Chapter Text
Rowena showed up two days after Dean and Cas’ expedition to help Claire and Kaia. There was another hunter staying in the bunker and Dean hid a smile when the guy nearly jumped out of his skin at Rowena’s sudden appearance. Dean hadn’t bothered putting the warding back up until they’d concluded their business with her.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “she’s on our side. For now.”
Rowena smiled sweetly at the hunter. “Aye, don’t worry about little old me.” The hunter, Hayden, just grumbled to himself and headed off down the hall. “I wasn’t aware you had company.”
“Well, you didn’t call ahead,” Dean replied.
“What have you found?” Cas asked, cutting to the chase.
“A rat,” Rowena ground out through her teeth. “They thought they could go behind my back, that I had the same kind of weaknesses as my son. I soon proved them wrong.”
Dean shifted impatiently, crossing his arms. “As interested as I am in hearing all the ways you made them talk, we don’t exactly have a timeline on this whole spell series thing, so if you could get to the point.”
Rowena pursed her lips, but relented. “According to one of my traitorous demons, there’s a new witch in town.”
“Yeah, we got that,” Dean said, irritated.
“Well, I still don’t know what the spells are for, but I know where the next one is going down.”
Blah blah blah. “You gonna pay us for all this teeth pulling? Spit it out.”
Rowena gave him a sour look. “San Diego, California.”
“Great, and you got any idea what we’re gonna be looking for there?” Dean asked.
“Unfortunately, no.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Awesome.”
“You know, I could come with you and-”
“Not a chance,” Dean snapped. “If this witch is there do you really think we’re gonna let you anywhere near this spellbook?”
“After all I’ve done for you, do you really think I still have ulterior motives?” Rowena asked, sounding offended.
“Yes,” Cas said.
“Big time,” Dean agreed.
“Well dear, remind me never to die for you lot again. It’s a colossal waste of time,” she scoffed. “I’ll be in touch if I learn more.”
Rowena was gone in the blink of an eye, her new demon powers certainly serving her well. “Okay, so, road trip?” Dean asked.
“It might be better if we fly there,” Cas suggested.
Dean groaned. “Do we have to?”
The bunker door opened at that moment, announcing Sam and Eileen. “Have to what?” Sam asked.
“Dean is against flying to California to follow a lead Rowena gave us.”
“Dean’s always against flying,” Sam said.
“Quit ganging up on me,” he pouted, barely audible for anyone but Cas to hear. He was saved from more torment when his phone rang, Garth’s name flashing on the screen. “Hey, Garth, what’s happenin’?”
“Hey, Dean,” Garth answered. “I heard you got pulled from retirement, tough luck.”
“Meh, I was getting restless anyway.”
“Well, you really should come down and visit Bess and I more often, the kids are growing like weeds, you oughta see how little Sam was-”
“Garth,” Dean interrupted. “You called for a reason?”
“Oh, right, yes. I’ve been hearing whispers from an inner circle I’ve got going with other like minded wolves, you know we really should form a club-”
“Garth!” Dean snapped, man he really liked the guy and all but he did not know how to find a way to get from point A to point B without going through a million detours.
“Sorry! So, these whispers are saying that there’s a ‘new age’ coming and that we need to prepare for the hunt to come, whatever that means.”
“I do not like the sound of that,” Dean said, running a hand down his face to quell the anxiety rushing through him.
“I was thinking of going undercover, I could probably get some good information from some packs a couple states away.”
The idea was a good one, but Dean didn’t like putting Garth’s life at risk. As soon as the pack found out he wasn’t truly one of them, he’d be ripped to shreds. “Garth, you should worry about your family, we’ll handle this.”
“I can help, Dean. I’m not sitting this one out.”
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a puff of air. “Just, wait for us, okay? I’ll come see you and we can make a plan.”
“Oh, Bess will be overjoyed, you know she-”
“Bye, Garth.” Dean hung up before he could go on the next rant. “Okay, change of plans. I’m gonna go pay a visit to Garth. How do you and Eileen feel about California?”
Sam and Eileen exchanged looks and shrugged. “Let’s do it,” Eileen said.
“You sure? I know you two wanted to stay local, as much out of the life as you could. This’ll put you right back in.”
“We’re good, Dean,” Sam said.
