Tag Archives: Cas

The Worst Kind Of Monsters

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Written: 15.06.07

**Contains: Self Harm (Cutting), Bullying, Dissociation, Mentions/Implications of Eating Disorders (Anorexia) and Domestic Abuse**

Teen!Chesters, Destiel


“Hey, Castiel!”

The mentioned stops walking and feels his heart leap into his throat, he closes his eyes and hopes that it is not who he thinks it is.

“You forget we had a date?”

Castiel hears the crew of bullies walk closer, the thudding of their boots against the ground strangely reflects the beating of his heart. He turns around slowly, hoping to God they wouldn’t be too rough with him. He had another date and he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary worry.

“Well?” The leader sneers down at him, getting right into his personal space.

“P-please, Brock. Not today.” The teen says, his voice shaky.

“Aw, would ya look at this? Haven’t even started and he’s already pleading. You really are well trained, ain’t ya?” Brock asks, smiling sweetly down at the boy.

Castiel nodded his head but kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to piss Brock off any farther.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make this real quick, wouldn’t want to keep ya from sleeping because you were patching yourself up.” Brock says, moving impossibly closer.

Castiel just blinks up at him – this was new – he wasn’t sure if this was something he was supposed to reply to or not. He guessed he was wrong for keeping his mouth shut when he felt Brock’s fist collide with his jaw and he hit the ground hard, falling down to his hands and knees, his backpack sliding from his shoulder, falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” Brock spat, stepping back to retrieve his backpack.

“T-thank-you.” Castiel mutters, spitting some blood out of his mouth.

“That’s more like it. Such a polite fat cow, ain’t he?” Brock approves no doubt with that smirk on his face.

One of Brock’s cronies walks over and grabs Castiel up off the ground, holding his arms behind him and kicks out his knees, so he was sagging in the grip, as the other boy walks forward and smiles sweetly at him, before starting to lay into him, using him as his own personal punching bag.

Castiel hears the familiar ripping of his backpack zippers as Brock goes through its contents, no doubt searching for the sandwich he asked Castiel to make for him yesterday. His cronies stop punching him and switch their positions, so the one holding him was now punching him and the one who was punching was holding him back.

“Where is it?” Brock yells, throwing the bag off to the side.

“He ate it.”

Castiel’s head shoots up (successfully moving his head so he got punched in the eye) and he pleads with everything he has that that voice was not what he recognized it as.

“Winchester?” Brock asks, the confusion evident in his voice.

“Hiya Brock.” Dean greets, smirking at the bully as he walked closer.

The two guys holding Castiel stop punching and automatically throw him to the side, as if Dean didn’t just see what they were doing. Castiel hit the ground hard, no doubt scraping his hands and knees and started coughing up blood, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice.

“We were just, uh, helping Castiel here with his things.” Brock lied, holding up the backpack.

“You implyin’ that I’m stupid? That I didn’t just see what you did with his bag?” Dean asked his eyebrow raising.

“Or his face?” Dean spat, turning to glare at the other two.

“We were just- uh-”

“Save it.” Dean snarled, taking a step forward.

Brock’s face flushed before he threw the bag down, glared at Castiel one last time, scurrying off down the street. Castiel wiped the string of blood away from his mouth and looked back up, afraid of what the two cronies would do. The two back-up bullies shared a look before running off toward their leader.

As soon as they were gone, Dean held out a hand to help the teen up off the ground. Castiel accepted the hand and stood up shakily, unable to find his voice to thank his boyfriend for coming to his rescue. Castiel wasn’t able to do a lot of things with the ache he felt start to swell inside his chest, and the irresistible itch on his thigh, as though he’d gotten stung by ten thousand tiny mosquito’s.

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll get you home.” Dean promised, his arm tightening around the smaller man’s shoulders.

Castiel wasn’t really paying attention, but guessed that Dean had actually walked them home, because the next thing he was aware of was that he was leaning up against the railing of Dean’s porch while he unlocked the door. Once the door was open, Dean kicked it open slightly before coming back to help Castiel inside, kicking it closed once they were inside.

Bathroom, get to the bathroom! The voice yelled inside Castiel’s head, the ache and itch intensifying.

Castiel waited until Dean had set him down on the couch and hurried up to the second floor, to either tell his brother he was home or get the first aid kit, before he got up and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and felt as though he was shrinking, getting closer and closer to the ground. He took a shaky breath and turned away, purposefully not looking at the scale in the corner.

Tuesday. The voice reminded him, allowing that urge to lessen.

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel blinked and looked around wildly for a moment, before realizing he was in the bathroom. He looked down at his leg and was surprised to see it covered in bleeding lines, his pants folded nicely beside him, still gripping his blade with shaky fingers, blood dripping off of it. He ran a gentle finger into one of the blood drops that had welled up from one of the cuts and brought it up to his mouth, licking the liquid off of it slowly, loving the shudder that runs through him as the taste hits his tongue.

“Cas, you okay in there?” Dean calls through the door.

Castiel reaches up and tries to pull himself up from the floor, all the beads of blood on his leg rolling down it slowly, unsuccessful, he lands back on the floor with a thud. That was apparently all the permission Dean needed to kick in the door.

Castiel was sure that if he could feel anything in that moment, he’d feel guilty at the disappointed/hurt look on his boyfriend’s face as he took the scene in before him. He breathed out before turning around and closing the door as best he could before turning back and kneeling down beside the younger man.

“Cas?” Dean questions, the hurt and confusion evident.

Castiel, still couldn’t find his voice, and looks down in an attempt to hide the tears he felt sting at his eyes. Dean watches the movement before nodding and standing back up, reaching over to grab a few sheets of toilet paper, holding them out for the boy to take.

“Okay.” Dean says, voice gentle, as if dealing with a frightened, cornered animal, before dabbing lightly at the cuts on his leg, wiping the blood away.

Castiel sniffs and blinks the tears away, not wanting the older man to think it’s because he’s hurting him, although he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t think that. The bloody toilet paper gets thrown into the garbage before Dean gets up, saying something that may or may not be important, regardless of which one, Castiel doesn’t hear it, just watches, brokenly as he sees Dean leave the bathroom and feels an overwhelming sense of loneliness, of being abandoned by the one person who promised him he’d never leave.

Castiel feels the ache well up again, more intense than he’d ever felt it before and can’t stop himself as he pulls the blade across his other thigh, again and again, until the ache goes away, trying to reach it from the outside. Trying to get it out of him, if he could only go deep enough, he might be able to sit and watch it come up and out of one of the cuts, ridding him of it forever – never needing to feel it again.

