Wait and See

The Title of the Chapter

Dean groans a little when that's the note where the door quietly creaks open and Cas steps inside. Well… bitching about Gabriel making things worse right before Cas get's home probably isn't an omen. Gabriel's not that subtle.

Dean's half geared up to be mad at the both of them for real now. Outside of not telling him that Cas's date was a guy, they've completely disregarded the fact that Cas isn't human. Pretending to be normal is one thing, but a date requires lying on a scale that Cas doesn't have the life experience to put together. How is he supposed to make up embarrassing high school stories? How is he supposed to explain his life now? The most effort Dean and Cas ever put into a background for him was making the last few years sound like roguish grifting. Neither of them have workable life long histories.

But before Dean can point any of these things out, and remind the amatuers that he is the criminal here, he sees Cas's face and can't convince himself that nagging about the proper way to lie is the first thing that Cas needs to hear after his first date ever.

He looks happy, and just slightly nervous and he's wearing they guys scarf, tied carefully around his neck.

And that just stabs Dean in the chest. He remembers the first time he went out with a girl. He'd been 14, her father hadn't liked the look of him and insisted that they're only choice was to go to the mall for a few hours, be driven there by him and be picked up by him. They were supposed to go to a movie, but they had just wandered around doing nothing. She'd kept blushing at everything he'd said and just before they were supposed to be picked up by her father she had grabbed him around the face and planted one on him.

And he'd felt very cool about it, even when he'd had to pretend to live in the suburbs, get dropped off in someone else's driveway and walk back to the motel. And then it had turned out that Dad had swung back for a special knife and found Sammy alone in the motel.

Dean had though he'd been too old to get a hiding like that. He'd been wrong.

Which is one of the many reasons he can't admit to being angry with Cas right this second. Tomorrow he can't bring up backstories and the impossibility of dating when you've only been human for 9 months and you need to make up an entire life, but tonight Cas is smiling and fiddling with a scarf that was obviously a gift.

Chelsea turns to him, shooting him a look that is truncated quickly. He wonders what she thought he was going to say. She rubs her hand over his knee, lmost apologetically, and turns back to Cas.

"Hi, sweetheart. How did it go? Did you have a nice time?"

Cas shrugs and peels himself out of his coat before hanging it on the rack near the door. He leaves the scarf on.

"Yes. I did." His eyes flick to Dean and Dean feels like shit when he realizes that Cas is gaging his reaction. Now that it's just him and Chelsea and Cas, instead of everyone they know, the whole… dating a dude thing is a little less… weird.

"Where did he take you?" Dean asks. He mentally pats himself on the back. He sounds interested and nothing like his father.

"The Arboreatum," Cas answers. He tucks himself into his favorite chair, still fiddling with the fringe on the scarf. "It was very pleasant. I've missed my garden. And they have special lamps to keep the plants warm. It was like going to Spring."

Dammit Dean thinks to himself. The skinny little dude took Cas somewhere green and warm. I'm going to have to like him.

Chelsea's grinning like a maniac. "That's so sweet." She eyes Castiel like she just noticed some small clue about him that Dean can't see. "Did he kiss you?"

Cas doesn't answer. He looks at Dean again, but Dean's expecting it and forces his face into an expression of moderate interest and a total lack of freaking out.

"Umm… yes," Cas said, more to his scarf than to either of them. "In the car in the parking lot."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Dean asks.

"I carry a silver knife. I'm diminished, not useless."

Dean doesn't have the heart to explain what he really meant. And Cas isn't going to pick up on it. He lets it go. A silver knife would take care of what he was worried about anyway.

"I like kissing," Cas announces. He looks startled when Chelsea laughs out loud. She quickly regains her cool, stretches, and stands. She grabs Dean's face, and kisses him on the forehead, in the way she does that always makes Dean feel… squirmy and young.

She walks over to Cas and does the same, smoothing his hair down carefully on one side. "I'm glad you had fun. See you tomorrow."

Things get a little bit uncomfortable when the door smacks shut behind her.

Dean decides to head the whole thing off and just gets up off the couch, heading up to bed.

"Dean?" Cas says quietly.

"Yeah. What?"

"I'm sorry I lied to you about this. It was petulant and childish."

"We don't have to do this. We're okay. I lied too, let's just call it square."

"You're my friend. I was in the wrong."

Dean sighs. He does not want to do this now. "I said it's fine."

