asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2014-10-10 03:28 pm
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2014-10-10 03:28 pm
Entry tags:
Paper and Fire (Supernatural Fic)
Title: Paper and Fire
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Winchester + Castiel (pre-relationship)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,724
Author’s Notes: Written for the October Songfic Challenge at 1_Million_Words. And also in anticipation of the season 10 Supernatural premier. I *heart* Deanmon.
Lyrics from the song by John Mellancamp
Part 1: Paper Cas
She had a dream
And boy it was a good one
He stood apart from the brothers, watching them discuss their next move. The older, yet shorter one leaned against the hood of his sleek, black muscle car while the younger, taller one shoved his hands into his pockets. The angel couldn’t hear the words being exchanged, but he had a fair idea of the content either way. Sam had an idea, Dean was resistant. It was how they operated. Rinse, repeat.
Eventually, Sam would get angry, stalk off and try to solve the case on his own. To show Dean, to prove to him that he could. However, Dean would throw the proverbial monkey wrench into the works by following Sam, protecting him, taking on the big brother role he’d spent his entire life perfecting. His overprotective, domineering act aggravated Sam to no end, but they both knew it was a game they played, a circle that was eternally unbroken. It was an unspoken dance between them, the give and take that made their relationship work. Most of the time.
For Castiel, this was his downtime, the rare moments when he didn’t have to worry about either Winchester, when he could let his guard down and simply watch. Dream. Believe that there was more waiting for him than a life of chasing these two while they hunted every paranormal under the sun. In his perfect world, he’d sit by Dean’s side while they fished off the shore, feet in the water, the summer warmth beating down upon them. Sam would be around, too, somewhere. Maybe in the cabin cooking, cleaning, or simply researching whatever caught his fancy. Possibly reading a book for pleasure, rather than to save some innocent’s life.
He saw Dean turn towards where he stood, frowning. Today wasn’t to be the day for fishing, he guessed. But then, it never was a day for fishing, a night for rest, a moment for breathing. When you ran with these two, it was work, work, work all day every day.
“Cas,” he yelled. “Get your ass over here so we can go. Sam thinks he has an idea.”
“Damnit, Dean,” Sam growled at his brother. “I do have an idea. A good one, too.”
The angel frowned at his feet, hating that Dean yelled even when he didn’t need to, that Sam always felt on the defensive. “I’m coming, Dean,” he responded, just as he always did, making his way over towards the two brothers.
“Ready?”
Sam was looking at him as if he had something smeared on his face. He absently touched his chin, wondering if lunch had left a reminder on his skin somewhere. “Yes, Sam. I’m ready. We can go.”
“Last one in buys dinner,” Dean hollered, throwing open the driver’s door and piling inside.
So she chased after her dream
With much desire
Without a word, Castiel let himself into the backseat of the Impala, belting in for safety. Dean could be a careful driver, when he wanted to be. Trouble was it wasn’t too often that he actually wanted to be careful. ‘Bat out of hell’ was the phrase that came to mind when he thought of Dean’s oftentimes erratic driving. It was better to be safe than sorry in this case.
He sat in the middle of the bench seat, halfway between each brother. His instincts urged him to slide all the way over until he was directly behind Dean, but his innate pragmatism told him the middle was the best. The center was neutral, sitting between the brothers promoted teamwork. It kept him from choosing a side in the battle to come.
Because his choice was Dean, always Dean.
But when she got too close
To her expectations
Not that Cas would ever let Sam suffer. No, he wasn’t like his brethren, the angels who played humans one against the other for the mere fun of it all. He called Sam Winchester a friend, he’d protect him until his last breath, even if it meant his own life. But Dean, to him, Dean was so much more than a friend. He was…
The right word escaped him, just as it always did every time he tried to pin down the differences in his feelings for the brothers. All he knew for certain is that the pull to the elder brother was much stronger than that to the younger. Which confused Castiel because if anything, Sam was friendlier, more accommodating, and a thousand times more understanding than Dean ever could be.
And yet, Dean was the more loyal of the two. It was an interesting conundrum, to say the least. Maybe someday, in the near future, when there weren’t any monsters to fight, lives to fix, he could sit back and figure out what it all meant. Decide exactly what Dean meant to him.
Maybe even find out if Dean possibly felt the same way.
