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The first time he healed him that week played out like many other Tuesdays. The boys tracked a monster and tried to catch it off guard. The monster tracked them first instead and got the upper hand. Only this time, they had back up in the form of a badass angel. Castiel ended the problem with the ease of one hand.
The men hiked back to the impala for supplies, Sam and Dean leading with Cas a step behind. As they reached the car and Dean unlocked the trunk, Cas stepped between the brothers and placed a finger to a temple on each of their heads, healing their wounds effortlessly.
The familiar feeling of warmth rolled through the hunters, tingling slightly at the various injuries each had sustained. It was over in an instant but incredibly comforting nevertheless. Also, by now, it was very routine. Not that Sam or Dean expected Castiel to heal every scrape and bruise along the way, but having him near meant that they needn't worry if they did require assistance. They did not take him for granted though, Cas was part of their team. Throughout their more troublesome years the Winchesters had never gotten a chance to reflect on the implications of having an angel at their side. They'd always assumed Castiel would return to heaven when things returned to normal. But normal wasn't in the cards for them any more than it was for Cas. So for now, and as long as time would allow, the warmth of Cas' grace and the power and knowledge it provided is what Cas brought to the fight.
"Thank you, Cas," Sam said as he hoisted his shovel over his shoulder and walked back toward the scene where the monster lie.
Dean slammed the trunk closed and grinned in Cas' direction. "We'll have this finished up in no time," he winked.
Dean walked off following Sam's path, a shovel of his own swinging loosely at his side in his left hand, lazily flicking a lighter repeatedly with his right. A few yards away he turned around, continuing his trek in a backward pace, and called out to his friend.
"Thanks Cas."
~*~
The next time it happened was less than 8 hours later. Check out time at the roadside motel was 11:00am. After cleaning up the scene early that morning in the cover of darkness, the men had enough time to take turns hitting the shower and pack up their stuff before getting six solid hours of sleep.
"Hurray for small miracles," Dean had noted sarcastically as he locked up the room.
They checked out with a few minutes to spare and grabbed breakfast to go at the small diner next door. They were out of town and in the middle of nowhere in less than an hour, currently heading down a flat stretch of highway. Their only companionship was each other and the music cutting in and out as they made their way closer to state lines.
Dean shifted the styrofoam container still balanced on his lap, the remnants of a quick but hearty breakfast still warm on his knee. He reached out to push in the cassette sticking out of the tape deck and the radio momentarily went silent. The tape clicked a few times, shooting back out as the sound of static returned.
"Dammit," Dean sighed.
"Ya think maybe it's time for an upgrade Dean?" Sam smirked around a swig of cooled coffee.
"Cram it Sammy, you know I can fix it," Dean replied, more amused than irritated.
Dean caught Castiel's expression in the rearview mirror. He looked deep in thought.
"What?" Dean asked the mirrored image defensively.
"Why do you keep fixing this car Dean?" Cas inquired.
Sam laughed out loud and clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"My baby's family, Cas. Ya take care of family, you don't give up on it." He answered, confidently pushing the cassette into place a third time after blowing into it.
The telltale sounds of classic rock finally leaking from the speakers.
"Ha!" Dean huffed triumphantly, patting the dashboard affectionately.
Cas smiled at the hunter's grin in the mirror, understanding the sentiment. Even if he didn't understand the attachment to inanimate objects, he understood the importance of familiarity to comfort and security.
The music played on and Dean sang along, coaxing Sam to join in. The angel sat back against the leather cushion and admired them both. Long gone were the days he would've thought moments like these were frivolous, choosing to fly off and meet the boys at their destination. No, moments like these were now what Castiel fought for, he wouldn't miss this for the world.
They managed to make it up the road a few dozen miles before the loud 'pop' of a tire taking a hit filled the air. Dean managed to slow the vehicle quickly and pull over onto the dirt shoulder adjacent to the road. He was an experienced driver many times over. Handling minor hiccups in the road without causing unnecessary damage to his beloved car was pretty much muscle memory for him.