“I can fly you both there,” Cas offered. “It would be in our best interest not to waste time traveling.”
“Yeah, sure, Cas,” Sam agreed. “Let us just get some stuff together.”
Five minutes later, they were ready to go. Dean pulled Sam into one of their rare hugs, clapping his brother on the back briefly before pulling away. “Stay sharp.”
Sam clapped him back. “Yeah.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Eileen promised.
“Call for backup if you need it,” Dean said.
Sam waved him off. “We will.”
Cas stepped up to each of them and then they were gone. Dean took deep steadying breaths as he waited for Cas to come back, luckily not having to wait long before the angel was reappearing.
“So, Garth’s?” Dean asked.
Dean insisted on driving. They weren’t heading out to an emergency so Dean felt there was no room for argument there. And Cas didn’t argue, simply letting Dean drive them up to Wisconsin, and not even insisting they stop. It was only a ten hour drive and Dean blared his music the whole way.
Dean was subjected to a bone-crushing hug from Garth the second the door was pulled open. “It’s so good to see you, hombre!”
“Yeah, you too,” Dean gasped out, trying to wrench himself free.
Luckily, Garth moved on from him once he saw Cas. “Hi, Castiel!”
“Um, hello,” Cas said, and Dean smiled as he watched Garth give him the same treatment.
“Come in, come in!” Garth ushered them inside and Dean was instantly assaulted by a tiny body slamming into his leg.
He didn’t know which twin it was, but he reached down and picked him up. “Hey, kid.”
The second twin ran right up to Cas, blue eyes peering up at him in curiosity. It occurred to Dean then that Cas wasn’t aware of the names of the children. Garth seemed to realize this too because he let out a small laugh. “Well, who’d have thought Castiel would run into Castiel.”
Cas squinted in confusion. “What?”
“Well, that’s his name,” Garth said, bending to pick up baby Castiel.
“You named… your child… after me?” Cas asked, perplexed.
“Yep!” Garth chirped.
“That is… flattering,” Cas said, and Dean could feel the confusion and deeply awed happiness coming from the angel.
Dean bounced baby Sam on his hip. “And this one’s named after Sam.”
Cas turned a sharp look of surprise on him. “So, is there not a child named after you?”
“Nah,” he said, smiling down at little Sam. Cas looked suddenly angry and Dean quickly feared that he was going to attack Garth for neglecting to name a child Dean. He put his hand out, grabbing Cas by the sleeve. “Woah there, cowboy. It’s cool.”
“Easy, hombre,” Garth said, holding up his hands. “We just figured Sam might want the rights to that name.” Cas seemed to relax a little, and Dean found himself stunned. He hadn’t thought about Sam and Eileen possibly having kids. The notion seemed strange. “Or you two, of course. Adoption is always an option!”
“I’m not naming a kid after myself,” Dean grunted, no way was he that pretentious. “But thanks, Garth.”
“Dean, Castiel!” Bess joined them with a smile. “Please, come sit down. We’re just about to start dinner.”
Dinner in a werewolves den consisted of lots of raw meat, with Dean served the only cooked hamburger. Although, he noticed that Gertie seemed to like hers at least slightly browned. Cas sat close to Dean, their thighs brushing under the table.
“So, tell me about this infiltration plan of yours,” Dean said, mouth full.
“Well,” Garth cleaned his fingers on his napkin. “I know there’s a harmless pack in North Dakota, a buddy of mine’s been wanting me to join with Bess and the kids. He keeps going on about how we gotta stick together, even more so now.”
“Because of this ‘new age’,” Cas intoned.
“Darn right. I wanna help where I can.”
“Yeah, but Garth, you’re supposed to be kinda retired too,” Dean said, he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if Garth got hurt or worse looking into this.
Garth shrugged. “And yet here we are all.”
“We have an in here, Dean,” Cas pointed out. “It would be foolish not to use it.”
Garth pointed a blood soaked finger at him. “Exactly. Castiel gets it, Dean. I’m not new to this job, I’ve been keeping my tabs on things. Bess and I took out a shifter in town about three months ago. We’re not idle.”
Dean swallowed a bite of his burger, uncertainty ripe within him. “Yeah, but Garth, look around, man. You’ve got kids to come home to. If those other wolves sniff you out, it’s over.”
