Chapter Text
Four hours into the drive toward a non-destination, they make their first stop at a diner because Dean is hungry and tired and needs air that isn’t poisoned by his gloomy thoughts. He hasn’t forgotten the impending Apocalypse, but his current focus is on the two sleeping persons with him in the car.
He turns off the engine, glances at his watch (eleven) and takes a moment to glance Barnes and Cap. The silence during the drive had been more or less bearable, only disturbed by the occasional light snore from his passengers. If the way they nodded off within the first half hour was any indication, they had been waiting to ambush him at his Baby for a while. Dean’s not sure how to feel about that.
Cap stirs first, a soft groan expressing his discomfort from sleeping in an awkward position for a long period of time. He stretches as best as he can in the confined space.
After noticing the diner, he meets Dean’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. A couple slow, tired blinks, then his eyes widen a little.
“Dean? How long have you been driving?”
Dean shrugs, grins cheekily.
“Long enough to get hungry, Cap,” he answers, knowing it doesn’t tell much.
He sees Cap’s eyebrows furrow in contemplation before he turns his attention towards the other sleeping beauty, and he barely contains a jump when another pair of wide, blue eyes are looking back at him.
The corner of Barnes’s lips twitch in possible amusement at knowing he startled Dean.
Dean glares at him before exiting the car.
- - - - -
Somewhere along the very short walk from the parking lot to the diner, Dean has a belated internal freak-out at the fact that he’s about to treat Captain America and Bucky Barnes to a greasy diner breakfast.
As soon as they are seated—Cap and Barnes to one side of the booth and Dean on the other--Dean’s phone rings and he frowns slightly at Sam’s name. He had wanted to get some food into his stomach before tackling this long postponed conversation, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen. Steve notices and before he can voice his concern, Dean asks to order him a coffee and excuses himself quickly.
Sam had left a few voice mails while Dean had been out of commission, each subsequent one growing worried and agitated and hurt. Dean had listened to them on the drive and decided he would call back during the next stop where he could have the conversation in private.
Now, after receiving the call in the diner—of course Sam beat him to it—Dean tries hard keep his face emotionless and not to grit his teeth, in case he was being watched. His eyes absently rove over the parking lot as he stands outside the establishment, listening and not listening to another list of mistakes that make him a failure in the eyes of his younger brother.
When he glances at the windows next to their claimed booth to check on his present company, his hunched shoulders relax minutely when he discovers that the other two members are completely immersed in the diner menu.
“Dean, are you listening—”
“I get it, Sam,” Dean interrupts and his words continue, unbidden. “I would’ve asked for help if your priorities weren’t demon bitch-oriented.”
The silence that follows is cold, filled with held breaths; filled with anger and shame and regret.
Sam lets out a harsh sigh. “Fine.”
“Sammy, I’m—”
“I get it, Dean,” Sam repeats in a mocking tone, and then the line goes silent.
Dean doesn’t hang up until long after the dial tone.
- - - - -
There’s an orange juice waiting for him when he gets back.
The others are drinking their coffees like there isn’t something wrong here.
“Uh… where’s mine?”
Barnes wordlessly points to the juice.
“I thought I asked for coffee,” Dean says, turning to Cap.
“Dean,” Cap starts, and there is a gentle scolding in that single word. “You’ve been driving for a while without rest which you need and should also be drinking lots of fluids to keep yourself hydrated.” He nudges the glass of juice pointedly towards Dean. “Coffee is not an option.”
His face is one of worry and it makes Dean feel like a child who is throwing a tantrum, which is ridiculous because he’s a grown man. The eyes are too sincere in their expression and something twists uncomfortably inside his chest at the unfamiliar idea of being cared for. And the uncertainty makes him angry.
“Look, just because I let you along for a ride doesn’t mean you get to start telling me what to do. I know how to take care of myself,” he bites out.
But Captain America doesn’t waver under Dean’s scowl. If anything, he seems saddened by the words.
Of course; leave it to Dean to disappoint a superhero.
He’s thinking of a reply, still indignant, when out of the corner of his eye the glass starts to move away. His hand automatically shoots out to grab it, and it ends up wrapped around another rough, calloused one that is the culprit.
Dean looks down at his hand, confused, then follows the other hand up the arm to Barnes’s face, who’s still acting as if nothing’s wrong.
Barnes shrugs. “It’s not good to waste food.” He tugs it away from Dean’s loosened grip and takes a sip.
He knows he’s gaping, but Dean’s not sure what is going on. Barnes lifts the cup again, which spurs him to snatch it away before another drop makes it down that throat.
With that interruption over, juice in hand, Dean is at a loss. Anger is no longer fueling him, thrown for a loop by the weird tag-team effort from the other two. They both silently wait for his reaction, and he thinks briefly that two against one is completely unfair.
“It’s my juice,” he mutters.
Cap looks pleased, and Barnes returns to studying the menu.
Dean takes a drink.
It’s good juice.
- - - - -
Ordering takes a while since Barnes can’t decide what he wants.
“Hey, this isn’t the only diner, okay? You can order something else next time,” Dean says.
He doesn’t say it all that nicely, but his stomach needs food right now.
Then he realises what he just said. Implying that there will be another diner. That they will be around until then. When did he start hoping?
He pushes those thoughts away for now and is grateful that no one else seems to have questions about his words. They at least help Barnes make his final choice for breakfast.
They place their order: Cap with some muffin, yogurt and fruit crap, Barnes keeping it simple with pancakes, and Dean of course getting the greasiest thing they have on the menu, double portion.
Cap looks mildly disturbed.
It only worsens when Dean digs into his food with gusto. He’s not sure whether to be embarrassed or amused. Both, he decides.
Barnes appears to be enjoying his pancakes heartily. In fact, they might have to take away the syrup soon.
The waitress comes by every so often to refill their coffees.
Dean finishes his juice.