Sam was the first to slide out from his seat to assess the situation.
"It's my side, front tire. Looks like you ran over a bear trap Dean, what is this?"
Dean was less than enthused as he rounded the front of the impala. He crouched down to inspect the wheel and found a curved grid anchor hugging the treading. The kind used for building construction. Its spikes were impaled deep in the rubber.
"Son of a bitch."
Dean hopped up and crawled halfway in through the passenger side door to grab his keys.
"Is everything alright Dean?"
Dean, perched on one knee. Leaning his elbow on the back of the passenger seat he let his sarcastic reply die in the back of his throat.
"Yeah it's nothing I can't fix." Smiling at Cas he continued, "well, replace anyway. This tire is shot to hell. I gotta spare though, so we'll be back on the road in no time."
Dean climbed out of the car backwards and finished, "might wanna hop out while I switch out the tires though, 'kay bud?"
So the angel did just that. He removed himself from the backseat and stood next to the younger Winchester. Dean pulled everything he needed to make the repair from the trunk and then grabbed his trusty green Coleman cooler as well, leaving it as a make shift chair for whomever wanted to use it. Neither man did though, both opting to stretch their legs instead.
After asking Dean if there was anything he could do to help, and Dean confirming it was a one man job, Sam busied himself by examining rocks he'd picked up from the ground before flinging them out into the distance across an overgrown field of wildflowers.
Castiel used the time to watch Dean work. He often studied the man, learning more about what made the Hunter, and humanity in general, tick. Dean used to tell him that it made him uncomfortable. "It's creepy Cas." He'd say. But not anymore. Cas was grateful for this. Both of the Winchesters were the only familiarity Cas had left in the universe. They were his comfort, his security. Cas idly watched Dean's hands with interest, as though there would be a test later and he needed the information even though he knew he'd never have to use it.
"Son of a bitch!!" Dean's exclamation dragged Castiel out of his daze. He looked on as Dean sat back on his thighs, shaking his right hand in front of him.
Sam turned and walked to his side, leaning against the car which had yet to make it up onto the jack.
"Ouch," he hissed at Dean's injury.
Dean stole his little brother's trademark bitchface, "ya think?"
Sam chuckled, "want me to take over?"
"Naw naw I got it," Dean replied, reclaiming his grip on the lug wrench.
He grimaced at his hand as he continued to work, all the while Cas watching over him. Dean's knuckles on his right hand had hit the ground when he lost his grip before, his index finger had collided with the edge of the spiked anchor sticking out of the tire. The skin was broke and a bruise was already purpling. But Dean finished up relatively quickly regardless.
And with good timing too. Thunder rolled above their heads as big rain drops began to splash around them. Sam and Dean haphazardly tossed the bum tire and tools into the trunk and jumped into the front seat. Cas slid in the back simultaneously.
"Wait!" Cas called as he hopped out of the car once again. He returned, sliding the green cooler in ahead of him.
The brothers turned to look at their friend, then looked at each other.
"Thanks Cas," Dean remarked knowingly.
Cas smiled, a bit proud at the kind-of-sort-of rescue. "You're welcome Dean." He stretched back into the leather before quickly leaning forward again, "oh and Dean..."
Dean looked over his shoulder but before he could say anything the angel's hand hovered over his own on his arm outstretched across the top of the impala's front seat, gently healing the wound.
"Thank you Dean," Cas said, "for getting us 'back on the road'."
Sam grinned at cas' unnecessary air quotes and Dean offered a curt nod.
"Let's get the hell off this dirt before we sink in. I don't want mud in my rims and this rain is coming down pretty hard."
And it was. The storm had picked up tremendously and the trip home to the bunker was sure to be more cautious than normal. Dean put the car into drive and lifted off the brake, stealing one more glance at the angel in the backseat. They caught each other's gaze and Dean smirked. The familiar feeling of warmth rolled through Castiel, tingling at the center of his chest. He tried to return the smirk but his lips curled upward into a toothy smile.