Soon enough, this thigh is covered in cuts too, and the only reason Castiel paused in his actions was he had to stop and scan his leg for an open space, a place he could fit one more, a pale, untouched spot on his thigh that he could decorate with the lovely red of perfection. It’s in this moment that the older man walks back in, not bothering to ask permission this time and Castiel is fairly certain he curses when he sees how much more damage his boyfriend’s caused himself.

In an instant, he’s there, back on his knees, pressing toilet paper to the thigh closest to the door, the one that moments before hadn’t held any kind of mark, was a blank canvas, waiting, begging to be used. Castiel knows that he’s saying something, can hear the deep voice carry out and break the unbearable silence that had encased him for too long, that always seems to encase him, but Castiel still can’t make out the words, doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s hearing but for the life of him, he just can’t seem to bring himself, or remember how to listen.

Again, he sees the bloody toilet paper get tossed into the garbage and feels as though they’ve already done this, but can’t remember when, it all seems to blur together nowadays. Castiel can’t even bring himself to feel anymore, the numbness has taken over completely, keeping him out of the moment forever. Causing him to fall deeper and deeper into a hole he doesn’t know if he can climb out of – doesn’t know if he wants to climb out of.

This time, Dean doesn’t get up and leave, he leans closer and carefully lifts Castiel’s hand with one of his own, the other turning Castiel’s face to face him and the hand he’s holding. Dean grips the hand tighter, intensely starring into his boyfriend’s blank eyes, trying to get a response out of him, trying to ground him, to bring him back to the now, to get him out of that freaky head of his. Castiel again can hear him say something but the sounds run together, and he knows its hopeless trying to figure out what was said. But then, he sees Dean’s hand move, it’s prying Castiel’s fist open, this catches Castiel off guard and his eyes flicker out of the blankness that had covered them, giving Dean a glimpse of hope.

He’d uncurled the younger’s hand and sees that his boyfriend is back, he’s watching their hands, and if this wasn’t so important, Dean would’ve sprung up and did a happy dance. But he couldn’t, he had to take this slow, as slow as Castiel needed. Dean carefully ran the tips of his fingers over Castiel’s palm, and felt himself smile slightly as he watched the shudder run through his boyfriend.

This was good, he was feeling – he was in the moment.

Dean carefully picked the blade he’d been clutching to up and wasn’t surprised to see he’d cut his hand with the force he’d been using. These cuts weren’t very deep and weren’t bleeding; luckily they wouldn’t need to be wrapped, unlike the cuts on his legs. He pulled his hand back and placed the blade into his shirt pocket, making sure it would be somewhere Castiel wouldn’t be able to get it without him knowing.

“Okay, Cas, let’s get you out of here.” Dean said, keeping his voice gentle.

Castiel shook slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around him easily, pulling him up bridal style into his arms. Castiel’s head was resting against his shoulder as if his neck couldn’t hold it up on it’s own and he felt tears start to soak through the thin fabric but didn’t care, he knew why his baby was crying, and he could make it better when he showed emotion – it was when he shut down and got that blank stare that made Dean panic.

“I-I heard.” Castiel whispered through the sobs.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to not focus on the fact that he could feel the sections of spine shift every time Castiel breathed.

“Good, that’s good.” Dean approved quietly.

Dean walked out of the bathroom and made the small trip into the living room, standing in the middle of it for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to let go of his boyfriend. It would probably have been better to go up to his room, for the privacy they needed, but Dean refused to climb the stairs while carrying him because he knew each step set a jolt of pain through his baby and the last thing he wanted was to cause him any more pain. He walked a few slow laps around the living room, relishing the feel of his baby being so close to him, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold him close and feel his heartbeat.

Dean sighed and walked to the couch, laying Castiel down on it carefully, so he was on his back, allowing Dean to see the full extent of the damage done to his legs. He ran back to the hallway where he’d dropped the first aid kit when he heard the overwhelming absence of sound and saw the bathroom door was still pushed over how he’d left it, letting him know that Cas hadn’t moved.

He came back and pulled the coffee table closer, sitting down on it before setting the first aid kit down beside him, opening it up before starting to disinfect the cuts. Castiel hissed when the liquid hit the fresh wounds and Dean felt instantly guilty at the fact that he was grateful that he felt the sting.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbled, putting it away and taking out the gauze wrappings.

“It’s ‘k.” Came the quiet reply.

Dean shifted Castiel, so it looked as though he was sitting up facing him so he could wrap his legs up. Castiel’s body kept falling forward, after two minutes of trying to get him to stay leaned against the couch, Dean gave in and allowed him to lean against him, it was actually easier to wrap his legs like this, because he could easily reach the underside of the legs. Once he was done wrapping his legs, Dean shifted him back down into a laying position before getting up to go put the first aid kit in the bathroom and grabbing his pants off the floor, bringing them out so they were on the coffee table.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, looking him over for any sign of movement.

“Yeah?”

“You can’t go to sleep, you lost a lot of blood and I don’t want you to slip into a coma – that would be a kind of crappy way to end a date.” Dean joked, smiling at the fact Cas still seemed to be with him.

Castiel shifted, lifting himself up so he was leaning against the arm of the couch and blinked his eyes open slowly, clearly fighting to keep them open.

“Sorry.” Cas replied automatically.

“Don’t apologize.” Dean chastised.

“Sorry.”

“What did I just tell you?” Dean asked, carefully looking his boyfriend over and not liking how thin he’d become.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, stopping him from apologizing for a third time.

Cas’s eyes went wide with fear and he shook his head, subconsciously starting to scratch at his arms.

“Well I’m starving,” Dean began, covering his hands with his own, getting him to stop scratching, “and seems as how you’re spending the night, and the fact that I know Sam hasn’t eaten yet, I’m going to order a pizza anyway. That way if you change your mind there’s food for you to have.” Dean explained, knowing that Cas would end up eating something before he let him leave.

“Do you have money for pizza?” Cas asked nervously.

“Of course.” Dean replied with a smile, getting up to walk into the kitchen so he could call in the order.

He loved Cas to death, sure, but one thing that always bugged him about his boyfriend was the fact that he’d been brought up to think that if there was food, you ate, if there wasn’t, you didn’t. And he would fight tooth and nail to try and keep people from spending money on him, he felt guilty because he couldn’t even hope to pay them back, or even, going out of there way for him – he didn’t think he was worth it. Okay, technically that was two things, but they went hand in hand so they were really only one.

Dean phoned in the order as fast as he could, not wanting to leave Cas alone longer than he had to, especially when he was just starting to come back to the moment. Dean hung up and turned away from the wall to find Sam peering in to the doorway, sheepishly.

“You can come in Sammy, I’m not gonna bite ya.” Dean stated, smirking at his brother.

“I know that!” Sam countered, coming into the room, placing his hands on his hips and looking a damn awful lot like Mom.