“I’ll be careful,” Garth promised.
Dean wanted to laugh. Garth’s way of doing things was never careful and always unorthodox. “Well, I can’t exactly stop you. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Lighten up, amigo. Rook’s a good guy, helped us out when we were in a real tight bind with my business a few years ago. Vouched for me to some of his buddies and well, now Gert here’s got a college fund going.”
Dean could tell there was no reasoning with Garth about this anymore so he just smiled. “That's great, Garth.”
“Garth will have his tracker on at all times,” Bess put in. “We always make sure there’s other hunters in the area just in case anything goes wrong.”
Dean and Cas shared an unspoken exchange. “We’d be happy to come with you,” Cas offered.
“Oh you don’t have to do that!” Garth said.
“It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do,” Dean replied. “Sam and Eileen are working a lead in California, so we’d just be sitting on our asses at the bunker looking after drunk hunters.”
“Well, when you put it like that, why not,” Garth beamed. “It’ll be like old times!”
“Awesome,” Dean grinned back, albeit a little forced.
Dinner continued on. One of the twins (Sam) spat his food at Bess and Gertie fell off her chair from laughing so hard. Bess merely wiped away what she could and then picked up the offending toddler and settled him on her hip as she began to clear up dishes.
“Hey, we can do that,” Dean said, standing.
“Oh, no, Dean, that’s not necessary,” Bess waved him off. “You’re a guest! Why don’t you and Castiel go sit in the living room.”
“At least let us look after the little rugrats,” Dean said. “You’ve got enough to do.”
Bess looked like she might cry. “That’s very kind, thank you.”
Dean took Sam off her hands and that left Cas to pick up Castiel. Dean bit his lip on a laugh as the angel tried to mimic how Dean was holding Sam. “You got it, big guy,” he chortled.
“I once read many books on child rearing,” Cas said, “but I never had to put any of that knowledge to use.”
“When did you read books on child rearing?” Dean asked as they headed over to the couch.
“Before Jack was born. I had, of course, assumed he would arrive as any normal child would.”
“Yeah, that was a shocker,” Dean said, settling down on the cushions of Garth and Bess’ surprisingly very comfortable couch. He put baby Sam on the floor and watched the toddler beeline for a doll.
Baby Castiel seemed content to sit on Cas’ knee, staring at him calmly. “Children are remarkable, aren’t they,” Cas mused.
“I s’pose, yeah. Not that I’ve had much experience with them.”
“Would you like to?”
The question threw Dean off guard. He swallowed thickly, not able to look at Cas. “What, like… us, you mean? Having a kid?”
Cas turned his attention to the toddler on his lap, bouncing him gently. “I was just wondering if it was something you ever wanted, that’s all.”
Dean had been a parent to Ben, a long time ago. He tried to forget about that time, the memories were too painful and filled with guilt. He had enjoyed it, being someone a kid could rely on, who wanted to rely on him. That had been kind of a trip, knowing that Ben saw him as a role model and that Lisa was more than okay with that. He’d never thought of himself as the kind of guy someone would want as a parent.
He’d done his best with Sam and he was damn proud of how that kid turned out, damn proud, but he didn’t think he could do it again. He was so screwed up himself that he knew he couldn’t be the kind of father he wanted to be. And yeah, he’d thought about it; ‘course he had. He used to dream about having a normal life away from hunting. It was a far-fetched dream, he knew that, but he remembered being fourteen years old, watching a couple across a motel parking lot with a little kid who was laughing his head off as he swung between his parents, and wanting a future he knew he couldn’t have.
The life was always going to follow him, he knew that much. If his failed retirement was any indication, there was truly no getting out. He couldn’t subject a child to that sort of burden. He’d failed there with Ben and Lisa and he was not gonna make that mistake again. They’d had a normal life before he came along, and now he bore their scars while they tried for normal again. Man, he hoped they had normal.
There had been Cassie, too. The only girl he was ever truly in love with. Love with Cassie had hit him sharp and quick, like someone had smacked him on the back of the head and said, ‘Hey, look what you’ve got right here, isn’t it perfect?’. And it had been. For those few short weeks, it had been everything Dean had wanted out of his life. Of course, then he’d opened his big fat mouth and told her what he really did for a living and that dream died fast. From then on it was hookups in backwater bars, no strings attached, no risk to his damaged heart.
