Chapter Text
The next two and a half weeks had been all carved out for Dean. Three days a week, every other day, he'd spend the first half of the day at the auto shop until one in the afternoon. Benny needed more hours before Andrea popped—his own words, according to the old man—so Bobby had allowed him to take most of Dean's evening hours while the older Winchester alternated with running himself happily ragged between the diner and home.
Donna already had lobster in her inventory as she offered it as an option for her signature Eggs Benedict entree. He chopped up the lobster tails, throwing them into a pot with clam juice, pearl onions, English peas, diced carrots, salt and pepper, and heavy cream. Then he'd steamed several bags of medium sized frozen shrimp, already peeled and deveined, chopping those up as well to add to the pot.
While it cooled in Donna's blast chiller, he used her industrial sized mixer to make the crust from scratch. He used her flour and yeast but had bought some cheap vodka to use instead of water so the crust would retain a crispy, flaky consistency. Dean had been ready to spend thankless hours rolling the dough by hand only for Donna to drag him into a room next to the dishwashing machines that housed an industrial sized roller that took up two-thirds of the temperature-regulated space.
“Holy shit,” Dean gasped, staring at all of it in awe as if he'd discovered The Holy Grail.
Donna smirked knowingly, slapping him roughly on the shoulder. “Have a great time, lovey.”
Dean had a stupendous time, thank you very much.
He decided to use 4” cast iron pans that were being sold at $3.99 a pop at the hardware store the next town over. Charlie had ordered them in bulk for him, and Bobby and Rufus had come with for triple the muscle ‘cuz that shit had been heavy.
In the end, Dean had made forty-two mini pot pies in all; lobster and shrimp, chicken, and turkey priced at $14.99, $10.99, and $11.99 respectively. He'd tried to strike his 90-10 deal with Donna but she'd immediately scoffed and set their profits at 60-40—and arguing with Donna was like having a row with the sun during a solar flare, so he shut up and took it, no questions asked.
The lobster and shrimp sold out first (a little less than half had gone mostly to Bobby and Rufus), and the chicken and turkey pot pies ran out at about the same time. Dean had been over the moon at the results, and had Charlie go over the logistics of what it'd cost if he went with a five year lease at a 1,000 sq ft storefront. He sent the information over to Cas, who then underhandedly reached out to Charlie to look for spaces ranging between 1,500 and 2,000 sq ft instead as he insisted that he had additional savings aside from the upcoming $300,000.
He and Cas had their first argument that eventually concluded with Dean staunchly deciding on settling for a 1,500 sq ft space and no orgasms for a week before their road trip, because Cas was a dick and that checked all of Dean's boxes for reasons unknown.
It was the end of the first week and Dean was bone tired. Bobby had given him Thursday off so he could recover, leaving Friday open for his commute to Stanford. Between Cas's co-op and Dean's self-imposed schedule, there had been little opportunity to talk to one another as much as they liked—aside from some pleasantly lewd texts, of course. Driving to the campus in black silky boy shorts, a cock ring, and a plug up his ass wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he figured the turnout would benefit him in the end.
He parked Baby in visitor parking, as far away from the other cars, which was a torturous mistake on his part as he made the slow, overstimulating trek up to Sam and Cas's building.
Dean really hoped he didn't run into Sam first.
He made it to Cas's door a little after four. He knocked on it, pleasure and tension swirling in his gut as it opened to reveal his very tired albeit very sexy husband. Cas's blue eyes darkened as he yanked Dean inside by the front of his shirt, crowding him against the door as soon as he shut it behind them.
Dean shivered, lolling his head back against the wood. He couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as he wrapped his bowed legs around Cas's middle. They shuddered as they frotted against each other, Cas wasting no time in reaching between them to pull at the button on the waistline of his jeans, yanking the zipper down before shoving his hand into the front of his underwear.
Cas purred at what he found, grasping Dean up by the backs of his thighs as he immediately hitched him up higher on Cas's hips only to maneuver them both towards the mattress. Dean yelped as he was dropped none too gently on the bed.
“Strip. But leave the underwear on,” the older man ordered, narrowing his eyes.
The younger man's hands were trembling as he pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boots and eventually his jeans and socks. He was visibly shaking as Cas traced his fingers along the lace hem adorning the boy shorts, his hips kicking up as they were slowly pulled down mid-thigh.
~
Cas inhaled sharply at the lovely sight, crowding Dean's space as he fitted himself between his husband's legs. Dean's face was captured in both of Cas's hands, and then he was being kissed within an inch of his life.