"Yes. Let's go home."
~*~
It was Friday evening around eight o'clock when it happened again. Dinner was done and Dean had offered to do the dishes while Sam readied the his room for optimum movie watching pleasure.
"Movie Night, Cas," Dean called over his shoulder as he turned into the kitchen out of view.
"Yeah, come on," Sam tugged the angel's arm, "help me get the room situated. I've got the best set up to watch together, unless you wanna crowd around a laptop in Dean's room." He snorted. Cas tilted his head in consideration before picking up his pace to catch up with Sam's long stride.
Sam made it to his room first. He tidied it up a bit, tossing clothes onto a near by chair. He smoothed his quilted comforter out and stacked pillow at the head of the bed. He handed Cas an empty tumbler and knelt down by his TV stand to prepare the electronics.
"Why don't you run that to the kitchen so Dean can wash it, and then have him help you pick some snacks. Then we can pick out what we want to watch together."
Castiel took the glass silently and backed his way out of the bedroom. He crept down the hallway like he wasn't supposed to be there. He was still getting used to the comforts a stable base camp provided, when he heard Dean's voice from the kitchen. The angel stood in the doorway a moment, committing Dean's actions to memory again.
Dean stood, spine straight but body relaxed, as he worked over a pan in the sink. He was singing a tune Cas recognized from a cassette in the impala. Cas wished he knew the words too. He cleared his throat, crossing the kitchen floor to deposit the cup he held into the soapy water.
Dean shook his head, "Sammy's such a slob." Cas could practically feel the affection seep from Dean's skin when he spoke what Cas has come to realize was a Winchester term of endearment. Cas noted that most of the boys insults were just the top layer of a lifelong declaration of brotherly love.
"Would you like some help?"
Dean shook his head. "Naw, this pan, then that cup and I'm done."
"Very well," Cas stood at what he's learned to be an acceptable distance from Dean's personal space. He still steps into it frequently, always unintentionally. Dean rarely minds anymore. But Cas was trying to be more respectful of the boys' preferences now that he was living with them. He looked on without staring as Dean finished the last dish. Dean reached his hand into the soapy water to pull out the plug and as he did, his skin was pierced by a forgotten knife in the bottom of the basin.
"Shit!" Dean sucked a breath in through his teeth, "goddammit."
The blade had sliced the skin across his palm. It wasn't a bad cut but it stung like hell.
"Here let me fix it," Cas began.
"Naw, 's nothin' Cas," the Hunter protested.
"I know, but I can help. May I?"
Dean nodded and turned, leaning his right elbow on the edge of the counter. Cas stepped forward, taking his usual spot in Dean's bubble of time and space. He took Dean's right hand in his left, palm facing up, and examined it for a moment. Dean's hand was still wet and the small about of blood that leaked from his cut mixed with the dishwater. It pooled in his hand.
"It looks worse than it is Cas," Dean reassured.
Castiel knew this. But he studied it anyway. He didn't really need to. In fact, physical contact wasn't even necessary to the healing process. He just need to be close to his subject. But Cas wanted to feel both the work of his grace, and the ministrations of his human form as he healed his friend. The angel lifted his right hand, closing it up into a fist except for his index finger. He touched it to the heel of Dean's hand, right at the edge of the wound. Cas slowly dragged the digit across the cut, letting it slide through the blood collected there. As he did this his grace pulsed through him and into Dean's skin, gently but thoroughly repairing the opening.
When the job was complete Cas nodded his head at his handiwork and looked up, locking eyes with Dean's wide gaze. The green in Dean's eyes was aglow with confused appreciation. His lips were parted slightly, as if he was about to speak but froze suddenly. The attention from him and the realization that he was still holding Dean's hand made Cas' face flush. He dropped the other man's hand and cleared his throat. He'd been doing that a lot lately, a human quirk he didn't mean to emulate but often did.