That was until Castiel.
Nothing about him and Cas was simple. There was a lot of complicated history there, most of it lined with blood. It wasn’t the happily ever after he’d imagined at fourteen at that motel, but if he’d learned one thing on the job it was to embrace the unexpected. Cas had wormed his way into Dean’s stubbornly shuttered heart and there’d been nothing he could do to stop it. Thinking about a future with Cas had always only included them together. Maybe if he was younger they’d have a couple pairs of tiny feet in their way too, but right now he just wanted to cherish what he already had.
“I like it just us,” Dean said. He looked at Cas, then, “Unless you want kids.”
“I find I’m indifferent to the matter, but if you had wanted children I would’ve been very happy to raise them with you.”
Dean tried not to blush and failed. “Thanks, Cas. But you don’t gotta worry, I’m not cut out to be a father.”
“I disagree. You are excellent with children.”
Dean knew that. He had a soft spot for kids, mainly the troubled ones, ‘cause he understood ‘em. He was them. And he didn’t want them to turn out like him. “Maybe other people’s kids. If I had ones of my own I’d screw ‘em up.”
“Every parent ‘screws up’ their kids, Dean. You met my siblings, and our father was God.”
Dean scoffed. “Yeah, talk about deadbeat dads.”
“You are not your father, Dean. And I am not mine.”
Dean had tried for half his life to be like his father. He wanted to drive his car, listen to his music, put the fear of God into the monsters he hunted, and he did. He was always ‘John’s boy’ and if ever a monster had heard of his Dad, they’d also heard of him. His hands were not meant for kindness. He barely knew how to use them for love when he held onto Cas in their bed. He couldn’t hold a child with those same hands and hope not to turn them down the path to their own gruesome death. He’d led his own daughter there already.
“I had a kid, you know,” he said, the memory of Emma wasn’t one he looked at if he could help it. She might’ve been half Amazon but she was also half his.
“What?”
“Yeah, uh, it was during your amnesia stint as Emmanuel,” he said as he watched baby Sam toss the doll he’d been playing with on the ground in favor of a dump truck. “A one night stand with a woman who turned out not to be human. Next thing I know she’s got a grown teenage daughter within three days, knocking at my door saying I’m her father.”
“What happened?” Cas asked, voice soft.
“Sam shot her.” Yeah, he wasn’t sure if he ever really forgave Sam for that. It was a whole pile of mixed feelings.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, she was gonna kill me.” Even if he was sure he could’ve gotten her to see sense if he’d had just a little more time.
“Still, she was your daughter,” Cas sympathized.
Dean nodded, blinking away mist that had spread across his eyes. “I know. That’s kinda why I can’t do that shit again.”
“I understand. It’ll be just us, then.”
Dean couldn’t stop himself from leaning across baby Castiel, who had now tucked himself between Dean and Cas on the couch, and kissing his Cas. “Good.”
~~~
Dean was in no way thrilled about letting Garth chum it up with other werewolves, but he supposed he would have to let it happen if they wanted any intel whatsoever. He and Cas were shacked up in a motel about four miles from the wolves’ den, which was in a barn off the main road.
Dean paced the floor while Cas sat quietly at the table. “He’ll be fine,” Cas said.
“He’s an idiot on a good day,” Dean retorted. “I wouldn’t hold out much hope.”
“Have you heard from Sam?”
Oh, clever angel, bring up his brother to take his mind off Garth. “No, you?”
“Eileen prayed to me a few hours ago, said they were going to check out a warehouse.”
Dean stopped in his tracks. “And you haven’t heard from either of them since?”
Cas was unfazed by Dean’s outburst, which was to be expected, Dean had outbursts at least three times a day. “I’m sure they’re fine, Dean.”
“You can’t know that,” Dean objected. He dug in his pocket for his phone. “I’m calling Sam.”
Cas was beside him in a heartbeat, his hand covering his. “Dean, that’s not wise.”
“The hell it’s not.” He tried to pull free but Cas didn’t relent.
“Sam or Eileen will pray to me if there’s trouble. Statistically, it’s highly unlikely that both of them would be rendered inept at the same time.”
“Oh and you’d know all about the statistics for this particular hunt, would you?”
