his head back in the door.

He follows Cas out to the car without a word and tries not the think about how they'll manage motel rooms from here on out. Sharing space with Cas when it's just the two of them is one thing, sharing space when Sammy's around is something entirely different, and Dean's pretty sure motels don't usually have rooms with three beds in them.

And no, Sam, he is not going back to the safehouse. Not yet.

Dean's withdrawn enough to just drive quietly, letting conversation and questions flow over him like water. He drives aimlessly for the most part, stopping at some point for everyone to eat and take care of other business and eventually finding a motel when he's too tired to keep going (because he doesn't trust Sam with his baby and Cas drives like his grandmother) where he gets a room with two beds without even thinking about it.

For the majority of the car ride, Castiel is quiet in the backseat with his old trenchcoat in his hands, examining the stains of blood and Leviathan ooze around its collar. He barely remembers the reservoir, but now that he thinks back he doesn't actually remember his moment of death. He doesn't remember his wings burning bright and hot on his back. He'd just...assumed.

When Dean rents a room with two beds it doesn't even faze him. Without blinking, Castiel requests extra bedding and accepts the blankets from over the counter. He'll make a pallet for himself on the floor.

Dean answers mechanically whenever responses are required, so Sam doesn't make an effort for deep conversation. He shares what he and Bobby learned -how he'd known about Cas because c'mon, Dean, Bobby had Cas's number saved on his phone- and how he'd known what to do. Coming across them- that had been pure luck. The waitress was a Leviathan Sam had been tracking, and it had caught wind of Dean and Cas's approach. It was a good thing Sam had stayed in town.

When Dean orders only one room, Sam arches a brow; where is Cas supposed to sleep? Apparently Castiel has it handled though, and Sam wonders if he should give up his bed for Cas and sleep on the floor instead.

Or maybe he should get his own room. He'd- well. He'd grown used to being on his own, and he and Dean were still...strained. A few weeks apart, no calls between them and Sam had wondered more than once if Dean had drunk himself into a stupor or gotten himself killed. No- no, he'd have known if Dean was dead, but it had still been just a little nerve-wracking.

"Actually, could we get a second room? Thanks." Sam accepts the key from the desk clerk and turns to Dean and Cas. "I'd rather sleep alone, if...y'know, if it's okay with you two." Sam has a feeling it will be. Dean and Cas, they'd always been intense around each other, but this is getting ridiculous. Sam has never felt like the third wheel where Dean was concerned but damn if he doesn't feel that way now, especially with Castiel still holding onto that trenchcoat Dean had absolutely refused up and down to put away.

He almost drank himself into a stupor! Several times!

Dean doesn't even protest Sam getting another room beyond saying "you sure?" When Sam confirms that yes, he's sure, he'd like another room, Dean lets it drop with a shrug. They have been distant lately, though a certain amount of that has been Dean's fault, what with the lack of a phone and all. It'll get better, but for the moment, Dean's thankful for the space. He needs time to process Sam's sudden appearance. He needs time to process Cas' recovery.

He's pretty sure Cas will still try to make a pallet on the floor, so he sticks with the two bed room. More blankets to drag onto the floor that way. Keys in hand, Dean waves goodnight to Sam and lets himself and Cas into their room. Their...dingy room. It looks like this place hasn't been dusted in years. At least the sheets are clean.

"We can grab dinner if you're hungry." No mention of whether or not Dean's hungry (he's not). He's concerned about Cas, Grace or no Grace. "I don't know if you've got enough of your Grace back to not need to eat."

"I'm fine." Honestly Cas would be okay just staring at Dean for a while. Sure, Castiel was the one who'd almost died today, but it just as easily could have been Dean and there had been shit Cas could do about it. Thank goodness for Sam.

...Castiel is really giving this 'stare at Dean for hours' thing an honest shot, just sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at him.

Yes, Castiel is certainly working hard on that 'stare at Dean for hours' thing. He's getting quite good at it, as a matter of fact!

"I don't believe you, but suit yourself."

Dean settles on the edge of the opposite bed. It's his turn to be creepy at Cas by way of staring back.

Look at how well that's working, Dean. Cas is practically cowering.

What, is he really? Dean can't tell. He's a little busy looking deeply concerned.

Dean didn't manage to keep eye contact for very long. "Dean. What's wrong?"

Dean wasn't aware they were having a staring contest, gosh.

"Nothing." He reaches down to unlace his boots. "It's not a big deal, Cas, don't worry about it."

Nope, not doing that.

Castiel gets up from his bed and lowers himself to a knee in front of Dean. He moves his hands away, slowly, and starts to unlace Dean's boots for him.

"What are you doing?" Aside from taking Dean's boots off for him, that is. "Cas, c'mon, cut it out."

Cas ignores him, wriggling his boots slightly to loosen their grip on Dean's feet. He lifts each leg, a hand on Dean's calf, and slips the boot off to set it aside as if it were a priceless relic.

"Cas, you're being weird again." Not that Dean's stopping him. He attempts humor. "What, are you gonna kiss my feet or something? Because you don't want to do that, trust me. I know where these have been and it's not pretty."