Well the dream burned up
Like paper in fire
“What the hell were you thinking, Sammy? This can’t end well.” It never sat well with Dean when Sam’s plans went south, no matter how logical or well-planned they were. He hated to lose, to fail, to not make the bad guy disappear on the first try. That Sam would endanger himself was the icing on the cake. Now that the pieces of Sam’s idea had had time to slowly fall into place, he was beginning to doubt their chances of success.
His voice had that sharp edge to it, the one that said his hold on his anger wasn’t as tight as it could be and that always frightened Cas. He always feared that one day, Dean would forget who his friends were and lash out at them as if they were his enemies. “Dean, it was our only option,” he began, working as the mediator between the two brothers. “I think Sam…”
“Shut it, Cas,” Dean shouted, his stare burning into him. “No one asked you.”
Indeed, no one had asked him and even so, he stuck his feathered nose in again. Like he always did, because it pained him to see family fight. Didn’t matter how many times either brother got angry with him, his first instinct was to intervene, to calm the waters between them. Often at risk to his own serenity. “You are correct, Dean. No one asked me. I was wrong.”
“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean agreed, anger tickling at the edges of his words.
“Cas,” Sam said, beginning to explain away his brother’s rudeness.
“It’s okay, Sam. I know when I’m not wanted.” With a deep breath, he vanished from their sight.
As he left his physical manifestation behind, he heard the faint echoes of the Winchesters’ voices. “Oh great, look what you did now! Stupid angel.” Dean.
“Me,” Sam protested. “You were the one who told him to butt out.”
It brought an odd sort of pleasure to know that they missed his presence enough to blame each other for his disappearance. He only wished that they recognized the fact before it got to the point of chasing him away.
Paper in fire
Stinkin' up the ashtrays
Paper in fire
Smokin' up the alleyways
Who's to say the way
A man should spend his days
Do you let them smolder
Like paper in fire
Cas didn’t go far, he knew where they were headed. Even though Dean had agreed to try Sam’s foolhardy plan, there wasn’t any way they were going to implement it tonight. No, Dean would insist they eat – he loved nothing more than to plot over a good burger and side of fries – and talk it over, then grab a bit of shuteye before morning.
That’s what brought him to this ramshackle little motel several miles down the road from where he’d teleported out of the Impala. He knew Dean better than anyone, and due to that, he was secure in knowing that this would be where they spent the night. Right after they clogged their arteries at the diner at the corner. He’d sit and wait until morning. Maybe he’d even sleep along the backseat of the car until first light, thinking of how he could have made Dean happy and not spent the night alone.
This thing the humans called life was rife with maybes, possiblys, and never going to happens.
Part 2: Fiery Dean
He wanted love
With no involvement
“What the hell did you chase him away for,” Dean half-yelled at his brother, unexplainable, unwanted emotions taking the reins that controlled his mouth.
“Me?” Sam shook his head, disgusted. “Didn’t we already have this discussion? And by the way, I wasn’t the one to chase him off.”
“Oh, so you’re saying it’s all my fault?” Dean glared out over the hood of the Impala, staring at the empty road ahead of them. He knew it was his fault, but admitting to it wasn’t something he could do. But he had been right, no one had asked the angel his opinion on the situation and one of these days, he was going to learn to keep his trap shut. Tonight obviously wasn’t the night, however, because no divine intervention came to stop Castiel from getting in the middle of family business. There are things you just don’t understand, Cas.
Dean sighed, angry with himself. No matter how much bravado he put on it, the truth remained. He’d hurt Cas and that pissed him off. The delicate little feather boy didn’t deserve to be treated too harshly and yet, he found himself unable to react to him in any other way. When it came to Castiel, it was all or nothing on the emotional front. On occasion, he’d question his behavior towards Castiel, but late at night, in the dark of the motel room, he often pondered a larger question.
Why did it matter so much how he treated him?
“You up for some food, Sam?” Dean tore his gaze off the road and flicked those brilliant green orbs on his brother. It was an apology of sorts, the only kind he was able to offer in that moment.
“Yeah, I think there’s a diner up the road a bit,” Sam responded, pointing in the direction he remembered seeing the neglected joint.
“I hope they have pie,” Dean muttered, pressing the accelerator down, hard.
So he chased the wind
That's all his silly life required
The brothers found a booth in the diner and sat, waiting, while the waitress made the rounds, refilling coffees and chatting up the customers. When the young blonde approached their table, she caught Dean’s eye, giving him a lingering look. He smiled in return, giving it his best, but his heart simply wasn’t in it. She didn’t seem to notice, but he had a feeling Sam did.