“If you would like me to bore you with the mathematics of it all, I can,” Cas said, finally letting go of Dean, but keeping his phone. He knew Cas was probably right, he was an angel after all.
He took a few paces away, shaking out his hands which itched to leave Garth to the literal wolves and make Cas fly them to Sam. “Okay, I get it. I trust you,” he finally ground out.
“Good,” Cas replied, holding out his phone.
Dean snatched it back and checked his messages instead, which were none. The last text he had was from Garth thirty minutes ago saying ‘going dark’ with an emoji of a wolf. “Dude, I can’t just wait around here, let’s go to a bar or something. I need a drink.” He didn’t wait for Cas to respond, just grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
The place they found was called Hen’s and he posted up at the bar with Cas beside him. “Two beers, dealer's choice,” Dean ordered.
Cas looked around the place, a small scowl on his face. “Why do you like places like this so much?”
“‘Cause it’s got booze and I don’t have to hear myself think,” Dean replied as the bartender put a lager in front of him. She was a pretty brunette with tattoos everywhere, the kind of woman Dean might’ve hit on when he used to be single.
Cas glowered at her as she leaned in close to Dean, seeming to think Dean might actually be available. “You’re new around here,” she said, voice sweet like honey.
“I’m just passing through,” Dean replied politely, sipping his beer.
“Well, I could make your time worth it.”
A pulse of possessiveness came from Dean’s left and before he could let the girl down easy, Cas was snarling, “He’s taken.”
The bartender’s eyes snapped to Cas’ and where other people would be daunted, she just seemed even more interested. “Oh yeah? Well if you two need a third I’d be happy to jump in.”
“I do not share ,” Cas growled, rising to his feet.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Dean said. Even though he was enjoying the show, he also wasn’t looking to get kicked out of the place just yet. “Sorry about him,” he apologized to the bartender, shoving Cas back into his seat with a firm hand.
The bartender shrugged. “It’s fine, I’ve dealt with worse.”
Dean doubted that.
“Perhaps you should stop flirting with men while you work,” Cas glowered.
“Dude, chill,” Dean warned.
The bartender leaned in towards Cas, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Well, I would, but how else would I pass the time and ensure I don’t go home to an empty bed?” To Dean, she said, “He sure is smitten with you, he looks ready to take me apart, which, in other circumstances I would not be opposed to.”
Dean had to admire this girl’s boldness. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty smitten with him too, so I’m afraid you’re fresh out of luck tonight.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find some other willing body.”
She moved away to go deal with another customer and Dean turned to Cas, unable to hide his amusement. “I haven’t seen you look like you wanted to smite someone that badly in a while.”
Cas was still glaring after her. “I have never liked it when women try to get you in their bed, but now I don’t have to hide my distaste.”
“You jealous of all my past exploits, huh, Cas?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Cas’ blue gaze bore into him. “Yes.” Yep, that was one sure fire way to sport a hard on in public, and Cas’ eyes darkened when Dean shifted in his seat. “It pained me every time you went to have meaningless sex. Is that what you want me to say?”
“Good thing you got me now then,” Dean said, clapping Cas on the back and willing his dick to get under control.
Cas’ hand landed on his thigh, it was large and warm and Dean’s dick filled out even more. “A very good thing. Because if I had to continue to watch you go off with others, my resolve would have cracked sooner or later.”
“Well, we don’t want that,” Dean said, his mouth dry; he downed his beer to compensate. Cas watched him, hunger in his eyes. “Cas, if you jump my bones in this bar we’re gonna get thrown to the curb.”
“Then we should leave.”
Dean willed himself to think with his upstairs brain. “We just got here, drink your beer. I wanna order food.”
“Then we should find a real table,” Cas said.
“Why? We- oh,” Dean followed Cas’ gaze to see the bartender already flirting with another customer. “You really don’t like her, do you.”
“No.”
“Well, cool your jets. She’s just angling for a tip.”
“I don’t understand you humans and your culture sometimes,” Cas griped.
Dean waved over the overly friendly bartender, Gina, he learned was her name, and ordered another beer and some nachos. “Coming right up, hot stuff,” she said, winking.
A low sound came from Cas and Dean snorted in amusement. “Cas-”
“How can she still blatantly flirt with you when I’m right here.”
Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, squeezing gently. “You wanna mark your territory, then?” he said, parting his lips in a way he knew could only be an invitation.