“Okay, so then why’re you sneaking around?” Dean countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I-” Sam shut himself up before looking around, his eyes going wide with fright as if he heard something.

“You…?” Dean prompted, not understanding why his brother had froze.

“D-Dean?”

Dean’s head whipped around to the doorway from the living room and saw Cas leaning against it, clearly trying to catch his breath. Dean looked him over, trying to figure out why he was so winded if he just walked to kitchen, but noted that his pants were on.

“Yeah Cas? What is it?” Dean asked, looking him back over for any signs of damage or other injury.

“I, uh, I was just wondering if I could spend the night?” Cas asked, blushing and looking down.

“Yeah, of course.” Dean agreed, wondering why he’d ask such a stupid question.

Castiel smiled slightly before pushing himself off of the doorway and stumbling back into the living room.

Dean shook his head before looking back to his brother, who was standing there, pale and sweaty, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean questioned.

Sam turned to look back at his brother slowly and nodded, his eyes still wide with fear.

“I- I think I’m gonna go finish my homework.” Sam stated, turning to rush out of the kitchen.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Dean stopped him, closing the distance between them.

“Are you scared of Cas?” Dean asked, piecing it together.

“What? N-no, of course not.” Sam answered, his voice shaking.

“Okay, then why don’t you take a break and hang out with us for a bit? I ordered pizza.” Dean offered.

“He’s staying the night.” Sam replied, as if that was supposed to be an answer.

“Yeah, and we’re also dating, and I’m taller than you. Now that we’re done stating the obvious, come hang out with us.”

“No, I can’t. I have to finish my homework.” Sam said quickly.

“Sammy, come on!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Sh! Dean, be quiet!” Sam hissed, looking around frantically.

“What are you so afraid of? Mom’s not here, I can be as loud as I want!” Dean yelled.

Sam stomped his foot and pushed his bottom lip out in frustration, he couldn’t tell his brother that he was scared of his boyfriend (who looked more like a walking skeleton than a person) and he couldn’t find a sufficient lie to tell.

“I just can’t Dean, alright?” Sam replied, irritation clearly evident in his voice.

“Sammy, c’mon, just, half an hour, you need to take a break and eat something, kiddo.” Dean bargained.

“Fine, let me know when the pizza’s here.” Sam agreed before walking out of the kitchen and stomping back up the stairs to his room.

Dean sighed and shook his head – it didn’t make sense that he was scared of Cas; he wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone Sam. If Cas ever was going to go postal, Dean knew who he’d go after, and he could personally guarantee that Sam (and himself) were not on the list. He walked back into the living room and plopped himself down on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” Cas asked from his left.

“Yeah Cas, everything’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Dean replied, keeping his eyes closed.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, hesitation in his voice.

“Damn it Cas! Why can’t you take yes for an answer?” Dean bellowed, bolting upright before smacking Cas in the face.

Dean blinked and saw Cas’ face look back at him in pure shock before it was covered up and the blank stare was back, tears in his eyes.

Damn it.

“No Cas-”

Cas got up and hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Well at least all he can do is cry, I still got his-

Dean’s heart sped up as he patted the pocket of his shirt and didn’t feel the little blade he’d taken from his boyfriend. He reached inside his pocket and felt around – nothing. He didn’t have the blade on him anymore, and Cas just ran to the bathroom.

Shit.

Dean was up and knocking on the bathroom door before his brain had time to catch up to what he was doing.

“Cas?” Dean called nervously through the door.

How the hell did he take it without me noticing? Dean thought, knocking on the door harder.

“C’mon, Cas – open up.”

“Please, don’t do this Cas.” Dean pleaded, sliding down the door, tears stinging his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, Cas, c’mon please.”

Dean wiped at his eyes, cursing himself for being such a girl about this.

“Okay, fine.” Dean growled under his breath before rushing forward to break the door in.

It opened with a loud crack but didn’t open all the way, only serving to worry Dean more. He managed to wiggle himself inside the bathroom and was shocked to see Cas. He was just sitting there, rocking back and forth, crying – no blood, and no blade.

“Cas?” Dean asked gently, kneeling down so he was somewhat eye level.

“W-was he right?” Cas questioned, bringing his eyes slowly up to Dean’s face.

“Who?” Dean encouraged softly.

“Brock, when he called me f-fat.” Cas explained, new tears beginning to fall.

“What? No.” Dean replied appalled – did he really think that?

“You are nowhere even near fat – you’re skinny at best.” Dean assured, sitting crossed legged, pulling the younger man into his arms.

Cas held onto his shirt in a death grip as he let himself cry, not able to hold back any longer.

“I wanted to – wanted to so bad, but I didn’t.” Cas mumbled, crying harder into his chest.

“Sh, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain to me.” Dean cooed, hugging him tighter to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Cas apologized, his voice and heart breaking.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Don’t worry about it.” Dean replied, kissing the top of his head.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, letting Cas’ tears fall. He had finally stopped crying and calmed down a little, but neither man dared to move.

“I-I don’t think I want it anymore.” Cas said, breaking the silence.

“Okay.” Dean agreed, petting his hair.

“I’m scared, Dean.” Cas whispered, starting to shake slightly.

“It’s alright, Cas, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Dean reassured.

Ding-dong!

Both boys jumped at the noise, before Dean carefully set Cas aside, so he could stand up to get the door.

“You’re sure?” Dean asked, helping Cas stand up too.

“No.”

Dean smiled sadly but nodded, he understood how hard this was going to be.

Ding-dong!

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do this now.” Dean calmed.

Cas shook his head before taking the blade out of his pocket and taking in a huge breath, walking over to the garbage can. He held it out in his hand and Dean could see he was shaking. He watched as ten different emotions flitted across his face before his expression turned hard and he tilted his hand, letting the blade fall out of it slowly. At the dull thud it made in the garbage, Cas breathed out and deflated, subconsciously placing a hand on top of his thigh.

“I am so proud of you.” Dean beamed, walking over to wrap him up in a giant bear hug.

“Really?” Cas asked with a sheepish smile as Dean set him down.

“Of course.” Dean promised with a smile.

“Now whaddya say we go get that pizza before Sam eats it all?” Dean suggested, taking Cas by the hand to lead him out of the bathroom.

“Shouldn’t we answer the door first?” Cas asked, his smile growing.

“Hey, now there’s an idea!” Dean teased, walking them out and toward the door.

He ran a little and skidded to a hault just before slamming into the door. He retched it open excitedly, and his mouth opened a little in surprise when he didn’t see the delivery guy standing there.

“Whoa, hey! Where you going with our food?” Dean called, jogging a little to catch up to the delivery guy who was walking back to the car.

After a quick pizza-money exchange, Dean walked back in, closing the door with his foot.

