inonebasket | (no subject)

"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?"

"Five thirty-two in the afternoon."

"Five--dammit!"

He's awake! Dean rolls off the other side of the bed, digging in his duffel for a shirt and socks.

"I didn't mean to sleep so late." He'd meant to get up early, get them out of this town as fast as possible.

"Dean, it's fine." Cas slides off of the bed and pulls on his boots at a much more leisurely pace, lacing them up. "I can tell when there's a Leviathan in the area. You don't need to panic."

"I'm not panicking, Cas, I just--" He curls his hands into fits, shaking his head. "I don't wanna be in this room with the remains of that thing any longer than I have to be, okay?"

Oh, right.

Cas glances at the stain on the floor, hefts his duffel and takes the keys from the table. "I'll return these to the desk." And they missed checkout time. Cas had to very quietly insist that a maid get the fuck out of the room when she tried to clean up.

Dean nods sharply, yanking on his boots and hauling his duffel out to the Impala. He'll wait for Cas in the car since he's not really in the mood to talk to strangers. For once.

Yeah so they need to leave immediately.

Cas throws his bag into the trunk, closes it, slides quickly into the front seat and turns to Dean. "We should go."

Dean tenses immediately.

"They know we're here, don't they."

"No. The desk clerk threatened to call the police when I suggested that they provide janitorial help that understands the words 'no' and 'get out.' Apparently my tone was hostile."

Pause.

"Also, I refused to pay for a second night's stay. The sun hasn't even set."

...And all the tension bleeds out of Dean's shoulders. He's quiet for a minute and then he just...starts...laughing. Laughing like he can't stop. Laughing until his cheeks hurt and he has tears streaming down his face.

Why are you laughing and not driving.

Because Cas finally did something 100% him, that's why, and Dean's so relieved he could cry. Is crying.

Do tears of laughter count as crying?

"Right. Right, okay." There, he's very nearly composed. Dean coughs, getting himself back under control and starts the car. Wow. Just. Wow. He's still half smiling when he merges onto the highway.

Cas isn't quite sure what just happened, but Dean is smiling and Cas thinks he might have played a part in that, so he's smiling just a little bit too. "Where are we going?"

"I don't have a damn clue." He takes one hand off the steering wheel, shakes it out, sets it back down. "We still don't know when or where those things are gonna show up, so...Sam bitched that he thinks we're on a honeymoon tour, so what the hell. Might as well enjoy ourselves. You ever been to Vegas?"

Because that is a damn good town to swindle some money in and Dean's funds are starting to get a bit low.