Chapter Text
Castiel’s hand were gently tapping out the rhythm of the song playing on the radio on the steering wheel as they stopped at a light just before the on-ramp to the highway that led home. He glanced over to the passenger seat, a faint smile coming to his lips at the way Dean sprawled there, arm bracing his head against the window, settled back into the seat as though it were a throne. Catching his glance, Dean gave a small, puzzled smile.
“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing up as the light changed the Castiel pressed down on the accelerator, moving them into the turn that would take them home.
Cas gave a small smile in return before moving his eyes back to the road.
“Tonight was nice,” he said. “I’m glad you invited me along.”
Dean’s plush lips pulled into a grin.
“C’mon, man. Of course I did. Family dinner, right? Just like Ma said,” he responded. He loved this, the quiet moments between them when he didn’t have to think about what others thought, what others might see. When Dean could just be Dean; Cas gave him that freedom. No one else ever had.
Because all the things that Dean had never told his family, all of his secrets, they weren’t just his anymore. Cas knew them, knew about them all, and for the first time in his life, Dean knew he didn’t have to be the strong one, the one to take care of everyone all of the time.
Dean could break, and he would have Castiel to catch him. Sharing all of that with his family had been hard, but the end result was worth it.
“I didn’t realize things with Sam were as bad as they had gotten,” Cas spoke up gently, drawing Dean out from his own thoughts. Eyes still on the road, he sighed. “I guess I should have. As much as you talked about him, I would think we’d have met before tonight, if everything was going well.”
Dean sighed, happiness leaching from his mind for a moment.
“I should have said,” he replied. “I don’t think I wanted to really deal with it. But, hey, ya know what? Before he left, he got Bobby’s number from my dad. Not his home number, his work number. So that’s a good sign, right?”
Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Bobby with the law firm? Your dad’s sponsor?”
“Yeah,” Dean replied, nodding. “Maybe he’s thinking about cutting out some time at that place he’s working at, picking up some charity cases, or… shit. Son of a bitch. Do you think maybe he relapsed?”
Dean straightened in his seat and pawed at his pockets to retrieve his phone, paging through his contacts to find his brother’s number. It had been so long since they were on a call-a-day basis that he didn’t know the number offhand, and it was buried alphabetically in his contact list.
“Shit. I knew I should have kept up on him, I knew he might not be able to kick it the first time…!” he panicked aloud. He didn’t even notice Castiel pulling the car over and taking the phone from his hand. “Cas, what…?” he started, green eyes wide with the raw fear and automatic protective mode that Castiel saw crop up whenever something threatened the people Dean cared about.
“Dean,” Castiel said quietly, dropping the other man’s phone into his own pocket. “He’s fine. It’s fine. Sam didn’t seem as though he was taking anything, did he? He looked healthy, ate fine, right?”
“Yeah, but Cas,” Dean started, reaching out for the phone.
Castiel closed his own hand over Dean’s, twining their fingers together and squeezing them tightly against his palm.
“It’s not on you to save the world, Dean. Or Sam.”
Dean sighed. They’d had this conversation before. “I know, Cas, but…”
“Sam is fine, Dean. He’s fine. And we’re going to see him in just a couple days, and you’ll see that for yourself,” Castiel intoned, voice taking on a commanding tone. “Let’s go home.”
Dean took a deep steadying breath. He felt lighter, felt the panic slipping away. Cas was right – he almost always was. Sam was a grown man and it wasn’t up to Dean to ensure his safety and success, not anymore. Once upon a time, a young Dean Winchester had taken it upon himself to patrol the upstairs hallways of his family home with a baseball bat late into the night, after his father had left. Someone had to keep his mother and Sammy safe.
But Dean knew now that it wasn’t him. Sam would find his way. Maybe, he already was.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, hand still clasped in Castiel’s even as the other man restarted the car and pulled back out onto the highway. The flickers of passing headlights flashed across them as they went, flickers of flame sparking behind Dean’s closed eyes as they went. Castiel had turned down the radio but still hummed along to the soft sound of a Stones ballad as it played, and Dean smile to himself; when they’d met, Castiel had hated his music, but it grew on him, just as Dean had.
Opening his eyes and smiling slyly, Dean unlinked their fingers and moved his palm to rest on Castiel’s thigh, casually at first and then inching just higher as they drove.
“Knock it off, Winchester,” Castiel warned.
Dean laughed. “Hey, its still early,” Dean protested. “We should go out somewhere, celebrate.”
“We both have classes tomorrow, Dean,” Castiel responded, shaking his head. “And we need to get all this food your mother sent home and in the fridge, before that ice cream you snuck out of the freezer melts all over the trunk.”
Dean sighed. “Yeah yeah, I guess you’re right,” he grumbled. They made another few miles in quiet, only the sounds of traffic and the blathering of radio commercials breaking the silence, when Dean spotted a sign they had passed dozens of times and even talked about now and again. It was easily three feet tall and eight feet wide, perched atop a high signboard that looked as though it once carried the logo of a fast food restaurant. The building beneath it was brightly lit, beckoning out into the night.
“Hey, Cas, pull into this lot,” Dean said suddenly, sitting up straighter. Castiel gave him a curious glance, but did as he asked, parking the Impala right beneath the huge sign that read ‘TATTOOS’.