“Sam! Get your ass down here before we eat all the grub!” Dean called up the stairs on his way to the living room to set the pizza down.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas asked from the doorway.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, looking up from the pizza.

“Thanks.”


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Fired Angel

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Written: 14.07.11

Gen. Upset!Cas, Comforting!Dean


Castiel walked down the street with his heart in his stomach, he couldn’t possibly have been more humiliated if he’d shown up to work without his pants. Dean had told him this human thing was hard, but he didn’t expect it to be this hard. How was he supposed to go home and tell Dean that he’d gotten fired from the gas station? It was ‘the easiest possible job to get’ (in Dean’s words) and yet he’d still managed to screw it up.

How was he supposed to tell Dean? He’d surely kick him back out of the bunker…

Maybe I don’t have to tell him. Cas thought as he walked, kicking a stone as he went.

Of course you have to tell him! Don’t be stupid! He yelled at himself, not realizing his pace had increased.

He’s going to be so disappointed in me.

Cas swallowed thickly as he thought about the look Dean would give him. His head slightly tilted away, his eyes cast down, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose.

There was no way Cas could handle that look. He looked after the rock he’d kicked into the street, a frown on his face – he couldn’t even kick a rock right anymore. He kept walking, trying to pump himself up to tell Dean, telling himself that he could do it, he’d done worse, and other things along those lines.

By the time he’d reached the front door, he had done a pretty good job, and was actually feeling pretty good.

Now the only problem was turning his thoughts into reality. He opened the door with shaking hands and slipped in as quietly as he could, not wanting to get ambushed as soon as he got in the door.

Maybe I can make it to my room and buy myself some more time. Cas thought, silently walking down the hall, feeling as though his heart was trying to escape his chest.

He cursed human emotions as he walked, keeping his ears open so he’d be able to hear if Dean was around.

“Hey Cas.”

Cas jumped a foot in the air and turned around to see the taller Winchester standing behind him, looking confused, no doubt at the scare.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Sam stated, looking at him like he was analyzing him for a suitable cause as to why he’d be jumpy.

Cas hated it when he looked at him like that, made him feel like he really couldn’t hide anything from these two men. It made him feel all the more useless.

“It’s alright, Sam, you didn’t scare me.” Cas lied, giving him a tight smile and hoping that the other Winchester wasn’t close.

The most unusual thing Cas had learned from living with the Winchesters was that when one of them was near, the other wasn’t too far behind. It was almost as if spending their whole lives in tiny spaces had accustomed them to follow each other around like dogs. Most days, this amused the ex-angel, how he could call for one and not five minutes later both would be before him. Today, however, it just made him all the more anxious.

“Cas? You alright?” Sam asked, still searching him for some sort of answer with his eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, so if you’ll excuse me…” Cas said before turning around and hurrying down the hall, slamming his door shut behind him.

He let out a huge breath and allowed himself to lean against the door until his heart decided it in fact, did like the home it had and calmed down. He quickly changed out of his work clothes, throwing them in a pile on his floor, opting instead to wear his usual clothes. As he slid his arms into the trench-coat he felt himself relax a little more, now that he was in comfortable clothes, he felt slightly more ready to face the eldest Winchester.

He walked out of his room and right into the one his was still trying to avoid.

Damn it. Cas thought, taking a step back, even though he really didn’t want to.

Two things he was trying to hide from the eldest.

He was so screwed.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greeted him with a confused look.

“Hello Dean.” Cas replied, feeling something start sliding down his back.

“You seemed to be in a hurry.” Dean said, in true Dean fashion, wanting Cas to tell him without being questioned, even though this was pretty much the equivalent of him asking.

“Yes well, I’m just…” Cas trailed off, trying to think of a normal human reason to be rushing off someone except for wanting to avoid someone.

Just then, a weird noise cut into their conversation, making Dean chuckle and Cas to just get more confused.

“Say no more, I completely understand.” Dean stated, slinging an arm over Cas’ shoulders, leading him down the hall.

“Where are we going Dean?” Cas couldn’t help asking.

This just earned him another chuckle from the man as they walked. Cas frowned slightly; he was never going to be able to figure this human thing out if they didn’t tell him what he was feeling. Dean had led them into the kitchen, before pointing to a stool that was pulled out from the island they used as a table, silently telling the other man to sit.

Cas obliged and watched as Dean started swirling around the kitchen, from the fridge, to the stove and into cupboards and everything between. Cas was going to ask Dean what he was doing, and why it seemed he had to make so much noise doing it, when the youngest Winchester walked into the kitchen. Dean turned his head from the stove to see who it was, smiled, before turning back to whatever he was doing. Sam took the stool beside Cas and nodded to his brother.

Cas watched Sam watch Dean and noticed that the former was watching the latter with a look of awe and wonder, as if this was some foreign thing that he was captivated by. Although, with mostly running to diners and living in crap motel rooms, Cas could understand why it was treat to see Dean busying himself around a kitchen, with a strange look of fondness on his face, instead of his usual look of concentration.

“It reminds him of watching his mom.” Sam supplied, as if he could hear what Cas was thinking.

Cas nodded in acknowledgement and continued watching the eldest in fascination, not missing how Sam had said ‘his mom’ instead of ‘Mom’. That was something else Cas had begun picking up on, not only was it an unwritten rule to not mention Mary Winchester, but on the blue moon when she would be mentioned, Sam always referred to her as ‘his mom’ or John’s wife, he’d never once said ‘Mom’ in a way that included himself as her child. Before Cas fell, he had noticed this but never gave it much thought, as when he was an angel; there was always something more important going on.

“What?” Dean asked, turning slightly to look at the pair.

“Just said I hope whatever you’re making’s good.” Sam lied, making it look so easy.

Why couldn’t Cas do it as simple as him?

“Of course it’s gonna be good.” Dean scoffed, acting offended.

“Pretty cocky for someone who’d never cooked a day in his life.” Sam countered back, smiling.

“Hey! I’ve cooked!” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah? When?” Sam asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at his brother with his ‘I win’ look.

“Plenty of times! I was a pretty kick-ass cook back when-”

Dean’s face fell at the memory, swallowing thickly before turning back around to the stove. Cas tilted his head in confusion and looked to the other man, hoping for an explanation. Sam had uncrossed his arms and was looking at a spot on the floor, his jaw clenched like he was a kid who was getting in trouble.

“I don’t-”

“You finish the research?” Dean asked icily, cutting Cas off.

Sam closed his eyes but otherwise didn’t answer the question. He let a breath out through his nose before hopping off the stool and walking out of the room, looking two inches tall instead of his impressive 6’4”. Cas looked back to the eldest, who was still facing the stove, but had stopped cooking.

