Work Text:
Dean can’t sleep after they all get back to the bunker. Mary’s gone to bed with a large mug of herbal tea, Sam crashed out within minutes of getting home and Cas is.. Cas is around somewhere doing whatever he does when everyone else is asleep. But Dean can’t sleep. He tosses and turns on his much-missed memory foam mattress for an hour or more, leg twitching, sighing, trying to bury his head in his pillow, before finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed in defeat and sitting up, rubbing his hands over his face roughly. He’s exhausted but something just won’t let him turn off. Adrenaline maybe. An extended period of nothing followed by a few frantic hours of action, tension and high emotion, maybe not the greatest precursor to a good nights sleep. He decides to pay his Baby a visit, maybe give her a wash, since she’s been neglected for 6+ weeks. He pulls on a t-shirt and slaps his face to try to get his brain thinking straight and heads for the garage.
The lights are off when he gets there. He feels a twinge of sadness thinking of the Impala languishing there in the dark for so long. He flicks on the lights and the garage hums to life, old strip lights buzzing. He blinks until his eyes adjust. It only takes him a couple of seconds to realise he’s not alone. Turns out Baby has another late night visitor.
Dean walks round to the backseat window of the Impala and taps on the glass. Castiel looks up at him and winds down the window.
“Hello Dean.”
“Hey Cas. Uh.. what ya doin’?”
Cas glances around the interior of the car.
“Nothing.”
Dean raises his eyebrows. Cas looks slightly guilty.
“I.. I took to coming out here while you and Sam were gone. The car seemed.. it felt less lonely than the bunker.”
He pauses and avoids Deans eyes.
“It sounds foolish, I know.”
Dean smiles, leaning on the window frame.
“Nah, I get it. I’m actually glad to know she had some company while I was gone.”
Cas looks a little relieved but still embarrassed.
“Still, it- she is your car, not mine. I know you have very strong feelings about people touching, uh, her.”
Dean chuckles.
“Well, yeah, anyone else and I might’ve checked her over for damage but, y’know, it’s you so.. mi casa es su casa.”
Dean doesn’t miss Cas’s little look of surprise. So he decides to elaborate a little.
“I mean, this car,” he pats the Impala’s roof fondly, “it’s kind of our home. Me and Sam, we probably lived in her longer than we lived anywhere growing up. And our home, y’know..” he feels himself starting to blush but pushes on “Our home is your home.” He finishes strong, then clears his throat. Cas is staring at him with that ever-present little frown. Dean frowns a little in return. “You know that, right?”
Cas doesn’t nod or say anything. He actually looks away from Dean for a moment and Dean can’t tell what he’s thinking. Cas turns back after a few seconds.
“Thank you, Dean.” Cas says it with great sincerity and Dean feels the blush creeping back to his face.
“Hey, I mean it, man. The bunker too.. it’s as much yours as ours.”
Cas nods slowly. Dean clears his throat again.
“So, y’know, you don’t have to hide out here at night. You can watch TV or read or make coffee inside.. whatever you want. You could even make up a room for yourself, hang out in your own space.”
Cas seems a little shaken by Dean’s suggestions.
“I wasn’t- I’m not hiding. I just- I preferred the Impala. When you were missing. It felt- it felt more like you.”
Cas is now not meeting Dean’s eyes and Dean feels simultaneously full of the urge to hug Cas and full of the urge to laugh off the sincerity and hurry back to the relative emotional safety of his bedroom. Cas risks a glance at him and Dean realises he’s been staring, nay gaping at Cas for longer than is perhaps appropriate.
“Well, I’m- we’re.. me and Sam, we’re back now. So no more sniffing the seats, ok?” Dean says.
Dean was aiming for humor here, giving Cas a lopsided grin. But it is met with an embarrassed nod from Cas and a quick movement that indicates Cas is moving across the backseat to exit the car on the far side. Dean hurriedly yanks open the door and slides in next to Cas, grabbing the sleeve of his trench coat before he can escape.
“Hey, wait a second. I was just kidding, Cas. I didn’t mean that. I get that these past few weeks have sucked for you too.” Cas huffs incredulously and continues to avoid Dean’s searching gaze.
“I was not imprisoned, Dean. I don’t think our experiences are comparable.”
There’s a degree of self-reproach, even self-loathing, in Cas’s voice and Dean can hear it. He shifts in the seat, angling himself toward Cas a little.
“Okay, maybe not. But you didn’t know where we were or even if we were dead or alive, right? At least I knew Sammy was nearby the whole time. And I know you don’t exactly have, uh, anyone you’re close to besides us, so.. it can’t have been fun.”
Cas’s jaw clenches hard.
“No, it was not “fun”. I- I missed you very much, Dean.”
Cas swallows and quickly adds “And Sam, of course. I missed Sam as well.”
Dean can’t help the little grin that creeps unseen onto his face.
“Of course. Hard not to miss, Sammy.”
The right side of Cas’s mouth quirks upward slightly before he deadpans.
“He is very.. tall.”
They lapse into a comfortable silence and Dean slumps back against the seat, stifling a yawn, the deep tiredness starting to catch up with him again.
“FYI, Cas?” Dean says quietly after a minute, “I really missed you too.” His head is tilted back against the head rest now, eyelids heavy and half closed.
Dean’s hand is still resting against Cas’s arm where he had grabbed his sleeve minutes earlier. Dean feels rather than sees Cas’s warm fingers close around his own and give his hand a gentle squeeze. Dean smiles a little half smile and squeezes back before drifting off, the smell of Baby’s leather seats and a hazy image of Cas’s soft smile and blue blue eyes finally allowing his body to relax and his brain to shut down.
Dean awakes the next morning in his own bed, feeling comfortable and rested. He’s not sure how he got there, but when he heads out to the garage again a little later that morning he finds the Impala freshly washed and buffed, her tank full. Smiling, he ambles back to the kitchen for coffee. There he finds a note stuck on the fridge in sloping angelic scrawl.
“Dean, Sam, Mary. I have gone to fetch provisions. I will be back soon. Welcome home.”