“Cheeseburger,” he said, without looking at the menu. “Fries, Coke, and pie. Any kind of pie. Two slices, please. Sam?”
“Uhhhh…,” Sam looked quickly at the menu, scanning for something, anything that he might find acceptable. “Cobb salad, dressing on the side. And coffee. Please.”
The waitress, Melinda according to her name tag, smiled and walked away, hips swaying to a beat only she heard.
“Thanks for the warning,” Sam hissed.
“Eh, get over it. You always get the same thing, it shouldn’t have been too hard to make up your mind.” Dean looked out the picture windows lining the front of the diner. His eyes searched the darkness, for what, he had no idea. All he knew was that whatever he was missing was out there. Waiting. And for once, he didn’t think it was malevolent.
Melinda returned in short order with their food and drinks. Setting two plates of pie near Dean, she said, “We have two different kinds tonight – Dutch apple and blackberry, so I brought you a slice of each.” She winked at him and strode off before he could say ‘thank you’.
“I think I like this place,” Dean grinned, sticking his fork into the apple pie. “Good pie, too.”
“Dean,” Sam sighed. “Eat your burger, and then you can have your pie.”
With a smirk, he stole another forkful of pie before picking up his burger and taking a giant bite.
And the days of vanity
Went on forever
He stood staring into the trunk as Sam went into their room for the night. Dean didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he was sure he wasn’t ready to go inside. Didn’t want to close the door on whatever was waiting for him, hoping for his arrival.
Where had his life gone so far off track? Scratch that, he knew exactly when it had happened, even though he hadn’t known it at the time. No, he’d been much too young back then to even begin to grasp the fork in the road, but he saw it clearly now. The better question was when had he lost his purpose in this life?
And he saw his days burn up
Like paper in fire
“Cas,” he said into the darkness. “Man, I’m sorry. I can’t control my mouth sometimes and…” And what, exactly? He didn’t mean it? That he was a jerk who couldn’t be bothered to think before he spoke? Yes to all of that, and more. But where did he start?
“Say whatever is in your heart,” Cas answered, stepping out of the shadows. “Stop hiding behind your swagger, covering your truth with sarcasm and quips.”
Dean turned towards him, mouth open, ready to speak, but good sense overcame him and he shut his mouth. Looking at the ground, he searched for the answer, for the truth that Castiel was waiting for, that he deserved to hear. “I shouldn’t have been so rude,” he started, thinking it was the best place, the most obvious place, to begin his apology. “We need you – I need you – and we should have asked you what you thought.”
The angel studied him for a long moment, making Dean’s insides squirm and coil. When that unreadable face cracked into the grin that he loved, he finally relaxed. “I need you, too, Dean. Without you and Sam, I get a bit… lost… in this world of yours. I need an anchor.”
“I’m not good at sticking with things,” Dean confessed, meaning relationships more than anything, because god only knew, he could commit to monsters, his family, and a good burger. “But I think I can do that for you, if you want me to.”
“I want you to, Dean.”
There is a good life
Right across the green field
And each generation
Stares at it from afar
“Then it’s official. I am your mortal anchor, Cas.” Dean grinned, shoulder bumping the angel. “Although, gotta admit, that being a heavy weight is more of Sammy’s specialty.”
“You really ought to be nicer to your brother,” Castiel admonished him lightly, touching a finger to his arm.
“Hey, truth hurts, man.” Dean turned towards the motel room and paused. “But us, we’re good, right? You know I was frustrated and not angry with you?”
“We’re good, Dean.”
“Good. Let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly out here.” He inclined his head towards the motel and the now-open door where Sam stood, looking out at them.
“Hey,” he called, “you found Cas.”
But we keep no check
On our appetites
So the green fields turn to brown
Like paper in fire
Castiel turned his brilliant blue eyes on the younger Winchester brother and nodded. “Indeed he did, Sam.”
What the angel failed to tell either of them was that he wasn’t ever missing to begin with. He was always within their reach, never farther than a prayer away. But to admit to that, would be to give too much away, to acknowledge his growing feelings for them both, including his ever-increasing affections for the elder brother. To confess to being more human than angelic.