Their kisses were sloppy and desperate, and Cas was quick to shove at Dean's underwear until it was dangling from one ankle. Agile hands poised over both cock ring and the base of the plug, he divested Dean of both, groaning at the sight of Dean's cock filling up while his hole clamped down around nothing. Grabbing lube from the bedside drawer, Cas hissed as he drizzled some onto his dick from root to tip. He then fed Dean his cock, the both of them moaning when Cas was sheathed completely inside his husband's warmth.
Cas took his time, their mouths and tongues tangling as he dragged his cock in and out of the younger man's rim, enjoying Dean's muffled vocalizations.
“Hunh! Hah… fuck, fuck, Cas!”
Utterly delicious vocalizations, indeed.
He rewarded his boy with a swirl of his hips, burying his face and eventually his teeth in Dean's throat, fucking into him deeper, harder, keeping a slow and steady pace. He shuddered and groaned every time Dean squeezed around his shaft, adding to the orchestra of filthy noises still being produced by his beloved. Their hoarse cries bounced off the walls, as did the headboard as Cas began to mercilessly slam into the other man, targeting his prostate each time until Dean captured him in a vise, his cock jumping as ropes of his seed continuously shot out of his heavily leaking slit.
“Good boy,” Cas purred.
“Oh— Shit— Cas— Gonna cum again—”
“Very good boy,” he growled. He allowed himself finally to lose control, pounding into Dean hard and fast, no doubt bruising his beautiful boy's ass cheeks with the sharp curves of his hips. He came hard as Dean bore down, snarling as he pressed in deep.
Dean cried out when Cas abruptly pulled out, whining when the plug was pushed back into his wrecked hole.
He merely chuckled as he rubbed their noses together in greeting. “Hello, Dean.”
The younger man huffed out a laugh, bleary-eyed as he shook his head fondly against Cas's pillow. “Heya, Cas.”
Cas hummed, kissing him hard.
~
Dean sighed happily at the feel of his husband's plush lips meeting his own, his eyes fluttering closed. Exhaustion hit him like a truck, his body feeling pleasantly heavy all of a sudden. He let it happen, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he felt Cas brush a tender kiss against his temple.
A series of knocks pulled Dean from his slumber. He struggled to peel his eyes open, even more so as he felt the slow rise and fall of Cas's chest from where the older man was pressed flush behind him. He shivered, realizing they'd fallen asleep atop the covers in their birthday suits. Cas's arms tightened around his middle, his warm breath tickling the nape of Dean's neck.
“Think someone's at your door,” Dean murmured sleepily.
Cas sighed, burying his nose in Dean's hair. “Some of my former customers aren't quite accepting of the fact that I'm no longer selling. I've given them all pamphlets on community resources and rehab centers. I don't think they found that to be very amusing.”
Dean chuckled, shaking his head.
“How's everything going with the pies, beloved?”
The younger man's stomach growled, supposedly reminded about the existence of food. He'd had some breakfast burritos for brunch, but that had been around 1pm. He blushed as Cas huffed out a laugh.
Cas lifted his head to glance at the alarm clock perched on the nightstand. It was a little after nine in the evening. “What would you say to some Chinese? They don't close until three in the morning.”
“I knew I married you for a reason,” Dean giggled, turning onto his side and brushing a kiss to the older man's cheek. “The pies flew off the shelves, babe. I have a really good feeling about it.”
Cas froze when he heard the metallic click of the doorknob, frowning when it began to turn. The moment it swung inward, he immediately pressed on the switch for his lamp, completely removing the lampshade to get a better look at his intruder who was suddenly stumbling back with a hiss, no doubt blinded by the naked lightbulb.
“Dude, what the fuck—”
Dean narrowed his eyes as he rose up on his elbows. “That you, Sammy? Why you pickin' Cas's lock?”
“Shit.” Sam made an about face, hurrying back out the door and slamming it shut behind him.
Dean growled in frustration, clambering to his feet and making a beeline towards the door.
“Dean, my sweet— Let's get some clothes on and we'll go after him together.”
The younger man's ears pinkened as he belatedly realized his bits were just blowing in the breeze. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, returning back to Cas.
The older man wordlessly passed Dean his silk boxers and the Van Halen band shirt he'd donned coming in. He smirked at the plug peeking out between Dean's cheeks as he shoved himself into his own jeans, and couldn't help tugging on it as Dean began to step his legs through the silk boxers one at a time.
