inonebasket | (no subject)

"Cas." See Dean completely ignore everything about the Leviathans. "I don't want you to manage. Managing is just surviving and surviving is hell. I want you to be good. Okay? I'm staying here."

"Then you need to be good also." Cas finally looks over at Dean for the first time leaving the bathroom. Kind of alarming, considering how much of Cas's waking moments are spent staring at Dean. "I don't want you to settle for 'just surviving' either."

Dean is looking at his rapidly dwindling Jack. "I am good. Or better anyway. Bruises and all, Cas, the last couple weeks have been pretty good. So thanks."

Cas is looking at Dean's rapidly dwindling Jack as well.

What?

Dean offers up the bottle, not that there's much left to it.

"Sorry, I'm hogging it. Finish it off, I'll go grab some more from the car."

"I need you, Dean." Still looking at the bottle before returning his attention to Dean's face. "Not just for... I need you because I can't do this alone and that's what I am without you. Alone."

Okay, then. More for Dean.

"You're not going Brokeback Mountain on me here, are you?" Oh wait. He's not going to understand that reference. "Cas, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

No, he doesn't get that reference and stop making references when he's trying to be serious. Dean, you are one of the most frustrating creatures on this good green Earth, you know that?

Cas crosses the room, stands in front of Dean and puts his hand on the mouth of the bottle. "If this hurts you, we can pretend it never happened."

Yes, and that's why Cas follows him around like a lost little puppy, isn't it? Because he's stubbornly frustrating.

Dean looks at Cas' hand for a second before putting the bottle down. "Look, all jokes aside, if it was anybody but you I'd've probably run screaming by now. But the rules are different with you. I dunno why. I don't really get it. They just are. I just need a little time to figure my own head out, that's all."

yes that is exactly why

'Rules are different with you.' Gosh, Dean, that's about the nicest thing a guy's ever said to Cas. ...no really, it is. Cas tilts his head, but nods, reassured. Dean's being honest.

He slides his hand down to grip the neck of the bottle, slumping into the chair across from Dean in a very clumsy, very human kind of way as he takes a swig of Jack. It's so strange- his emotions are just so strong when he's mortal, and sometimes he has to wonder how humans manage to function with all those feelings mucking shit up. Right now, though, it's okay, because right now Castiel feels stupidly and absurdly happy.

Mostly, they don't function. Or Dean doesn't. He just stumbles through and hopes he doesn't screw things up irreparably.

He slouches on the edge of the bed, watching Cas slumped in the chair. It feels good to see him a little happier than he's been. Cas isn't exactly known for smiling, so when it happens, it lightens Dean's heart a little bit. Or a lot. He finds himself smiling, too.

"It's good having your around again."

"I would have made the attempt to find you if I'd thought you wanted to see me," Cas says, taking another gulp before holding the bottle out for Dean to take. "But I'd thought it was best if you didn't know."

"Cas, I had nightmares about you. I was dreaming about you dying, getting dragged into hell--there was nothing I wanted as bad as knowing you were okay. I wanted to look for you, but I didn't know where to start or...or if there was any point." Dean takes the bottle and--screw it--finishes it off.

"I was pissed. I'm still pissed. But I'd rather be pissed off at somebody that's here"

Ugh, feelings go away, stop complicating this conversation to hell and back. "I'm sorry, Dean. I am." Castiel just hadn't thought he was that important to you.

"Yeah, I know. You already said that part." He chucks the now empty bottle into the trash and stands up, gesturing. "C'mere."

The order is a little vague so Cas stands up and walks over toward Dean. Hopefully he'll get a hint as to when he should stop his approach, because otherwise he'll just keep going until there's like two inches of air between them and that's it.

Dean reaches out and slings an arm around Castiel's shoulders, dragging him in to close what little space is between them, hugging him tight.

"Don't you leave me again, you got that? Don't do it."

Cas can't promise he won't -things happen, he just can't- but God, he never, ever wants to. Not ever again. He wraps his arms around Dean and presses his mouth to his shoulder, closing his eyes. Dean hugs like how Cas has always imagined a family would.

They're interrupted by a knock and a call of, "Delivery," from behind the door. Cas is tempted to ignore it, but pulls back and allows Dean to pay for their dinner. "Do you want me to get Sam?"

The return hug is good enough for Dean.

He grabs his wallet and pays for dinner, tipping the delivery guy generously. Hey, he's in a good mood. So sue him.

"Get Sam, but if he's already asleep, don't wake him up. More for us." Dean's already yanking food out of the bag and laying it out on the table. Oh man, this is gonna be good. Exactly what the doctor prescribed.

God, these milkshakes are thick. They're better than sex.

He's in a good mood and that money is probably the result of a crooked pool game anyway. The delivery kid lights up because he probably gets tipped once every ten houses and books it as if he's afraid Dean will change his mind.

Sam is right behind him, collects his dinner, makes some excuse about wanting to research while refusing to look at Cas and Dean and ducks back into his room, red-faced.

Cas looks over at Dean very seriously. "Sam seemed uncomfortable."

Totally the result of a crooked pool game.

Dean looks back at Cas, almost as red-faced as his brother was. He knew the walls were thin. Knew it.

Cas doesn't get it.

He sits down and digs into his first carnivore special. Damn, he loves red meat sfm.

No. Cas clearly doesn't get it.

Dean clears his throat and sits down, grabbing his burger and milkshake. He's just going to focus on his food and try to ignore the fact that his brother heard them.

Dean isn't making his usual spectacle of himself as he eats; groans of appreciation, exclamations of 'oh my fucking god this burger is better than a blowjob,' so on and so forth. Cas chews idly, takes another bite and talks around his food. "What's wrong?"

NO.

BECAUSE.

"What?" He shoves another bite into his mouth, actually chewing most of it before he answers. "Nothing's wrong, unless you count the fact that I'm pretty sure Sam heard us."