Sam stepped out of the doorway and gave them room to enter the small, run-down room holding two beds and not much else. Dean went in ahead, leaving Castiel to bring up the rear as usual. He didn’t mind, however, he’d follow these two – and Dean in particular – wherever they led.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Winchester + Castiel (pre-relationship)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,724
Author’s Notes: Written for the October Songfic Challenge at 1_Million_Words. And also in anticipation of the season 10 Supernatural premier. I *heart* Deanmon.
Lyrics from the song by John Mellancamp
Part 1: Paper Cas
She had a dream
And boy it was a good one
He stood apart from the brothers, watching them discuss their next move. The older, yet shorter one leaned against the hood of his sleek, black muscle car while the younger, taller one shoved his hands into his pockets. The angel couldn’t hear the words being exchanged, but he had a fair idea of the content either way. Sam had an idea, Dean was resistant. It was how they operated. Rinse, repeat.
Eventually, Sam would get angry, stalk off and try to solve the case on his own. To show Dean, to prove to him that he could. However, Dean would throw the proverbial monkey wrench into the works by following Sam, protecting him, taking on the big brother role he’d spent his entire life perfecting. His overprotective, domineering act aggravated Sam to no end, but they both knew it was a game they played, a circle that was eternally unbroken. It was an unspoken dance between them, the give and take that made their relationship work. Most of the time.
For Castiel, this was his downtime, the rare moments when he didn’t have to worry about either Winchester, when he could let his guard down and simply watch. Dream. Believe that there was more waiting for him than a life of chasing these two while they hunted every paranormal under the sun. In his perfect world, he’d sit by Dean’s side while they fished off the shore, feet in the water, the summer warmth beating down upon them. Sam would be around, too, somewhere. Maybe in the cabin cooking, cleaning, or simply researching whatever caught his fancy. Possibly reading a book for pleasure, rather than to save some innocent’s life.
He saw Dean turn towards where he stood, frowning. Today wasn’t to be the day for fishing, he guessed. But then, it never was a day for fishing, a night for rest, a moment for breathing. When you ran with these two, it was work, work, work all day every day.
“Cas,” he yelled. “Get your ass over here so we can go. Sam thinks he has an idea.”
“Damnit, Dean,” Sam growled at his brother. “I do have an idea. A good one, too.”
The angel frowned at his feet, hating that Dean yelled even when he didn’t need to, that Sam always felt on the defensive. “I’m coming, Dean,” he responded, just as he always did, making his way over towards the two brothers.
“Ready?”
Sam was looking at him as if he had something smeared on his face. He absently touched his chin, wondering if lunch had left a reminder on his skin somewhere. “Yes, Sam. I’m ready. We can go.”
“Last one in buys dinner,” Dean hollered, throwing open the driver’s door and piling inside.
So she chased after her dream
With much desire
Without a word, Castiel let himself into the backseat of the Impala, belting in for safety. Dean could be a careful driver, when he wanted to be. Trouble was it wasn’t too often that he actually wanted to be careful. ‘Bat out of hell’ was the phrase that came to mind when he thought of Dean’s oftentimes erratic driving. It was better to be safe than sorry in this case.
He sat in the middle of the bench seat, halfway between each brother. His instincts urged him to slide all the way over until he was directly behind Dean, but his innate pragmatism told him the middle was the best. The center was neutral, sitting between the brothers promoted teamwork. It kept him from choosing a side in the battle to come.
Because his choice was Dean, always Dean.
But when she got too close
To her expectations
Not that Cas would ever let Sam suffer. No, he wasn’t like his brethren, the angels who played humans one against the other for the mere fun of it all. He called Sam Winchester a friend, he’d protect him until his last breath, even if it meant his own life. But Dean, to him, Dean was so much more than a friend. He was…
The right word escaped him, just as it always did every time he tried to pin down the differences in his feelings for the brothers. All he knew for certain is that the pull to the elder brother was much stronger than that to the younger. Which confused Castiel because if anything, Sam was friendlier, more accommodating, and a thousand times more understanding than Dean ever could be.
And yet, Dean was the more loyal of the two. It was an interesting conundrum, to say the least. Maybe someday, in the near future, when there weren’t any monsters to fight, lives to fix, he could sit back and figure out what it all meant. Decide exactly what Dean meant to him.
Maybe even find out if Dean possibly felt the same way.
