Warnings: Swearing and mentions of adult themes
Summary: After a night of watching over his sleeping child, Castiel wanders the halls of the Bunker. He didn't expect Dean to wait up for him. But, boy, is Castiel glad he did. They really needed to talk.
15x13 Coda // Week 2 // #SpnStayAtHome Prompt: Gentleman
Thanks to @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge!!
This fic is the second part in an ongoing series, picking up where 15x13 left off. Each work will be inspired from a prompt from this challenge, cross posted on AO3 for readability.
Read Part One: Birds of a Feather
Jack woke again around three in the morning, groaned and yawned with exhaustion. His eyes were swollen and puffy after a night spent crying. He wiped his face with his sleeve, sitting up to look at Castiel in surprise, “Whoa, Dad! What are you doing??”
Castiel blinked calmly. He’d been watching over Jack from a stool he had taken from the kitchen, sitting right beside his bed. The young nephil pressed hand to his chest to slow his breathing, sharp intakes from the startling moment. He clearly hadn’t been expecting the angel. Strange. He’d been here all night, keeping his son safe. Why would he leave without saying goodbye to him?
“It’s creepy when you stare at me like that.” Jack glared from the bed, blonde hair all fuzzy with wavy curls.
Castiel smiled a bit, “Good morning, Jack. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The boy reminded him of Dean when he wakes up, all whining and grumpiness. Dean says he doesn’t like being watched over much either, but according to Sam, he went to five garage sales to find the perfect one for Castiel. When Cas first laid eyes on Dean’s chair, the hunter was shy and a bit standoffish about it. The chair was always clean and empty unless Castiel was sitting in it. It was a strong dark mahogany wood behemoth with incredible back support, and sat in the same spot for years, turned at an angle towards Dean Winchester’s bed. Every now and then, Cas takes a seat. They’d talk long into the night, and eventually the beautiful hunter would drift away, lulled into a still and quiet slumber. Castiel cringed at how warm that made him feel inside.
Jack rolled his sleepy eyes at his father and pushed himself out of bed. The nephil left a small pile of long white feathers scattered in the center of the bed. His soul and grace are fusing. His wings are growing steadily. Soon, his fledgling feathers will be bigger and stronger than he could possibly comprehend.
Castiel noted the positivity of the situation. His son is feeling a bit better. Still very broken up, but he knows he has the love of his parents now. The cracks and wounds in his soul have been healing bit by bit. When Jack grows to understand and love himself, he will realize that things will be okay. Until then, he has his fathers.
The boy yawned as he pushed his feet into a pair of plain black slippers, “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Castiel nodded, “I’ll be waiting right here.”
Jack sighed, turning to look tiredly at his father, “Cas, I get it. Thank you. For being there for me.”
“But, you have something to do.” Jack replied knowingly, folding his arms over his cozy grey sweater, “And you’re avoiding it.”
“Jack. You don’t understand–”
“Oh, I definitely understand, Dad.” Jack stared back at his father. He stood firm. Castiel knew when he was being kicked out of a room. He’d picked up a sensitivity to that particular tension years ago, much to Sam and Dean’s chagrin. The angel heaved himself from the chair. He stood cautiously, looking his son steadily in the eyes. The nephil looked back.
Castiel pushed his hands into his pockets. He said simply, “I’m not avoiding him.”
Jack stared flatly at his dad, “Seriously?”
“Dean asked you to watch the stars with him last night, and you spent hours staring at me instead of running to him and telling him how you feel–”
Castiel rubbed his temple, sighing deeply, “Jack. I’ll give you your space. But, some things are too complicated… the bond between Dean and I has been tested more than you could possibly imagine. The ways in which we’ve hurt each other would break your heart. And when I saw the Empty yesterday, we spoke. It’s watching, Jack. If for some inane reason Dean feels the same way I do, sharing my feelings with him could have consequences. We’re in war. I can’t afford to make that sacrifice. And we can’t afford to lose a soldier.”
Jack looked absolutely devastated. His face fell, chin drooping as he breathed out, “But, Dad, you deserve–”
“Do I?” Castiel asked sharply. He noticed quickly that it was the wrong thing to say and the worst way to say it. But, he didn’t know how to rope it back into his mouth.
“Whatever.” Jack said wistfully, turning to make his way toward the door. He walked slowly. The nephil paused after opening it, hovering by the door. “Please at least answer his prayer. Even if you’re just gonna thank him for the sandwiches. He asked to see you. You stood him up. He would want you to apologise or he’s going to get all grumpy like he did on that vampire nest case in Camden when you booked the wrong motel.”
Castiel gasped. The kid remembered that?
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Jack finished, closing the door behind him.
“Jack, wait!” Castiel called out.
The door opened and an annoyed nephil popped his head into the room, “What?”
Castiel offered, “Are you sure you’re really alright? If I go, and you truly need me… I wouldn’t forgive myself.”