"There you are," he managed to say. When he turned to walk away Dean shot a hand out and gripped his elbow, then stepped in to his pathway.
"Thanks Cas," he began, "you didn't have to...I mean, I appreciated it bud. But...why do you keep fixing me. I'm not that fragile Cas. I managed for years without you. You're gonna run yourself empty if you don't stop."
Cas smiled wide, "my grace does not work like that. Besides, you are my family Dean. We take care of family."
The men stood in each other's presence for a moment and Dean let out a huff of approval. Cas was the first to speak.
"Sam mentioned that you might be able to help me gather snacks before we decide on a film."
"Snacks. Yes, right." Dean did a quarter turn, then reversed it, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder. He looked him right in the eye and took on a serious tone. "Cas, I have a question and I need you to be honest with me."
Cas knit his eyebrows together in confusion, "of course Dean."
"How do you feel about licorice?"
"Licorice?" Cas considered very seriously, "I don't know Dean, what is it?"
Dean grinned suddenly and slapped Cas' shoulder.
"Follow me Cas, I've got a lot to teach you before Sammy puts thoughts in your head."
~*~
It was a gloomy, stormy morning a couple days later. Though you wouldn't be able to tell how electric the weather was from the inside of the fortress that was the Men of Letters bunker. The scene was more of the same. Sam and Dean were mulling over a news article from a town a few miles to the east.
"So you think it's a case?"
"Come on, a town full of people to scared to go the church? 'S worth checking out. It's like an hour away."
"Back in time for dinner?"
"Back in time for dinner."
"Alright then. Let's do it."
Dean laughed at the circumstances. "Are we really going to Sunday morning Church service, Sam?"
"Yeeeah. Yeah we are Dean."
Like clockwork the boys grabbed what little belongings they'd need for a day trip in their line of work. Dean grabbed his gun and tucked it into his belt, along with a few other strategically placed weapons of supernatural destruction.
"Ya comin Cas?" He hollered over his shoulder as he headed toward the stairwell.
Cas appeared in the doorway looking a bit put off.
"No, I think I'm gonna 'hang back' this time." The angel used his customary air quotes.
"What's wrong Cas, is it the church thing? Come on, ya think you're gonna go up in flames or something?" Dean teased. "Let's go."
"Not at all Dean. It's not the fact that you are taking a case at a religious sanctuary. I just," Cas shifted on his feet. "It seems like a simple...salt n burn, right? I'm not really needed."
Sam protested. "Of course you are Cas, you're part of the team."
"Thank you Sam. But I assure you, I'm not self conscious of my importance, I'd just like to stay h-home if that's alright."
Dean walked up to Cas and clapped his arm. "Course it is bud. We'll be back in a wink." Dean walked backward returning to the stairs. "See you tonight."
The men returned, descending the stairs hours later.
"I don't know Dean. He seemed, sad? To me anyway. I just think there's something bugging him. You should talk to him."
"Nonsense Samuel. Cas is fine, he's just...Cas." Dean spoke with confidence. He called out to the angel while conversing with his brother. "CAS? He is in an 'adjustment period.' His words." Dean continued. "He'll get it figured out. CAS, WE'RE BACK, CASE SIGNED. SEALED. DELIVERED."
The brothers poked around in the rooms adjoining the library at the bottom of the stairwell.
"WE SALTED AND BURNED THAT MOTHER-"
"Dean! He's not here," Sam worried.
"Yes he is," Dean assured calling again, "HEY CAS?"
"Dea-"
"Look, he's here. Okay? Calm yourself Samantha, don't elevate your blood pressure."
"Shut up. I'll look in this way. Go check his room. But he'd've answered if he heard us. Don't you think?"
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically, but Sam caught the slow swallow in Dean's throat and the concern he was trying to push down.