Cas nearly pushed Dean off his chair from the force he attacked Dean’s mouth with. Dean hummed into the kiss, gripping Cas’ coat in his fist as the angel shoved his tongue down his throat. He let Cas have his way for a moment before he pushed him gently away, much to Cas’ protest.
“We’re still in public, Cas,” he said, breathless.
Cas was not the least bit fazed. “I would take you right here.”
Jesus, was his angel kinky or what? “Okay, uh, not that I wouldn’t be totally on board, but I don’t think everyone else in here is.” Cas looked like he didn’t care and was about to throw Dean on the bar counter anyway, so Dean steadied him with a promise, “You can do whatever you want with me later, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Dean didn’t doubt it.
His nachos arrived and he made Cas eat a few ‘cause they were really fucking good. Not that Cas could taste them, but it was something a normal couple would do and sue him if he wanted to spend one night being a little normal. After a few beers and a shot of whiskey, he started to feel a little tipsy. It’d been a while since he’d gotten drunk.
When he wasn’t retired, every night had been a drinking night. It helped him sleep and put off the nightmares for a few hours at least. But since he’d cozied up with Cas in their own place, he only had a few drinks a week when it got really bad in his head and he needed to check out. Now that he was back on the job, the urge to drink had come back in full force. It was like they went hand in hand, hunting and a bottle of Jack, like there couldn’t be one without the other. He knew it was pathetic that he carried around a six pack with him as a safety blanket, but he’d been drinking since he was like nine years old.
He’d hated it at first. It was bitter and it made his stomach hurt, but he’d seen his Dad slug back a cold one most nights and the desperate need to be like his father had overridden the bad taste. By the time he was fourteen, it was a habit. At sixteen he’d seen enough dead bodies and decapitations to make Jim Beam his best friend. He remembered being eighteen, sitting on top of Baby’s trunk after a hunt and his Dad had reached into the cooler and pulled out a beer.
“You earned it, son,” he’d said.
They went through a whole case of beer that night, laughing and recounting the events of the hunt; it was one of his good memories with his Dad. There might be a few snapshots of happiness while he had a warming beer in his hand, but there were the bad times too. The times when his father would come stumbling into their motel room, blood crusting at his jacket, face drawn back into a stricken expression, ruled by alcohol. It usually meant one of two things, the hunt went bad and he lost a few people to whatever thing had been doing the killings, or it was the anniversary of something relating to his mother. All Dean knew was that he had to duck a few punches and get his Dad into a cold shower, making sure Sam stayed out of the way. His Dad never gave him a lick of thanks in the morning, only grumbling about a headache and then he would pop an aspirin and say he was going out.
When Dean first turned legally twenty one, he took himself to a bar, not unlike the one he sat in now, and he occupied a barstool until closing time; his Dad had promised to bring him himself, but that promise had fallen through when he’d gone off on a hunt without him, leaving Dean to make sure Sam kept going to school while he was gone. He didn’t even have the decency to wake Dean up in the middle of the night and invite him along.
Now, though, all Dean knew was that drinking eased the coil of tension he carried around like a shadow. Maybe he should be more concerned about how he’d followed in his father’s footsteps with this too, but he’d given up trying not to let parts of his father stick to him. John Winchester might be dead, but his worst qualities lived on in Dean.
“Do you think you’re like your Dad at all?” Dean slurred, his head coming to rest on Cas’ shoulder.
Cas peered at him in the dull haze of the bar. “No. I think I wanted to be, once. But once I’d learned God had abandoned us, I wanted to strip myself of him.”
A puff of air that smelled strongly of beer rolled out of his mouth. “‘M like my Dad.”
“I thought we’d discussed that you weren’t,” Cas said.
Dean shook his head, holding in a belch. “Nah, I am. I jus’ got his bad habits. I think he saw it too, ‘s why he didn’ like me ‘s much ‘s Sammy. Di’ you know I can count on one hand how many times he told me he was proud of me?”
Something that looked suspiciously like murder appeared in Cas’ eyes. “Screw your father, Dean. You don’t need his approval. I’m proud of you, for everything you’ve done that makes this world a better place.”
Dean hummed, his eyes slipping shut. “I wonder what he’d think abou’ me bein’ with an angel.”