And then Cas reaches out and grabs his hand… and yesterday, it was just… Cas. Just a Cas thing. Just some weird little habit that had developed because it was just the two of them and Cas was just… Cas. Damaged and healing and not human and … not sexual.

Dean snatches his hand back and the look that Cas gives him was like being carved open by Alistair, but worse.

He cleared his throat. "I mean it. It's… fine."

And then he goes up to bed, without brushing his teeth, or looking back, and doesn't fall asleep for hours.


The week gets weirder. And it doesn't help that this is the one goddamn week that all of the other hunters seem to have finally gotten their shit together. No one calls for help. No one calls for a pretend supervisor. Nothing.

Things with Cas are tense. He keeps reaching out for Dean and not completing the motion. His phone rings and he disappears up to his room. Dean doesn't know what to say to him, or how to say it. He's planning to wait for it to blow over.

Dean comes home to an empty house on Wednesday night. He hasn't come home to an empty house since Cas came back from the dead and the silence is driving him nuts. He calls Cas three times before finally getting an annoyed reply.

Cas went out to dinner with Tony. In a going out sort of way.

Dean grabs a book. Might as well take advantage of the quiet to research the Hell lore.

But the quiet gets to him. He tries to put a movie on in the background, but it just agitates him. He puts on a basketball game and then remembers that he hates basketball.

He's about to start drinking, and just manages to hold himself back. Cas and Cheslea will lecture him. Bobby will… not say anything… but he'll know about it.

Dean sits in the kitchen and resents the phones for not ringing.

Then he calls Thomas and tries to get him to come over to practice shooting. Thomas is all about it until he realizes that Dean means tonight. Thomas has kid and family stuff to do, but they set up some time for Sunday. Apparently Thomas used to be able to take down a wraith with throwing knife at 20 yards and has missed being able to practice.

That leaves Chelsea. She's pissed at him about the whole tense-with-Cas issue. And if she comes over she's going to make him talk about his feelings.

But it's better than sitting here with no one but himself for company.

"Hey, sweetheart, I was just about to call you," Chelsea says when she picks up. "Are you boys up to anything exciting?"

"Cas is out. On a date."

"Oh. Umm. How long has he been gone?"

"Wasn't here when I got home."

"Good. I need to show you something."

Dean feels his heart skitter at that. "Chelsea? What did you find?"

"I'm on my way over."

They say goodbye.

Fuck it, Dean thinks. He grabs himself a whiskey and a beer chaser and he's finished both of them and has another beer that he's only pretending he just started open before Chelsea walks in. She stopped knocking about a month ago. Dean hadn't noticed until now.

"So… you were all… weird… on the phone. What's going on?"

Chelsea tosses her coat over a chair grabs her purse, holding it in front of her like a shield.

"So… remember when you asked me not to read Supernatural. And I promised that I wouldn't. And then said that hadn't?"

Dean has a bad feeling about where this was going. "You lied?"

"I did lie," Chelsea confirms. "And then Chuck brought the new book over and I stole it. And I'm reading it now… and I think you should see this."

She pulled a hardcover book with the word "Supernatural" emblazoned in white letters outlined in black at the top and the words "Lazarus Rising" in gold at the bottom.

"Lazarus Rising?" Dean repeats. "Oh shit." He gets it. "This is when I got out of Hell isn't it?"

"Yeah. And look, at this-" She grabs a book mark about a quarter of the way into the book and drops the book down onto the table.

The title of the chapter is "The Scorching of Castiel's Wings"


Chelsea hangs out with him while he reads the book. She puts on a record and sits flipping through some of the lore and magazine she obviously brought because she expected to sit with Dean while he read.

His assumption that Castiel had just, dropped out of the rocky ceiling, grabbed him and got out of dodge is completely and totally wrong.

They'd gone into Hell as a battalion. They'd full on attacked Hell, for him. Cas hadn't been at the lead. Cas was just a guy in the ranks, but he'd been close enough. And he'd gone up against Alistair, himself, and been damn near roasted alive pulling Dean away from the rack.

And been… injured.

Disfigured.

For him.

And Dean was being all…fucked up about letting Cas touch him, because Cas had a boyfriend?

And it got worse from there.

Cas touching his hands was nothing. He cleared his throat loudly when he reached one of the flashbacks. Chelsea didn't even look up.

"Did you get to the part where he rebuilt your body like clay yet?"

"Yeah."

Dean finishes the chapter, then finally looks up. It's midnight.

"Wait… where the hell is Cas?"


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