"He's fine Sammy, you keep mother hen-ing him and he's gonna fly the coup. Ya gotta let em grow up sometime."
Sam half heartedly punched his brother in the arm as he walked off down the hall.
Dean spun in the opposite direction toward the hall aligning many smaller rooms. He peeked in the room they had given to Castiel and it turned up empty. His eyes glanced back and forth through a couple of unoccupied spaces as he walked causally down the line. He pushed open Sam's door expecting to find the angel engrossed in other talk show highlighting the more quirky and chaotic side of humanity. Sam's room was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary.
"Slob," Dean chuckled to himself, making fun of his little brother's disorganized nesting ground. As he turned to walk back the way he came, he noticed the door to his own dwelling was slightly ajar.
Pushing away any unease in his belly, he reached to push open the door, ready to reprimand his nosy friend for going through his belongings. His thought train halted when he caught sight of the angel.
Cas was sitting cross legged on the floor at the foot of Dean's bed. His head was in his hands, a stack of old Winchester family photos lay in his lap. He spoke muffled words into his palms.
"Come again?"
"I said," Cas began, moving his hands without lifting his head, "you have a very beautiful family Dean."
"I know." Dean stepped into the room a few paces. "What're you doing in here Cas?" It sounded more quizzical than accusational.
Cas lifted his head to meet Dean's eye line. He looked like the weight of a dozen worlds had just fallen to his shoulders. "I'm so sorry."
Dean knocked his boot on the floor and placed a hand on his hip, sighing. "For what Cas?"
"For everything."
Dean clicked his tongue. Sam was right. Dammit. Dean crossed the small space between his door and his bed, turning to sit next to the angel on the cold cement floor.
"Alright Cas," he said, leaning back against the side of his mattress. "Spill."
Cas furrowed his brow.
"Lay it on me."
Cas tilted his head.
"Tell me what's bothering you! Jesus Cas. What's wrong?"
"Oh." The angel sat back against the bed, matching Dean's position, and sighed.
"I was supposed to watch over you Dean. To protect you." Cas stared up and the ceiling. "You were under my care and I have not done my job well at all."
"Bullshit."
Dean said the word so harshly it made Cas jump. He opened his mouth to protest but Dean cut him off.
"Ah. Did you get me out of hell?"
"Well yes b-"
"Did you stand by my side when shit with Heaven hit the fan?"
"Yes."
"Do you choose to keep standing by mine and Sam's side?"
"Of course Dean but I-"
"Not done Cas," Dean scolded, "have we been through enough yet for you to understand?"
"Understand what Dean?"
"You're family Cas. You're not here to take care o-of me, o-or Sam or anyone. We're here to take care of each other."
"Dean I'm an angel I-"
"Damn Cas you still don't get it. I don't care what you are bud," Dean let the words flow without hesitation. "I appreciate that you aren't from around here. Respect it even. But you're still ours. I know you're going through a...transitional phase. You're probably nervous about it. But I know you're right where you want to be. Right Cas? You feel safe here? With me? With us?"
Cas turned on to his hip to face Dean, propping up on his elbow against the mattress. "Absolutely."
Dean relaxed his muscles, unaware of how tense they had become.
"It's like this Cas, ya know when you get a new pair of jeans, and they're great right? Comfortable, functional, clean, whatever. They're great. But they're not yours yet. And even though they fit perfect and they are genuinely comfortable, you haven't worn them in. This life, it's gonna be great here Cas. You've just gotta find your groove man. You gotta give it time."
"I'm angel Dean, this vessel, while no longer occupied, isn't even truly mine. I fail to see how I'll ever 'fit in' to your life, let alone any denim garments you may lend me."
Dean laughed out loud and put his arm across Castiel's shoulders.
"I just..I need to keep you safe Dean. Both of you. You've lost so much. Your pain is unjust and unbalanced."
Dean squeezed Cas' arm and Cas gravitated closer to him, laying his head on Dean's shoulder.