Cas could see how tense he was by his shoulders, his head hung down, no doubt his eyes closed while he cursed himself for something he thought he’d done wrong. If Cas was still an angel he’d be able to read his mind and find out, in the hopes of helping him, but now he could only ask and hope he didn’t lie or shut down, the way Cas had seen him do to other humans.

“Dean?” Cas asked, hating the tense silence, mostly because he didn’t understand why it was tense and wanting to help.

“Yeah Cas?” Dean asked back, sounding deflated as well.

Cas began to bite at his bottom lip, he wasn’t sure what to do, how to approach the subject, because he didn’t even know what the subject was, other than the fact that it was something both brother’s didn’t want to talk about.

That gave Cas that it was part of their past, but knowing that it was the Winchesters, it could be anything in their past.

He really, really hated not being an angel.

“Cas?” Dean asked, suddenly so close to the man that he could count his freckles.

“Sorry.” Cas apologize, going to take a step back, momentarily thinking he’d popped in too close to the eldest, as he often did, before falling off the stool.

Cas looked around with his head tilted, trying to find a reason as to why he was on the floor.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked, holding his hand out to help him stand up.

“Yes, I just forgot where I was for a moment.” Cas explained, taking the hand with his own.

A moment went by with the two of them just holding each other’s hands, Cas’ head tilted to the side in confusion, Dean with his eyebrows raised, expecting the new human to pull himself up.

“Cas?” Dean asked expectantly.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas replied, locking eyes with the man.

“You, uh, plan on keeping my hand? Or can I have it back?” Dean asked, his smirk making it’s way onto his face.

Cas looked back up to the hunter, confusion still evident in his eyes.

“Let go.” Dean stated, looking down to their hands.

The ex-angel followed his gaze and his eyebrows rose in surprise, as if he thought he had let go. He quickly let go and looked to the side, trying to hide his face from the hunter.

“Sorry.” Cas mumbled, feeling heat in his cheeks.

“It’s fine, I know it’s your first time.” Dean replied with a chuckle before going back to the stove.

“Hope your hungry Cas, ‘cause this is pretty awesome.” Dean stated, turning the burner off and taking out two plates.

“I’m sure it’s good Dean.” Cas replied, biting his lip.

He couldn’t just keep this to himself, Dean would be pissed if he found out he’d been keeping something as big as this from him.

The mentioned sat down, a giant grin on his face, before sliding Cas’ plate in front of him, complete with eating utensils (Cas smiled fondly as he remembered the first time he’d tried to eat with the hunters and they had all gotten their own food – the ex-angel hadn’t noticed either man grab a fork from the drawer and started eating with his hands until he realized both men were starring at him). Cas sent an appreciative smile toward the man and tried to think of the best way to bring up him losing his job.

“Dig in before it gets cold.” Dean stated, startling the ex-angel out of his thoughts.

Cas looked down at his plate of food, and picked his fork up carefully.

“What is it?” He asked, eyes flicking up to the hunter.

Dean looked up from his own food before laughing and shaking his head, going back to his food. Cas tilted his head in confusion – that surely wasn’t the response he thought he’d get from the hunter.

“So Cas, anything interesting happen today?” Dean asked, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

Cas felt something roll down his back again and almost dropped the fork as his hands got unexplainably wet. He gripped it harder and tried to think of something he could tell the hunter without making him suspicious.

“N-nothing interesting.” Cas stammered.

“Yeah like I’m gonna believe that.” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“What happened? You get fired or something?” Dean joked, bumping his arm slightly.

Cas’ head shot up and he starred wide-eyed at the hunter, unable to think of a way to lie his way out of that. Dean looked at him and the smile slowly slid off his face as he noticed the man’s expression.

“Cas?” Dean asked in his ‘you better not lie to me unless you want me to beat the truth out of you’ voice.

“Yes?” Cas asked carefully, looking down at his food, avoiding the hunter’s eyes.

Did you get fired today?” Dean questioned, sliding his stool closer.

“Why would you ask that?” Cas was stalling, and he knew that Dean knew it too.

If he could, he would’ve popped out of the room, via angel-air but unfortunately that was no longer an option.

“Because no one reacts like that to something unless they’re hiding something from someone.” Dean explained.

“You said that working at a gas station was the easiest job ever, how would you think I could get fired from the easiest job ever?” Cas asked, still avoiding his eyes.

“Cas.” Dean warned.

The ex-angel looked up and finally met the hunter’s eyes, slightly surprised at the pissed tone he’d heard. Sure he’d heard it before but it’d never been directed at him. Dean’s face softened a bit and he gave a small, sad smile before reaching forward and swiping something off Cas’ cheek.

I’m crying? Cas thought, feeling his cheeks flare up again for showing how stupidly weak he was.

He’s definitely going to kick me out now. Cas thought bitterly, looking down to the floor, not wanting to see the change from disappointment to disgust on his face.

“Cas.” Dean breathed before standing up.

Here it comes. Cas thought, body tensing at the yelling he was waiting for.

Before he could process what was happening, he felt himself be pressed up against something warm and firm. It took a moment before he realized that the thing he was pressed against was Dean’s chest.

He’s going for pity? He should just get it over with. Cas thought, staying just as still as he always had been.

“It’s okay Cas.” Dean mumbled into the shorter man’s hair.

For some reason the ex-angel felt himself relax into the soothing circles being rubbed into his back. Part of him was wondering what the hunter was doing, part of him didn’t care and another part of him was wondering why his shirt was wet.

It took a moment for him to realize that he was crying into Dean’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears he didn’t know he was shedding.

“Sh, Cas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” The hunter cooed, voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Cas kept repeating, over and over, wishing he could just disappear.

He didn’t want to be here with the hunters anymore. They would definitely think he was weak now that he’d cried over losing a job. He was such an outcast he wondered why they bothered keeping him around at all. Now that he wasn’t angel he couldn’t fly them anywhere, or smoke enemies – he was just a baby in a trench coat.

After who-knows-how-long, Cas finally stopped crying into his shoulder, but they stayed in the position, even though the ex-angel was fairly certain that the position Dean was standing in couldn’t be comfortable, if anything it must’ve been hurting his back to hold the position for so long. Dean finally took Cas by the shoulders, holding him out at arms length, eyeing him with a concern he’d only ever seen be used to examine his brother.

“Dean?” Cas questioned, beginning to feel unnerved at how concerned the hunter looked.

“We’ll find you another job Cas, don’t worry about it.” Dean stated.

“Thank-you Dean, but I’m sure I’ll be able-”

“We’ll find you a job and get you back on your feet. As long as it takes.” Dean interrupted, still looking eerily concerned.

“Yeah, okay Dean.” Cas agreed, nodding his head slowly, wondering if something was wrong with the Winchester.