“All due respect to your complicated feelings about your father, but if he had a problem with it I’d kill him,” Cas said, full of conviction.
Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but a big part of him thought it was good. “He tried, you know.”
“Not hard enough.” Cas moved his arm, the very one Dean was nestled against, and it sent him careering forward into the angel’s lap. Cas caught him easily. “We should get going, you’re very drunk.”
“‘M not that bad, this is nothin’.” But still, Dean let Cas guide him off his stool and then he dug in his pocket for some bills, tossing them on the counter (even with his vision blurring he knew he left a more than generous tip). Cas glared at it. Dean patted the angel’s chest, with a lot less coordination than he hoped, but he still made contact. “She’s workin’ hard, and she’s not leaving here with me, you are.”
“I still don’t like enabling her behavior,” Cas grunted.
“Leave her be, come on tough guy, save your smiting for the real monsters.” Dean took one step towards the door and pitched forward, stumbling. Cas’ arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up, and Dean let himself be half guided half carried by his very strong angelic not-boyfriend-boyfriend.
Outside, Dean realized that they’d driven here. Cas also realized this because he just stood, frozen, staring at the car. “I can fly us back to the motel and then we can come get the car in the morning,” he offered.
“If you fly us anywhere, ’m gonna puke,” Dean warned. “‘S fine, you can drive.”
“Dean, are you sure?”
Dean fumbled for the keys, almost dropping them before he managed to hold them out. “Mhm.”
“I could also remove the alcohol content from your body,” Cas said.
“Nah, this ‘s more fun.”
“Why is that?” Cas asked as he took the keys gingerly from Dean.
Dean offered Cas his most charming, flirtatious, all around dirty smile. “‘Cause I bet you look hot behind the wheel of my car. An’ ‘sides, ‘s abou’ time ya drove ‘er anyway.”
Dean didn’t miss the way Cas’ eyes turned glassy. “Thank you, Dean.”
Soon he was being bundled into the passenger seat and the familiar rumble of Baby’s engine made him sigh in contentment. He smiled, resting his head on the top of the bench seat as he breathed in the smell of old leather and beer stains. Cas did look hot behind the wheel, concentration showed in every muscle of his face, as if driving Dean’s car safely was the most important mission he’d ever been assigned.
“You can give ‘er a little more gas, she’s not gonna break.”
Cas glanced at Dean, apprehensive. “I don’t want to take any risks.”
Dean slid across the seat, his lips brushing against Cas’ neck. “Well aren’t you a little angel.”
He didn’t push any further, just settled in next to Cas as he white knuckled the steering wheel and checked both ways at a stop sign (three times) before moving. It was nice, Dean decided, that Cas cared so much about getting them back to the motel without a scratch. He was pretty sure Baby hadn’t been driven to obey the rules of the road in a long time; trust an angel to do things by the book.
When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean was half asleep. Cas gently jostled him and he tried his best to put one foot in front of the other but Cas ended up basically lifting him into their room. He stumbled to the bed, collapsing face down on the mattress with a groan. Hands worked at his boots, popping one off and then the other, and then his legs were being swung fully onto the bed. A moment later the mattress dipped as Cas sat down.
Dean cracked open a bleary eye, a thought suddenly coming to him, “What’s the deal with Thursday?”
Cas tilted his head. “What?”
“Well, you’re the ‘Angel of Thursday’ so, what, you like, own the day or something? Did you hafta fight other angels for it? Oo, was it like a sudden death sorta thing?”
Cas chuckled softly. “No, Dean, nothing like that.” A sigh escaped the angel and Dean looked at him curiously; a small smile tugged at his lips as memory seemed to flash to the surface. “In the old times, Biblical times, people used to pray to me for a multitude of reasons, but it was mainly if someone was dealing with illness or injury, or if they wished for the strength to help with disagreements with enemies or friends alike.”
“Wow,” Dean breathed, eyes wide. “Did you answer them?”
Cas nodded. “Yes, sometimes. If it was within my power to heal or help then I would. But there were also rules I had to follow.”
“Heavenly rules,” Dean guessed.
“Yes. Like Noah for example.”
“Noah’s Arc, Noah?” Dean asked, awed.
“He prayed to me a few times, begged me to help him end the conflict between himself and his neighbors.”
