inonebasket | (no subject)

Dean winces, but hey, at least Cas is being honest.

He drags a pair of jeans out of his duffel and shimmies into them, deciding to skip the shirt for now.

A week without seeing a Leviathan and then one jumps him out of nowhere. To say that's unsettling is an understatement. They need to contact Sam, give him a heads up so he can tell Bobby what's going on. Dean finds Cas' phone and ...stares at it.

He'll let Cas call.

It is hot enough to do without one, although really they should get the hell out of this motel and drive. Cas doesn't think either he or Dean will be able to make it very far before stopping again.

Cas emerges from the bathroom, pulling a shirt on over his head, and sees Dean staring at his phone. He can guess why; he needs to call Sam and Bobby and inform them, but more than anything he thinks Dean needs to talk to his father figure and little brother.

Cas dials Bobby's number and tosses the phone to Dean as it begins to dial.

"Cas--no, you--Sam."

There's something akin to panic in Dean's voice. He'd planned on talking to Sammy eventually, but this is too soon. Cas is screwing up his timelines here! He hesitates for a second before getting off the bed, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. The tub makes a plastic thumping noise when he sits on the edge.

Dean's in the bathroom for a long time, the sound of his voice a distorted murmur through the walls. When he comes out, he looks utterly wrecked and he refuses to look at Cas, tossing the phone on the table and falling face down onto the bed.

Sorry, Dean.

Castiel comes over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. "What did they say?"

"Called us idiots. Sam's pissed."

More than pissed. Sam gave him the third degree. Said this was why they shouldn't have split up. Et cetera. Dean ran out of energy to argue with him toward the end which was when Sam finally seemed to register just how badly shaken his brother is. The conversation was easier after that. Marginally.

"Bobby wants to know how your Grace is doing."

Cas rests his hand on Dean's back, between his shoulders blades. "Fine. No issues." There's so little of it. Castiel's beginning to wonder if the leader of the Leviathans had taken the majority of it for himself, or if he was stockpiling it somewhere. There aren't enough of them for it to be split into shards this small and remain even between them all.

"You should tell him."

Dean isn't thinking about Leviathans at the moment. He's thinking about Cas' hand on his back and how good it is to feel grounded for a minute. It won't last, because nothing good in Dean's life ever lasts, but he's going to soak it in anyway.

Cas looks down at Dean, then strokes his hand down his back, along his spine.

Dean finally starts to unknot, just a little.

"Sam said I made a selfish decision. He's right."

Cas doesn't respond to that. He thinks that yeah, maybe it was a selfish decision, but Dean hardly ever makes decisions in his own favor. He continues stroking his hand down his back, silent.

"Tore me open for it. Maybe I deserve it." He shifts, rolling over so he can look at Cas properly. "But what I wanna know is when's it my turn to be selfish? I mean, yeah, everything with Lisa, that was selfish, but--"

He cuts himself off before he can ask Cas why he's always the one cleaning up other people's messes. It seems unkind.

"How was being with Lisa selfish?" Cas tilts his head, uncomprehending. Lisa and Ben had made Dean happy; something Castiel hadn't thought would be possible after Sam's death. Even with all of Castiel's troubles, seeing Dean happy had been...refreshing.

"How wasn't it? Monsters didn't disappear, didn't stop killing people just because I moved in with her. And...and I put her and Ben in danger just by being near them." Add it to the list of things Dean shouldn't have done. "People like me, Cas, we don't get nice things for a reason. Which is probably why Sam's so pissed off at me right now."

"Sam wanted nice things for himself too, once upon a time." Castiel leaves his hand resting on Dean's stomach, eyes on spot where the Leviathan had fallen. "And you had wanted nice things for him, and he'd wanted nice things for you. Are those desires selfish too?"

"Sam's different. All the crap he's been through, he needs something nice. Me, I've just gotta survive long enough to make sure he gets it." He takes a sharp breath, letting it out slowly. "All the same, Cas, I can't help but think...when's it gonna be my turn to be the one being taken care of? Sometimes I get so damn tired of taking care of everyone else. Why's it so wrong for me to want to step back once in a while? Why do they so pissed when I try?"

Probably because his timing is bad, but that's not Dean's fault, not really.

Castiel looks back down at Dean with that old, tired look of his. He leans down, very quietly, and gently brushes his lips against Dean's forehead, eyes closed.

Dean sighs, going quiet.

"You're not sleeping on the floor tonight, right?"

"No." Cas wants to suggest they leave the motel, again, but can't bring himself to set Dean into a motion he obviously doesn't want to complete. Maybe he'll just stay up. He can catnap in the Impala while Dean drives.

Cas shifts, pulls his legs up onto the mattress and stretches out beside Dean, half-sitting with his back against the pillows. "You should rest."

Dean does want to leave the motel. Wants it more than just about anything else he can think of. Except he's in no shape to drive and he knows it. He also suspects Cas is in no shape to drive either. Much as he wants to get out of this room, Dean isn't stupid enough to put them on the road when he knows they're as likely as each other to get into a wreck.

"I don't know if I can sleep." He rolls onto his side, throwing his arm over Cas' lap. It's an incredibly intimate motion, but it, like Cas' hand on his back earlier, is grounding. Dean can't make himself give it up. Not yet.

"I could try to help." Maybe he has enough mojo to induce dreamless sleep. That would be nice.

Castiel concentrates and drags his fingertips across Dean's forehead.

Yes, actually. Looks like he does. Dean doesn't even get a chance to reply to that; Castiel's mojo drops him like a sack of potatoes.

Effective.

Good.

Castiel watches Dean for as long as he can, sifting his fingers through his hair, tracing the form of his cheek with his thumb.

He'd mistaken that thing for Dean. He'd mistaken it for Dean and kissed it like he'd kiss Dean. Castiel still can't believe himself, that he'd make such a mistake, and the guilt of it churns his stomach. If he was an angel-

No. It doesn't matter that he's mortal. He should have known. Sam would have known.

Eventually Castiel nods up, still sitting up, still cradling Dean as if he were something precious.

Dean sleeps late.

Dean sleeps very late.

Dean sleeps through breakfast and lunch both. In fact, it's fast approaching dinnertime before he finally starts to wake up, blinking slowly. It's not physical exhaustion that kept him down so long, and it's not Castiel's mojo--that just helped the process get started. It's emotional exhaustion that keeps him under. Between the trauma of losing Cas, getting him back, almost losing him again and almost losing him again, to say nothing of everything else wrong in Dean's life right now, well...it's probably a miracle he hasn't collapsed sooner.

He feels like hell when he wakes up, with that horrible stickiness in the back of his throat that comes from sleeping way too damn long. He's still tired and reluctant to sit up, but it's late enough now that he can't justify sleeping any longer. Dean grunts, pulling away from Cas just enough to push up onto his elbows.

No. Dammit. Still tired. Mostly hungry, though.

"Cas."

"Dean." Cas is awake. Cas slept a normal eight hours and woke up in the late morning. He watched over Dean for the remainder of the day, getting up once or twice for water or the bathroom.

"How..." He's struggling for coherency, give him a second. "Time izzit?"