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"There are times that I think he doesn't understand me at all."
That was what his little brother had said. And, ironically enough, that was what Dean had confided in his own brother not too long ago. Then again, it was only logical. The Winchester was a human, ergo, his perspective was different from an angel's. The only way he would probably understand was if he were an angel himself. Conversely, the only way his brother could understand humans was if he were human himself.
Gabriel stopped that train of thought, then grinned as the idea formed in his mind. And since there was no Sam Winchester to tell him that the idea was probably bad, he just held up his hand, then snapped.
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Dean opened his eyes with a sigh, then groggily got up. He would have preferred to sleep in, since the brothers didn't have any actual hunting to do this time around, but he had promised Sam to help with the archives like an idiot. So, his plan was to get dressed, go to the kitchen and have some coffee and then, once he was a bit more alert, he'd be able to think of some kind of excuse to get out of the particular chore.
He opened the wardrobe, picked a T-shirt and a matching flannel and put them on, only to frown at the next moment. Was it him, or did the clothes seem to be just a bit more loose? Sam probably put them in the wrong programme and ruined them. Dang it.
Still, he didn't have the patience to look for anything more fitting so, once he put on his jeans and boots, too, he headed for the kitchen, where he started preparing the coffee with experienced ease. A part of him registered that the cupboard was just a bit higher and that he wasn't wearing his watch (when he opened the cupboard, he noticed the practically naked wrist). That, however, was probably an indication that he needed his coffee and he needed it now.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears and he looked over his shoulder, seeing Sam walking in.
"'Morning," he declared.
He didn't notice Sam stopping on his tracks, staring at him. "Um... morning," he said. "Is everything okay?"
"Sure, peachy, why wouldn't they be?"
"You're... different."
"Haven't had my coffee yet."
"I... don't think it's the coffee," Sam said. "Cas, why are you dressed like that?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Dean turned around and looked at his brother. "What did you call me?"
"Uh... Your name?"
Dean stared at Sam for many long moments, then looked at his hands... which he now realised they weren't calloused from handling firearms. And his arms shouldn't look that different. Or his chest...
"...Give me a minute," he declared, and he made a beeline for the bathroom... just as the door opened to reveal himself walking out. Dressed in a suit and a long beige trenchcoat no less.
The trenchcoat-wearing Dean cocked his head, then narrowed his eyes and stared at him intently, before blinking in confusion. "Dean..."
"...Cas?!"
Sam appeared on the scene, only to see the flannel-wearing Cas still staring at the trenchcoat-wearing Dean; then let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Right, I think we all three need to sit down and have a long talk."
“What’s there to talk about?! We got Freaky Friday-ed!” the flannel-wearing Cas said.
“I do not recognise the reference, but considering the context of our situation, I’m going to trust that it’s been aptly used,” the trenchcoat-wearing Dean said, before turning to Sam. “I believe I know who is behind this unexpected switch.”
“You do?” Sam asked, frowning.
Thirty minutes later, Sam, Dean and Cas were gathered in the meeting room, all but glaring at a pretty pleased-with-himself archangel.
“Lay off the negativity. You two wanted to understand the other better,” was all he said in his defense.
Dean-Cas let out a sigh. “Gabriel, when I confided in you, I didn’t do it in the expectation that you’d do this.”
“Well, good, you can thank me later,” Gabriel said.
“I’ve got a counter offer. How about you switch us back and I don’t kick your ass?” Cas-Dean said.
“Relax, I don’t intend to keep you like this forever,” the archangel said, rolling his eyes. “Just until you understand one another.”
“I do not see how we’re meant to accomplish that to your satisfaction,” Dean-Cas said.
“Go on a hunt together,” Gabriel said, shrugging. “See the other’s strengths, weaknesses. Learn from that.”
“...Come to think of if,there’s a werewolf wandering by some farmhouses in Jackson County,” Sam said then.
“Great. Three-step routine job. Find, shoot, bury. You can handle it,” Gabriel declared, holding up his hand.
“Don’t...!” Cas-Dean said.
Too late. Gabriel snapped and both the flannel-wearing Cas and the trench-wearing Dean were in the middle of the countryside.
“Son of a bitch!” Cas-Dean exclaimed.
Dean-Cas simply stretched a hand, just in time to catch a leather jacket, and then handed it to Cas-Dean.
“It’s 50 degrees out here. You need it,” Dean-Cas explained, answering Cas-Dean’s look.
Cas-Dean took the jacket, then put it on. It did feel better, admittedly. Even so...
“I could use a gun too, thanks!” he cried to the heavens.
The heavens responded, and a gun appeared in his hands.
“...Thanks... But that doesn’t mean I forgive you for the switcheroo!” he called out to the heavens again.