“Right, yeah, they thought he was crazy for building the Arc, right?”
“Mhm, he faced severe scorn from them. It broke his wife’s heart to watch and she too would pray to me. But I had my orders. This was a prayer I was not allowed to answer.”
“Was that hard for you?”
“At the time, no. I was Heaven’s soldier, I didn’t question my orders.”
Dean grinned, scooting closer to Cas on the bed until he was resting under his chin, looking up at him. “Yeah, you really did used to do whatever they said. ‘M glad I got that stick outta your ass and replaced it with something better.” He winked.
Cas rolled his eyes, but his fond smile betrayed him. “Go to sleep, Dean.”
“But you didn’t tell me how you got the title,” he protested.
“God, Dean. God gave all of us our titles, wrote them into our coding and we existed to be just that.”
Dean frowned into Cas’ chest. “So there wasn’t a battle royale?”
Cas shook with quiet laughter under him. “No.”
“Well, you woulda won anyway if there was,” Dean declared.
“Your faith in me is flattering.”
His eyelids were drooping, and Cas was warm, the alcohol still muddling his brain. “You’re the only thing I got faith in,” he slurred, in something that might’ve been a whisper’s third cousin twice removed, it was so quiet, and then he was out.
~~~
Hangovers were a bitch.
Man, he hadn’t drank like that since…nope, not thinking about that. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up, which was a mistake as his head decided to start an orchestral concert consisting of only the brass section. It was then that he noticed he was alone in bed.
“Cas!” he called out, immediately awake, headache be damned. He scanned the room with bleary vision but the angel was nowhere to be seen. Panic seized him, constricting his chest, worst case scenarios passing through his thoughts. “Cas,” he prayed. “Castiel, wherever you are-”
“I’m here, Dean.”
Cas appeared holding a to-go cup of coffee and a bag with Mel’s Bakery stamped on it. “You seriously need to learn how to leave notes,” Dean grunted as he stood up, swaying a little.
“I had hoped to be back before you woke up, apologies.”
“Yeah, whatever, give me that.” He snatched the coffee from Cas’ hand, taking a glorious sip of the rejuvenating liquid.
“I have news,” Cas said as he set the bakery bag down on the table. “Sam called.”
Relief spread through him. “Okay, great, what’d he say? Did they catch the witch?”
“No. They didn’t even get close. Sam said there was some sort of barrier spell, he and Eileen couldn’t cross it, or see through it.”
“So, I’m guessing the next part of the spell was done then?”
“Yes, once the barrier spell wore down Sam said they found five bodies. All vampires.”
Dean nearly choked on his coffee. “What kind of spell calls for vampires?”
Cas shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know.”
“So, what? We’ve got virgins and vampires, what’s next, chupacabra?” Dean peered into the bag Cas had brought, locating a chocolate chip muffin and an egg sandwich, extra bacon. “I mean, how the hell are we supposed to stop these spells if we don’t even know what they’re for?”
“We do know one thing,” Cas said as Dean took a large bite of the egg sandwich. “All the sacrifices being made have so far been in groups of five.”
“And that’s meaningful?”
“Yes. The number five in relation to witchcraft has a heavy history with dark magic.”
Figures. They never could catch a break. “Oh, well that’s just awesome. Not that I expected this witch to be casting spells to solve world hunger or anything, but why’s it gotta be dark magic? Keeping Rowena in check is bad enough and now we’ve got another witch on our radar. I don’t like it.”
“Sam and Eileen are going to stay in the town for another day or two and see if they can find out anything else about the spell.”
Dean shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth and started unwrapping the muffin. “Wait, they were there when the spell went down, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, did they see anything? Flashes of light, explosions, people acting strange?”
Cas shook his head. “No, Sam didn’t report anything like that.”
Dean was tired of things not making sense. What happened to plain and simple? “Well then what the hell, man? Magic is usually big, especially dark magic. Feels like we’re going in blind here.”
“We’re going to have to hope this witch shows her hand soon.”
“Yeah, and I don’t know how happy I am about possibly being on the receiving end of whatever’s going on.” His phone buzzed on the table, Garth’s name lighting up the screen. Dean fumbled for it, swiping to answer and leaving a smear of chocolate behind. “Garth, what’s up?”
“I’ve got something.”