Well the dream burned up
Like paper in fire
“What the hell were you thinking, Sammy? This can’t end well.” It never sat well with Dean when Sam’s plans went south, no matter how logical or well-planned they were. He hated to lose, to fail, to not make the bad guy disappear on the first try. That Sam would endanger himself was the icing on the cake. Now that the pieces of Sam’s idea had had time to slowly fall into place, he was beginning to doubt their chances of success.
His voice had that sharp edge to it, the one that said his hold on his anger wasn’t as tight as it could be and that always frightened Cas. He always feared that one day, Dean would forget who his friends were and lash out at them as if they were his enemies. “Dean, it was our only option,” he began, working as the mediator between the two brothers. “I think Sam…”
“Shut it, Cas,” Dean shouted, his stare burning into him. “No one asked you.”
Indeed, no one had asked him and even so, he stuck his feathered nose in again. Like he always did, because it pained him to see family fight. Didn’t matter how many times either brother got angry with him, his first instinct was to intervene, to calm the waters between them. Often at risk to his own serenity. “You are correct, Dean. No one asked me. I was wrong.”
“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean agreed, anger tickling at the edges of his words.
“Cas,” Sam said, beginning to explain away his brother’s rudeness.
“It’s okay, Sam. I know when I’m not wanted.” With a deep breath, he vanished from their sight.
As he left his physical manifestation behind, he heard the faint echoes of the Winchesters’ voices. “Oh great, look what you did now! Stupid angel.” Dean.
“Me,” Sam protested. “You were the one who told him to butt out.”
It brought an odd sort of pleasure to know that they missed his presence enough to blame each other for his disappearance. He only wished that they recognized the fact before it got to the point of chasing him away.
Paper in fire
Stinkin' up the ashtrays
Paper in fire
Smokin' up the alleyways
Who's to say the way
A man should spend his days
Do you let them smolder
Like paper in fire
Cas didn’t go far, he knew where they were headed. Even though Dean had agreed to try Sam’s foolhardy plan, there wasn’t any way they were going to implement it tonight. No, Dean would insist they eat – he loved nothing more than to plot over a good burger and side of fries – and talk it over, then grab a bit of shuteye before morning.
That’s what brought him to this ramshackle little motel several miles down the road from where he’d teleported out of the Impala. He knew Dean better than anyone, and due to that, he was secure in knowing that this would be where they spent the night. Right after they clogged their arteries at the diner at the corner. He’d sit and wait until morning. Maybe he’d even sleep along the backseat of the car until first light, thinking of how he could have made Dean happy and not spent the night alone.
This thing the humans called life was rife with maybes, possiblys, and never going to happens.
Part 2: Fiery Dean
He wanted love
With no involvement
“What the hell did you chase him away for,” Dean half-yelled at his brother, unexplainable, unwanted emotions taking the reins that controlled his mouth.
“Me?” Sam shook his head, disgusted. “Didn’t we already have this discussion? And by the way, I wasn’t the one to chase him off.”
“Oh, so you’re saying it’s all my fault?” Dean glared out over the hood of the Impala, staring at the empty road ahead of them. He knew it was his fault, but admitting to it wasn’t something he could do. But he had been right, no one had asked the angel his opinion on the situation and one of these days, he was going to learn to keep his trap shut. Tonight obviously wasn’t the night, however, because no divine intervention came to stop Castiel from getting in the middle of family business. There are things you just don’t understand, Cas.
Dean sighed, angry with himself. No matter how much bravado he put on it, the truth remained. He’d hurt Cas and that pissed him off. The delicate little feather boy didn’t deserve to be treated too harshly and yet, he found himself unable to react to him in any other way. When it came to Castiel, it was all or nothing on the emotional front. On occasion, he’d question his behavior towards Castiel, but late at night, in the dark of the motel room, he often pondered a larger question.
Why did it matter so much how he treated him?
“You up for some food, Sam?” Dean tore his gaze off the road and flicked those brilliant green orbs on his brother. It was an apology of sorts, the only kind he was able to offer in that moment.
“Yeah, I think there’s a diner up the road a bit,” Sam responded, pointing in the direction he remembered seeing the neglected joint.
“I hope they have pie,” Dean muttered, pressing the accelerator down, hard.
So he chased the wind
That's all his silly life required
The brothers found a booth in the diner and sat, waiting, while the waitress made the rounds, refilling coffees and chatting up the customers. When the young blonde approached their table, she caught Dean’s eye, giving him a lingering look. He smiled in return, giving it his best, but his heart simply wasn’t in it. She didn’t seem to notice, but he had a feeling Sam did.