“Dean...”
“What?” Cas-Dean snapped.
“...I apologise. This was never my intention.”
Cas-Dean frowned. “No, man, I know. I’m not blaming you for this.”
Dean-Cas nodded weakly and put his hands in his pockets. “We should locate that werewolf.”
“Right. This should be easy enough. We just follow the stench of wet dog,” Cas-Dean declared.
“That’s not how werewolves smell...”
Cas-Dean gave him a pointed look.
Dean-Cas made a small ‘oh’ sound. “Deadpan derision. I understand.”
“...You know, this is kinda creepy. Hearing myself all stoic and collected,” Cas-Dean said.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Is that why you told Gabriel that I don’t understand you?”
Dean-Cas let out a long sigh. “That was... frustration from my part.”
“Why?”
“Because you hurt yourself in our previous job. You could have died, Dean. As good a warrior as you may be, you’re nevertheless human.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have the exclusive on getting myself killed,” Cas-Dean muttered.
“I still don’t die as easily.”
“Neither do I. So a little more trust would be appreciated, okay?”
“Dean...”
“What?”
Dean-Cas didn’t reply. At the next moment, he pushed Cas-Dean aside, and not a moment too soon. The werewolf lunged at them, teeth bared and claws ready to slash its potential victims. Dean-Cas instantly let the angel blade slide onto his palm and he set himself into a fighting position.
The first thought that crossed Cas-Dean’s mind as he watched himself ready to fight was that he looked badass and maybe he should wear a trenchcoat more often. The second thought was Cas was in trouble, because it was then that a second werewolf appeared.
“Cas! Get down!”
Dean-Cas saw himself holding up his gun, blue eyes narrowing as he took aim, and then ducked. Two gunshots rang out, followed by the long howl of one of the werewolves being shot down. But he didn’t have time to wonder on that for long. The first werewolf only became angrier and lunged at Cas-Dean, tackling him onto the ground. Cas-Dean tried to fire again, but the gun was only knocked out of his hand. Gritting his teeth, he still tried to fight back nonetheless, but the werewolf was having none of that. It opened its jaws, ready to sink its teeth on flesh...
It never had the chance. Dean-Cas used his powers to fling him away from Dean, then threw the blade straight into the creature’s chest. The creature let out a long howl, then collapsed face first on the ground.
Dean-Cas narrowed his eyes, peaking his senses to make sure there wouldn’t be an unpleasant surprise in the form of a third werewolf, but everything was calm once more. He dusted himself, making sure his trenchcoat hadn't got too dirty, then he headed to Dean’s direction.
“Are you hurt?”
“Relax, I’m fine. Can’t say the same thing about my jacket though,” Cas-Dean said, looking at his shredded leather jacket mournfully.
“... Pity. I looked good in it.”
“Dude... did you actually check yourself out?”
“I do believe I noticed you checking yourself out while I was dealing with the werewolves,” Dean-Cas said.
“Hey, I still saved your ass. My ass. Whatever.”
“I am aware. And thank you. And, Dean...” He took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I believe I am looking at this the wrong way.”
Cas - Dean frowned. “What are you talking about, man?”
“I’ve been trying to hold you back out of worry. You’re not a good warrior because of fighting skill alone. You’re a good warrior because Sam’s got your back. And I should be doing the same. Have your back when you’re facing the enemy.”
Cas-Dean smiled weakly. “You don’t get it man. I already know you’ve got my back. With you and Sam at my side, it’s damn easy to feel brave. And it’s a little bit easier with you.”
“Because I’m an angel.”
Cas-Dean shook his head. “Because I love you. And I know what I’ll lose if I’m not brave enough.” He frowned. “I was about to kiss you, but it’s like kissing myself, and unlike Kirk, it isn’t my lifelong ambition.”
“It’s perfectly fine, it’s strange having to lean down to kiss you.”
“...Did you just call yourself short?”
Dean never got an answer as the air shifted and they were back at the Bunker and in their bodies. Dean and Cas blinked and checked themselves, then looked at each other.
“I was hoping for a kiss,” Gabriel said, mock-pouting. “I even had the popcorn ready.”
“Yeah, yeah, be glad I’m too happy to be back to my own body,” Dean said.
“Love you too, dear brother-in-law. If you ever need more marriage counselling, you know where to find me,” the archangel replied, then snapped his fingers once more and he was gone.
“...And you’re not out of the woods, traitor,” Dean said, pointing at Sam.
“I know. I still regret nothing.”
“We’ll see about that when I put itching powder on your mattress...”
Cas didn’t let Dean finish that sentence. He just guided him gently towards their bedroom, then closed the door behind them.