"You do Cas, everyday. Every time you chose us. I get that Heaven isn't exactly a friend zone right now. But your a freaking angel. You could be flying around anywhere in the universe and yet you're here, healing our paper cuts."
Dean felt Cas smile into the fabric of his shirt and carded a hand through Cas' hair.
"You're family Castiel," he said softly, continuing his petting of the angel's mussed locks. "We need you around bud. An' more than that, we want you okay?"
With each stroke of Dean's hand Cas felt his own pain melt away. The Winchesters had become so entangled in his heart. They were so important to him and to hear that they felt the same was a relief and a blessing unmatched by anything. Cas felt a warmth spread through his body like wildfire as the Hunter placed a soft peck atop his head. It was similar to the warmth from the kitchen a few nights ago. Cas hoped it was a feeling that would soon fit him with familiarity. But the sudden rush was very welcome just the same.
"You don't have to keep trying so hard Cas. We're in this together," Dean absentmindedly worked his fingertips into Cas' scalp. His voice still hushed as he talked into Cas' hair, "we got you okay? I got you."
They stayed sitting against Dean's bed, tipped into each other, enjoying the comfort they brought one another. They didn't hear Sam step in the room until he was apologizing and backing out.
"Sorry guys. Sorry." He stammered.
"No come in Sammy," Dean spoke without so much as a hint of embarrassment. "Told ya Cas was fine, just flipping through old photos. Ya gotta lay off the chick flick moments around him, he's like a sponge at this age." Cas elbowed Dean in the ribs, silent amusement hidden on his face.
Sam still wasn't sure what he was looking at when Dean said, "hey couldja grab my laptop off the table?"
"S-sure Dean," Sam spoke with unconvincing ease. He grabbed the computer and walked it to Dean. Dean reached for it, setting it in his lap and then reached up again, this time for Sam's arm. He pulled him down next to him, opposite Cas.
"We're already down here, might as well watch somethin' in my room tonight, huh?"
"Yeeeah okay," Sam said, cautiously relaxing his body, "sure."
Dean powered up his laptop and gave Sam the once over. When they made eye contact Dean was able to catch Sam up to speed on Cas' feelings without saying a word. Sam nodded and scooted closer to his brother, throwing an arm across the bed behind him. Even sitting, Sam towered over the other men.
Cas snuggled further into Dean's side. His body was so slack Dean wasn't sure if Cas was even still awake. He was still holding him in his left arm, so he worked the computer one handed.
"What'll it be tonight fellas?" He said through a tired yawn or a contented sigh, he wasn't even sure and he wouldn't admit to either, not yet anyway. As he began typing into a search box, his recent searches dropped down and he slammed the screen shut.
"You saw nothing," Dean stated.
Sam was thoroughly amused.
"Shut up or I'll make you leave until you find us some decent snacks."
Cas roused slightly at this, speaking muffled words into Dean's shirt.
"What was that?" Dean asked.
Cas tilted his head back. "I said, I could go for some licorice."
Dean laughed and smirked smugly, whacking Sam in the chest with the back of his hand.
"Taught him everything he knows," Dean winked at his little brother. He turned back to Cas, looking down into his eyes, smiling proudly.
"Fuck you, both of you. Licorice is disgusting." Sam snatched the laptop from its perch on Dean's lap and hurriedly typed something in. He placed the computer back on Dean, where they could all see it. The Three Stooges opening began and the men all had a hearty chuckle.
"It's like looking in a mirror."
Dean held a fist out. Sam bopped his own on top of Dean's and Dean swung his arm around, as much as he could from their position, bopping Sam on the head. He couldn't wait until enough nights like these had passed that they became routine.
The show played on and they laughed along. Their faces hurting from too much grinning. A familiar feeling of warmth rolled through them, pooling in their chests. A warmth they determined to be the side effect of being home, where they could take care of each other. A home worn around the edges, the grooves of comfortable routine. A home fit for a family.