“I don’t ever want to hear that again you understand?” Dean demanded, suddenly sounding like his father.

“Hear what again?” Cas questioned, getting more confused the longer he talked.

“That you think we’d kick you out because you lost your job! You are not useless Cas! You kick serious ass!” Dean exclaimed, a proud smile splitting his face.

When did I…? Cas thought, looking curiously at the Winchester in front of him.

“Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who can read minds.” Dean winked, his smirk replacing the smile.

“Now” Dean clapped his hands and stepped back away from the ex-angel,

“Whaddya say I whip us up some burgers and we go watch Road Runner?” Dean asked, eyebrows raising suggestively at the man standing before him.

“But what about the…other food you made?” Cas asked, still not sure what he’d made.

Dean looked at the plates with a smile before grabbing them both and walking out of the kitchen, returning a few minutes later empty handed and grinning like an idiot.

“Burgers?”

“Dean, what did you do with the food?” Cas asked, nodding to answer his own question.

“Let’s just say Sammy got a little surprise.”


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Love Thy Freak

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Written: 14.07.03

Gen. Destiel/Sabriel fic.


“Damn it!” Dean swore, slicing through yet another vampire.

When Sam had told him that the nest was big, he didn’t think he’d meant it was big. What Dean had assumed was maybe ten, fifteen at the most vampires turned out to be closer to a number in the high forties. If he’d known Sam meant it was that big of nest, he never would’ve told him he could take it on alone.

The one thing that bugged Dean the most about this was if Sam knew the nest was this big, why did he let him go alone in the first place? Dean’d tell you why, it was because he told him he could take the night off to be with his damn angel. Easy as pie, Dean’d said, swearing up and down that he’d be back in before sunrise, so that he could hopefully have some down time with his angel.

Granted, Gabriel was sick so it wasn’t like Sam was having a good time either, but he still shouldn’t have let his brother go after them alone. What the hell was he thinking?

How does an angel even get sick? Dean thought, continuing to walk down the hall.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy. Nothing was ever that simple for them.

Damn it! Not the time! Dean decided, running in the other direction as he saw yet another two vamps come around the corner.

“Would be really nice to have some back-up!” Dean mumbled, eyes flicking up to the ceiling above him briefly.

He threw himself into a corner, pressed up against the wall and closed his eyes, holding his breath and wishing with all he had the vampires ran past him.

“You thought you could hide, Winchester?”

Of course, sometimes he wondered why God had the angels save him from Hell if he was going to practically die during the rest of his life. Was that really better than being filleted by Alastair downstairs? Why couldn’t they just throw him back down there now that the apocalypse wasn’t a go?

“Hide? Of course not.” Dean replied with his signature smirk as he took a couple steps away from the wall.

“I was just testing your walls, making sure they’re nice and solid.”

The vamps exchanged a look between them, that suggested they knew that Dean was talking out of his ass, before looking back to the Winchester and smiling, separating as the began to close in on him.

“Oh? And why would you care if they’re solid?” The one on his left asked, licking his lips as he did so.

“So that when I did this”, Dean heard before he saw the two vamps get thrown by an invisible force into the walls on either side, knocking them out cold, “he knew it’d hurt more.”

Dean blinked and looked at the knocked out vamps for a moment before looking to the figure standing directly in front of him, the spotty lighting making it almost impossible to see it’s face. Dean’s hand subconsciously tightened around the base of his machete, getting ready to kill whatever the hell it was.

“You won’t be needing that Dean, I assure you that I am of no threat.” The thing said.

It might’ve just been the ringing in his ears because he had already taken just about as many punches to the head as he could, but he could have sworn that that voice sounded at least somewhat familiar.

“Do I know you?” Dean asked cautiously, angling his body so his dominant hand was farther away, readying for a wind-up.

The thing (which Dean continues to call a ‘thing’ because he isn’t totally certain that it’s a human yet) tilted it’s head to the side and took a step closer. Dean tensed more (was that even possible?) and went to take a step back, cursing himself when his back hit the wall.

“You do not need to be afraid of me Dean. I came to help.”

“If you came to help you’d tell me who you were.” Dean scoffed back in response, looking around, trying to find a way to get passed the thing before him.

“You don’t know who I am?” The creature asked, and was that, hurt in its voice?

“Should I?” Dean asked, and some back part of his mind was screaming at him that yes, he did in fact know that voice.

If he was so certain he knew who it was, why couldn’t he place its voice? He knew he knew it too, maybe it was because he still had about twenty vamps on his ass?

Yeah, he’d go with that.

“Well, it’d be nice to play catch up with ya, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of surrounded by vamps, so unless you got some sort of nuclear explosive in there, I’d like to get moving.” Dean said, getting the sneaking suspicion that they were about to get ambushed.

Why did his brain always have to go to the worst case scenario?

Because if I don’t then something worse happens. Dean thought bitterly, walking forward a bit to check the doorway that was on his right.

“I came because you called.”

Dean stopped cold in his tracks and turned back to look at the thing standing before him.

How could I not…Dean thought, taking a few steps closer to the being in front of him, feeling his face flush at not recognizing the voice.

As he walked closer, the shadows shifted and allowed the hunter to finally look into the being’s eyes – their crystal blue eyes.

“Damn, Cas.” Dean groaned, running a hand down his face.

“It is alright Dean. Your mind was pre-occupied with not being a human feedbag. I understand your inability to recognize me in such dire conditions.” Cas explained, a ghost of a smile on his face.

How stupid am I? Should ‘a known it was him…Dean thought, mentally kicking himself.

“Dean, it’s alright.” Cas repeated, this time placing his hands on the hunters’ shoulders to emphasize his point.

“I can’t believe I thought you were a vamp.” Dean replied, shaking his head.

“We are still in the middle of a nest Dean, I suggest we clear it out before you lose your head.” Cas suggested, letting go of his shoulders to check up and down the hall.

“Yeah, right. Okay, let’s split up. I’ve checked most of this floor, so I’m guessing the rest of them are waiting up on the second.” Dean explained, instantly going back to hunter mode.

Cas nodded before disappearing back down the hall, leaving Dean to tackle the upstairs. Dean made his way quickly and quietly toward the stairs without an interruption, so he assumed his instincts were right and that the rest of the vamps were waiting for him on the second floor. He made his way up the stairs carefully, cursing himself as he took a step and it creaked loudly.

He waited there for a moment, expecting to see some vamps come by to check it out. When none came, he decided to keep going, figuring they didn’t want to get slaughtered too quickly. He made it to the second floor and saw an oddly empty hall stretched out before him, closed doors lining both sides.

Oh, great. Dean thought, looking across at the ten-something closed doors before him, trying to figure out what would be the best course of action.