“Cheeseburger,” he said, without looking at the menu. “Fries, Coke, and pie. Any kind of pie. Two slices, please. Sam?”
“Uhhhh…,” Sam looked quickly at the menu, scanning for something, anything that he might find acceptable. “Cobb salad, dressing on the side. And coffee. Please.”
The waitress, Melinda according to her name tag, smiled and walked away, hips swaying to a beat only she heard.
“Thanks for the warning,” Sam hissed.
“Eh, get over it. You always get the same thing, it shouldn’t have been too hard to make up your mind.” Dean looked out the picture windows lining the front of the diner. His eyes searched the darkness, for what, he had no idea. All he knew was that whatever he was missing was out there. Waiting. And for once, he didn’t think it was malevolent.
Melinda returned in short order with their food and drinks. Setting two plates of pie near Dean, she said, “We have two different kinds tonight – Dutch apple and blackberry, so I brought you a slice of each.” She winked at him and strode off before he could say ‘thank you’.
“I think I like this place,” Dean grinned, sticking his fork into the apple pie. “Good pie, too.”
“Dean,” Sam sighed. “Eat your burger, and then you can have your pie.”
With a smirk, he stole another forkful of pie before picking up his burger and taking a giant bite.
And the days of vanity
Went on forever
He stood staring into the trunk as Sam went into their room for the night. Dean didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he was sure he wasn’t ready to go inside. Didn’t want to close the door on whatever was waiting for him, hoping for his arrival.
Where had his life gone so far off track? Scratch that, he knew exactly when it had happened, even though he hadn’t known it at the time. No, he’d been much too young back then to even begin to grasp the fork in the road, but he saw it clearly now. The better question was when had he lost his purpose in this life?
And he saw his days burn up
Like paper in fire
“Cas,” he said into the darkness. “Man, I’m sorry. I can’t control my mouth sometimes and…” And what, exactly? He didn’t mean it? That he was a jerk who couldn’t be bothered to think before he spoke? Yes to all of that, and more. But where did he start?
“Say whatever is in your heart,” Cas answered, stepping out of the shadows. “Stop hiding behind your swagger, covering your truth with sarcasm and quips.”
Dean turned towards him, mouth open, ready to speak, but good sense overcame him and he shut his mouth. Looking at the ground, he searched for the answer, for the truth that Castiel was waiting for, that he deserved to hear. “I shouldn’t have been so rude,” he started, thinking it was the best place, the most obvious place, to begin his apology. “We need you – I need you – and we should have asked you what you thought.”
The angel studied him for a long moment, making Dean’s insides squirm and coil. When that unreadable face cracked into the grin that he loved, he finally relaxed. “I need you, too, Dean. Without you and Sam, I get a bit… lost… in this world of yours. I need an anchor.”
“I’m not good at sticking with things,” Dean confessed, meaning relationships more than anything, because god only knew, he could commit to monsters, his family, and a good burger. “But I think I can do that for you, if you want me to.”
“I want you to, Dean.”
There is a good life
Right across the green field
And each generation
Stares at it from afar
“Then it’s official. I am your mortal anchor, Cas.” Dean grinned, shoulder bumping the angel. “Although, gotta admit, that being a heavy weight is more of Sammy’s specialty.”
“You really ought to be nicer to your brother,” Castiel admonished him lightly, touching a finger to his arm.
“Hey, truth hurts, man.” Dean turned towards the motel room and paused. “But us, we’re good, right? You know I was frustrated and not angry with you?”
“We’re good, Dean.”
“Good. Let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly out here.” He inclined his head towards the motel and the now-open door where Sam stood, looking out at them.
“Hey,” he called, “you found Cas.”
But we keep no check
On our appetites
So the green fields turn to brown
Like paper in fire
Castiel turned his brilliant blue eyes on the younger Winchester brother and nodded. “Indeed he did, Sam.”
What the angel failed to tell either of them was that he wasn’t ever missing to begin with. He was always within their reach, never farther than a prayer away. But to admit to that, would be to give too much away, to acknowledge his growing feelings for them both, including his ever-increasing affections for the elder brother. To confess to being more human than angelic.
Sam stepped out of the doorway and gave them room to enter the small, run-down room holding two beds and not much else. Dean went in ahead, leaving Castiel to bring up the rear as usual. He didn’t mind, however, he’d follow these two – and Dean in particular – wherever they led.