Jack glared at the angel. He looked away sharply, glancing down at his feet. The boy pushed the door open, stomping over to his father in his socks. He refused to give Cas eye contact as he stomped his feet dramatically through his room, leaving a trail of white feathers in his path. Jack ran into his father, giving him a big hug. The boy squeezed him tight. It was like he was holding on for dear life. Castiel smiled and patted his head, “I love you too, Jack. Sorry I raised my voice.”
“So annoying.” Jack muttered into Castiel’s coat, gold tipped feathers falling from his sweater. He pushed Cas’s chest as he stepped out of the hug, “You’re not off the hook. Talk to Dean.”
And with that, he was gone. Castiel looked around the room at all of the scattered feathers, dipping to his knees to pick them up by the handful after his son practically slammed the door behind him. One, two, seven, fifteen, twenty two, thirty six, thirty seven, thirty eight, thirty nine feathers. Castiel pulled open an unused drawer in Jack’s dresser and dumped the feathers in. They’ll deal with that later. Best keep those in the house. Any number of witches, demons, and beasties out there would kill for an archangelic nephilim feather. He shudders to think what spells they’d cast with it.
Castiel turned quietly in the empty room. Well, now that Jack’s bedroom is tidy he has to leave. Darn. When did that child get so clever?
The angel strolled out of the room in a huff, coat billowing behind him as he took to the halls. Castiel paced hard, shoes tapping against the tile as he took step after step. It’s past three in the morning. Dean’s probably asleep. Jack was right. Castiel stood him up.
He stopped walking for a moment and cursed quietly to himself. He told himself he’d stop abandoning the man when his feelings got too strong. But this was a serious situation, Dean would understand. Jack was in pain. Their son needed him. Castiel shook his head and started walking again.
That was Castiel’s greatest excuse yet to avoid Dean. He had to though. If he didn’t, what would have happened? They’d sneak off into the Impala and drive twenty minutes down the road to that nice wheat field Dean likes. There, the sky was clear and for miles there would be nothing but flat land and home grown farms. No people, no traffic, no noise. Just the two of them in nature. The stars shone so brightly, they were mesmerizing. And Dean could watch them for hours, freckles mimicking their constellations under the moonlight. He would look beautiful. So very beautiful. Castiel may find himself a victim of the Empty in minutes.
Dean Winchester is so pretty that Castiel could actually die.
The angel scoffed at that thought, almost wanting to spit it out. For years, he’s loved that human more than the grace in his vessel’s veins. Now that they finally have a domestic partnership and are raising a child together – now that Castiel is within grasp of getting everything he ever wanted – he’s stuck with a primordial NDA. He just wants one day where things might not crash down around him. One day to be happy. He knew exactly where he would go, what he would do, who he would kiss, and how he’d love him.
Castiel walked and walked and walked until he reached the corner of the Bunker. With nowhere else to turn, he made a complete 180°. Back the other end, he supposed. It’s 3:09am. It’s 3:09am. He walked some more, gliding through the halls until he reached that door. That room. Oh. That’s it. Where Castiel would go. It wasn’t far at all.
The angel stared hard at the giant wooden barrier, feeling shut out. He wished he was behind that door, enjoying the human on the other side of it. Dean would be so warm. So soft. Oh, how he’d bury himself in years of pent up forbidden emotion – how passionately he’d get aquatinted with that memory foam with a hot blooded human in hand. Or mouth. Or whatever else goes on in the private alphabetized archives of confusing adult media that Dean refuses to let him look at. Castiel doesn’t even care what Dean would ask of him. He’ll do anything, no matter the depravity. He’ll act like a complete dunce with no hesitation. He just wants to feel loved by the Righteous Man.
It would be so easy to open that door, wake the sleeping beauty, and do it. Kissing him would be effortless. He’s seen the way Dean watches him. He’s seen him lick that beautiful, pouty lower lip. Dean must be thinking about it. Sometimes he can feel him, longing and tortured and feverish. Maybe if Cas wishes enough, if he kisses him hard and holds him tight and confesses everything, Dean might not cast him out for it. But, if Dean rejects him, the shame would be enough to keep him free from the Empty until the end of time. Imagine being the angel who turned his back on his home while it crashed and burned to follow a man that doesn’t even love him. There aren’t even enough angels around to laugh at him. They’d all been wiped out during Raphael’s war, or died in the Great Fall, or fell victim to a stabbing between the factions. Castiel flicked those dominoes and one by one they fell, leaving Heaven on the brink of disaster. All because Castiel loved Dean Winchester enough to break it and run away with him forever.
Castiel turned his back on the door. Fuck. Stupid, stupid celestial.
Dean’s voice suddenly echoed through his head. He’s praying. Now? It’s 3:11am.
I can see your shadow under my door. Creep.
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