He took a breath and walked silently over to the door closest to him on his left, standing against the wall, reaching his arm out slowly, before opening the door and bursting into the room.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” The vamp said as he was doing a sweep of the room with his eyes.

“You could’ve found me.” Dean replied, eyeing the creature carefully.

Unfortunately for him, there was a giant desk standing between him and the vamp, who looked oddly calm considering their current situation.

“Oh, what fun would that have been?” They replied, standing from their chair to walk around the desk.

“Will you calm down? I’m just here to talk.”

“If you wanted me here to talk then why’d you send half your nest downstairs to kill me?” Dean questioned, fingers clenching tighter around his machete.

“We didn’t see eye to eye on the matter. They were too excited about getting a Winchester into our grasp, weren’t seeing the bigger picture.” The vamp explained, pretending to examine the painting that was hanging from the wall in front of it.

“Bigger picture?” Dean asked, inching slowly closer to the creature, eyes not leaving it.

“I want to make a deal with you Dean.” It said, finally turning around to face him.

Dean looked at the creature surprised, not sure whether or not this was a trick.

“I will keep the rest of the vampires away from you and your brother, give you hunters one less thing to worry about.”

“What’s the catch?” Dean asked, eyes roaming over the creature, subconsciously looking it over for any sort of weapon.

“No catch.” It answered simply.

“Oh, c’mon, there’s always a catch.” Dean baited, looking at it incredulously.

“The only thing I’d ask in return would be for you and your brother to not come after us.”

“That’s a fair deal.” It stated at his scoff.

“You expect me and my brother to just let you continue murdering people and you’re asking me to be okay with that?” Dean asked, his tone implying how ridiculous he thought it sounded.

“Not be okay with it, just forget we’re here. As we will forget you and your brother. It’s a fair trade.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Dean said, before lunging for the vamp.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Dean.” The vamp replied as Dean was suddenly held back by two vamps who somehow appeared behind him.

“Cocky’s sorta in my nature.” Dean stated, winking at the one girl vamp on his right arm.

She rolled her eyes and twisted Dean’s hand, forcing him to let go of the machete. The Lead Vamp walked closer to them, bending to pick the object up, admiring it with a hint of amusement.

“Times are changing, Winchester. You should take his deal.” The vamp on his left sneered.

“You should shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Dean, Dean, Dean. Always so quick with the comebacks aren’t you? Maybe I should leave you alone, give you time to think about our deal, hm?” Lead Vamp said, taking Dean’s chin with his free hand.

“No way in Hell I’m letting a bunch of blood-sucking monkeys go.” Dean spat.

Lead Vamp frowned and let go of his chin, taking a few steps toward the door, pausing in it to look back at the hunter, one hand on the doorknob.

“Maybe they can help you reconsider my offer? It won’t stand forever.” He said before walking out, taking the machete with him as he closed the door.

As soon as the door clicked closed, the two vamps let go of Dean and spread out, forcing him back against one of the walls. Dean looked across to the desk, cursing has he saw that it wasn’t holding anything of use. He flicked his eyes back up to the vamps, who were getting closer, both smirking at him before the one male lunged for him.

Dean tried jumping out of the way but was caught by his ankle, making him go down hard, almost smashing his face into the floor. The female quickly sat on his back as the other one let go of his foot and stood up, smiling down at him. The girl lifted herself off him slightly, roughly flipping him over so he was laying on his back so he could see them.

“Poor little Winchester isn’t so tough now, is he?” She fake-pouted down at him.

“You’d be surprised.” He replied, eyes going to the male.

He was standing back down by his foot and picked it up in his hands, the girl sliding off of him from the force.

Great, I’m gonna be a freakin’ piñata. Dean thought as he felt the blood start rushing to his face as he was now being held completely upside down.

The girl came closer, so she was just close enough for her to touch him if she wanted to.

“What? Not gonna drink me?” Dean asked as he watched her.

“Trust me, baby, when I get through with you, you’ll be wishin’ I did.” She replied with a wink before she scraped her hands across his middle, using just enough pressure to leave marks.

“What about you, Tiny? You just gonna stand there and take orders from a woman?” Dean asked, twisting his head, trying to see the vamp holding him.

“I don’t take orders from a woman.” The vamp scoffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why does she get to have all the fun?” Dean continued, biting his lip when he felt her dig into his torso again.

“I’d shut your mouth if I were you.” She advised, her voice sickeningly sweet.

“Oh Hunny, I really can’t.”

“She doesn’t get to have all the fun!” The man exclaimed before throwing him head first into the opposite wall.

“You moron! Why’d you let him go?” The girl screamed, hitting her ‘partner’.

“He was mocking me!” He defended himself, gesturing to Dean, who was laying in a hump

“You let him go!” She shrieked, pushing the vamp backwards.

Dean groaned and rolled over slightly, judging the distance from the door to the two fighting vamps.

What are the chances…

He jumped upright and ran straight for the door, cursing when his hand slipped off the doorknob. He managed to yank the damn thing open before he crashed back down to the ground as one of the vamps tackled him again.

Damn it.

“Sammy, I’m sick.” Gabriel argued with a frown.

“Give me a second!” Came the angry response from the other room.

A moment later, the mentioned hunter came into the bedroom, holding a tray of food. He walked over and placed it across the angel’s lap before sitting down beside him, a hand on his blanket covered leg.

“How did you even get sick? You’re an angel.” Sam questioned, looking his boyfriend over carefully – he wasn’t entirely sure if he was tricking him or not.

“I don’ know, but I am. Id sucks.” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and coughing.

“That’s all the more reason for you to eat.” Sam stated, gesturing to the tray.

“Bud I’m not hungry.” Gabriel sniffed, looking down at the food with mild disgust.

“You have to try. Just a little.” Sam bargained.

“Sam, I’m an angel, I don’ ead food anyway.” Gabriel countered.

“Angels aren’t supposed to get sick either and that happened so maybe you have to treat this like you’re human. And that means eating.”

“Sam-”

“Damn it Gabriel! I will hold you down and force food down your throat if you don’t eat!” Sam yelled, standing up, nearly knocking the tray over.

The angel arched an eyebrow before sighing dramatically.

“Fine’d.”

He leaned forward and picked up the soup bowl, sniffing it before staring at it like he didn’t know what to do with it. Sam was watching from where he’d stood up, his heart breaking slightly as he realized he’d just kicked his baby while he was down. Gabriel just continued to stare at the bowl when it hit Sam and he sat back down.

“Do – you do know how to eat, right?” Sam asked, keeping his voice gentle.

“Sam, I wad here befo’e man wad created.” Gabriel responded, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Fine then, eat.” Sam stated, crossing his arms, looking at the angel expectantly.

“Samuel!”

