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It was one of those nights. The kind of night Sam had had enough of. It was the kind of night in which the air feels thicker, the sky darker, and the silence unnatural. It was a night that awaits. An interlude. Like that extra hour he gets some days, in between research and Dean arriving with take-out.
His eyes started hurting so he shut them tight and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed the book with a thump that echoed around the bunker. Although they had managed to make the place feel like a home –not that they really knew what that meant–, the rooms always felt a bit too empty, and every sound echoed against the walls. This is how he knew Dean was still awake. Sam could hear him cleaning his guns two rooms away.
He got up and walked towards Dean’s room. As he approached, he was surprised when he heard voices. He didn’t know Cas had come back.
The door was slightly ajar. And from afar he could see his brother inside the room.
He didn’t know what made him stop. Maybe there was something about Dean’s posture. Or something about Cas’ voice. Or something about the atmosphere of the room that slowed Sam’s steps, made them quieter and more careful.
He stood outside the room, listening. Through the opening of the door he could see only Dean, standing in front of his desk with his guns. He was polishing the white Magnum, his back towards where Cas probably was standing.
Sam didn’t know if Castiel could tell that he was listening behind the door, but Cas gave no signs of knowing so. Their discussion went on uninterrupted.
“Everything is good and ready, Cas. We are closing those freakin’ gates tomorrow and bringing Kevin back. Sam’s plan is great.”
“Yes, Dean. I know that. But in case something goes wrong…”
“Nothing will go wrong.”
“You cannot possibly predict that.”
Dean let out an exasperated noise, his back still towards Cas. He kept polishing his gun although Sam could tell it was only to keep his hands busy.
“Dean.” Cas insisted.
No answer.
Cas sighed heavily. “Dean, in case something goes wrong tomorrow, I think there is something you have to know.”
Dean didn’t say anything, but his hands became still. He was looking down, brow furrowed, listening attentively.
“I do not know exactly how it came to happen. Or when for that matter. And I’ve tried to ignore it, but… Dean, you have to know that I—”
“I know.”
Behind the door, Sam realized he was holding his breath. He forced himself to breathe again.
“You know.” Cas sounded confused.
Sam saw Dean physically hesitate before laying his gun down on the table and turning around, finally facing Cas.
“I know.” He repeated.
He heard Cas sigh, tiredly. “Dean, I just—”
“Don’t.”
Dean was the kind of guy whose first instinct was to intimidate people. He’d always take a step towards you, look you straight in the eye, and state commands. “Listen to me, Sammy”. “Stay here, Sammy”. “Stop this, Sammy.”
That is why Sam’s stomach hurt a little when he saw Dean taking a step back. Slowly. His lower back hitting the desk where all his guns where spread out.
“Cas, please. Stop, man.” He looked anxious and pained. “This is not the time or place.”
They remained in silence for a minute. Dean looked like he was begging Cas with his eyes to drop the subject.
Sam really wanted to see Cas and try to decipher his expression. He was dying to get in there and shake both of them. Tell Cas that there are some things that don’t need words. Scream at Dean to, for once, put himself before everything else.
Instead, Sam stood where he was. Listening.
“I understand.” Said Cas, finally. Solemnly. Dejectedly.
The finality in his voice startled Sam. Cas was probably misunderstanding Dean’s words.
Apparently Dean thought so too because he stood straighter and took a step towards Cas this time.
“Wait, Cas.” He hesitated, struggling to put into words what he wanted to say. “Just… wait. Until all this stuff is over. And there are no more demons and tablets and none of this crap. Then… Then we can… talk about this, alright?”
This time it was Dean who seemed to be holding his breath, as he looked for an answer in Cas’ face.
“Alright.” The angel said. “After all the crap is over.”
Sam and Dean relaxed, breathing deeply.
Dean nodded. “Okay. Good.”
“Okay.”
Sam heard the sound of flapping feathers as Cas disappeared.
Dean stood there, taking a deep breath and exhaling. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and turned back to his guns again. As he picked one up to dissemble, Sam could see the soft traces of a smile lifting the corner of his lips.
Sam slowly backed away and walked to his room. He had a lump in his throat and queasy feeling in his stomach. Tonight, more than ever, he hurt with how desperately he wanted his brother to be happy.
Now Dean had found the way. It had been standing in front of him this whole time.
Laying on his bed, only hours before they had to get up again to save the world, Sam closed his eyes and did what he had done every night since he was a child.
He prayed for his brother.