Both boys looked to the doorway before back at each other, Sam was already on his feet before Gabriel’s approval. He walked out into the living room and gasped as he saw a bloody, bruised and almost unconscious Dean being held up by a very distressed and clearly beat up Cas, who was leaning heavily against the wall.

Jesus.

“Little help?” Cas asked, looking to the hunter with huge eyes.

Sam was across the room in a blink of an eye and took his brother from the angel, laying him down carefully on the couch, eyes scanning over his injuries.

“What happened?” Sam asked, looking back to the angel.

Cas went to take a step forward, but his knees buckled and if Sam had been a second slower, he would’ve face planted into the carpet.

“Thank-you.” Cas mumbled as he tried to push himself away from the hunter.

“What happened?” Sam repeated, helping the angel to go sit in a chair.

“We were in the nest.” Cas panted.

Sam helped the angel down and walked out of the room, returning a moment later with their first aid kit. He settled down on his knees in front of his brother, figuring he needed to be patched first.

“Why are you and Gabriel suddenly reacting to things like you’re human?” Sam asked, eyes not leaving his brother.

“I…don’t know.” Cas panted, watching the youngest.

“S’m?” Dean asked, rolling his head from left to right, visibly fighting to open his eyes.

“Sh, Dean, you’re okay. You’re safe.” Sam replied, squeezing his hand slightly in reassurance.

“Nest…big nest…” Dean slurred, still not opening his eyes.

“Yeah, Dean, it’s okay. You’re home, just go to sleep.” Sam replied, moving to start wiping the blood off his face.

Dean sighed and visibly relaxed at this news, before his breathing evened out and Sam knew he’d fallen asleep.

“So you were in the nest, and what happened?” Sam asked, eyes flicking up to the angel.

“We split up-”

“You split up in the nest? Why?” Sam demanded, suddenly enraged.

“Sam? What’d wid de yelling?” Gabriel asked sheepishly from the doorway.

“They split up in the nest!” Sam repeated, standing up.

“It was your brother’s idea.” Cas spat, glaring at the Winchester.

“Why would you agree to do that?” Sam asked bewildered.

“Jedus, Sammy, wid you led de man finid a sendence?” Gabriel asked, walking over to stand beside his brother.

“Sorry, I just – I should of gone with him.” Sam said, kneeling back beside the other hunter to finish wiping up the blood.

“It’d not your fauld.” Gabriel stated.

Sam continued to look after his brother in silence, not wanting to get into it in front of the other angel. Sure, he was dating his brother but, they still weren’t that close. Hell, he still called him by his full name.

“Cad, why’re you hurd?” Gabriel asked, looking his brother up and down.

“I don’t know.” He admitted.

“Why are you sick?” He asked, tilting his head in his signature ‘I don’t understand’ expression.

“I don’ know.” Gabriel sniffed, smiling slightly.

“So, adter you splid up, whad happened?” Gabriel asked.

“I went to go check out the rest of the house. I’d ran into another one. When I went to smite it, it didn’t work. It only grinned at me before another ten came at me.”

Gabriel looked to his boyfriend, surprised, what the hell was going on with them?

“I somehow managed to get away from them after a while and went in search of Dean. I found him getting beaten up by two others without a weapon. Once I fought them off, I transported us here.” Cas explained.

Sam got up off his knees and finally looked over to the two angels, now that his brother’s injuries were taken care of. He walked the few steps closer to the angels before kneeling down in front of Cas, starting the same treatment he’d given his brother.

“What do you think is happening to you guys? I mean, almost like you’re becoming human.” Sam asked, carefully watching their expressions.

“I don’ know Sammi’d bud id ducks.” Gabriel replied, looking like someone kicked his puppy.

Sam sighed and continued cleaning Cas up. The three of them were silent while he worked, all leaving the other to his own thoughts.

Sam got back up and threw away the blood covered garments and put the first aid kit away before walking back into the room, sitting cross legged on the floor between the couch and the chair.

“Whad’re we gonna do?” Gabriel asked, looking between the angel and his baby.

“I don’t know.” Sam sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his palms.

“What’s with the glum faces? I kicked some serious ass.” Dean stated, making his brother jump.

“Dean, are you okay?” Sam asked, turning to look at his brother.

“Yeah, Sammy I’m fine. But next time I go to a nest of forty-something vamps, you’re coming with me to get your ass kicked too.” Dean replied, smirking.

Sam’s face flushed and his mouth hung open slightly at the number his brother’d just spit out.

“F-forty?” He questioned, looking at him like he was insane.

Dean nodded and looked over to where the two angels were sitting, looking worried when he saw the cuts and bruises on Cas.

“Since when can they kick your ass?” Dean questioned.

“Since today, apparently. Same reason Gabriel’s sick.” Cas answered with a small shrug.

Dean let out a whistle and looked to the second angel, who nodded and sniffed, confirming the statement.

“Damn. Guess we gotta find new boyfriends, huh Sam? No use in keeping useless angels around.” Dean joked.

“You can dry to ged rid ob us, but I doubt you’d hab much luck.” Gabriel countered, smirking back at the hunters, winking at the youngest.

“You willin’ to test that, Archangel?” Dean shot back, a playful smile on this lips.

Gabriel proceeded to throw a pillow at him before falling off the chair with the force he put behind it, right into his hunter’s lap. Sam instinctively wrapped his arms around the shorter man and watched as Dean got up and picked a sleeping Cas out of the chair (sleeping? Oh yeah, something was definitely wrong) and laid him down on the couch, slipping in as carefully as he could behind him, wrapping an arm around his middle to keep him from hitting the floor.

“You mind?” Dean asked, obviously also close to passing out himself.

“No, go ahead Dean. I gotta get Mr. Sick-O over here back to bed anyway.” Sam agreed, ruffling the angel’s hair.

“Bud I’m nod dired.” Gabriel yawned, as if almost on cue.

“Too bad, you’re sick and you need rest.” Sam replied, carefully getting up off the floor, holding the man in his arms.

“Yed mom.”

“You sound adorable when you’re sick.” Sam stated, kissing his forehead as he walked into the bedroom.

“I can be mu’d more dan dat for ya.” The angel replied, winking as he was set down in the bed.

“Not while you’re sick.” Sam refused, going to walk away, only to be stopped by the hand on his wrist.

“You’re gonna lead me?” Gabriel questioned, raising his eyebrow.

“You’re not two.” Sam countered.

He sighed as he got the angel’s for force puppy dog eyes before kissing his hand, prying said hand off his wrist and walking around to the other side of the bed, sliding in beside him. The second he was under the covers, the archangel had wiggled himself as close as possible to the other man, nuzzling his face into the giant’s neck, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Night Sammi’d.”

“Night Angel.” Sam murmured, kissing the top of his head before drifting off to sleep.


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