“Fuck! If I wasn't so pissed I'd be riding your dick right now.” He sighed, carding his fingers through his hair. “You really don't have any more drugs in here? I'm wondering now how many times Sam has done this.”
Cas shook his head, pulling his shirt on before approaching his closet. He pulled on the drawstring to turn on the lightbulb, revealing a medium sized lockbox covered by a haphazard pile of hoodies and sweaters. Touching four numbers on the keypad, its door swung open to reveal three orange pill bottles varying in size. Swiping them up, he brought them over to Dean. “This is all I have left.”
Dean sighed in relief as Cas showed him his prescriptions for Viagra, Cialis, and his extended release Adderall. “I'm gonna remove the plug from my ass and then we'll see what Sam has to say for himself.”
“Pity,” Cas said, pouting as the younger man headed quickly for his restroom.
Once Dean was finished, they toed on their shoes and made the long trek down the hallway, stopping directly at Sam's door. Dean turned the knob, pushing the door open when he found it unlocked.
Sam was sitting slumped at his desk, his arms crossed to his chest. A muscle was ticking in his jaw, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
Dean stepped forward until he was standing over his sulky baby brother. “What the hell, man?”
Sam's breath hitched. He swallowed hard, still not saying a word.
The older Winchester sighed, crouching down to look up at Sam's face. “Dude, c'mon. You were doing so well.”
Cas sat at the foot of Sam's bed, quietly observing the brothers.
Tears were rolling down the younger man's cheeks now. He nodded. “R-Ruby stabbed me with a syringe.”
His older brother shot Sam a scandalized look. “Why the hell are you still talking to that bitch?”
Sam's shoulders shook as he started to cry. “Sh-She said she needed my help.”
Dean groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. “Damnit, Sammy. This bleeding heart bullshit is gonna get you killed.” He glanced at Cas, pleading with him with his eyes. “Dude, he looks like shit. What can we do?”
Cas sighed. “Sam, if you are amenable, I'd like you to call Mia and leave a voicemail detailing the symptoms you're experiencing. Afterwards, your brother and I can take you to the behavioral center in Mountain View. They’ve got urgent care services there.”
“L-Like a psych ward?” Sam stammered, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles whitened. “I—Please don't make me go.”
“It isn't a psych ward, Sam,” his brother-in-law explained patiently. “It's a crisis stabilization unit. A nurse will determine what should be done through a safety assessment, and they may have you stay for a few hours to monitor your vitals. It is completely voluntary. We will not push you to remain there, but I'd feel a lot better if we at least went to get your symptoms addressed.”
A contemplative silence settled around the younger man. “Okay,” he whispered after a beat.
Mountain View was just a little over twenty minutes' drive. While Sam was taken to an examination room, Cas and Dean remained seated in the lobby. Cas had pulled up a food courier app, ordering something quick to be delivered the moment he heard Dean's stomach protest.
“I've barely spoken to him since I dropped you guys off after Thanksgiving,” the older Winchester admitted hoarsely. “I honestly didn't think of him at all. I shoulda known something was up, man. Sammy usually texts me at least once or twice a day.”
Cas wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leaning his forehead against Dean's. “Beloved, you were preoccupied with the pie sampling. At least we're getting him the help he needs now. And this is on Samuel, not you. I can only hope this situation has given him insight on Ruby's true nature.”
The younger man sighed, sinking deeper into Cas's embrace. “Walk me through this. What's happening in there?”
Cas took Dean's hand, lifting it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “It'll be like a regular doctor appointment. Sam looks kind of dried out so it's likely they'll give him fluids intravenously. The more fluids they give him, the more opportunity for whatever's still in his system to get flushed when he pisses it all out later. They might feed him later on. The most integral part is that he gets rest so his body can repair itself. If it's really severe, they may hold him for twenty-four to seventy-two hours to make sure he's up to baseline.”
He nodded, a far away look on his face.
“Mr. Winchester?”
Dean flinched, turning his head to find an LPN smiling sympathetically at him and not his father like he'd been expecting. Thank Christ for that. Belatedly he began to hone in on what the woman was saying.
“...to startle you. Your brother has elected to stay here for the rudimentary seventy-two hour observational period. Someone will be checking in on him every hour on the hour. I just administered a sedative at his request. You're welcome to come and visit between the hours of eight and five tomorrow. Do you have any questions for me, any concerns?”
He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh... What would be the next step after this?”
“Sam will follow up with his case manager and together they'll decide where to go from there.”
Dean frowned, glancing at Cas as the woman made her way back to triage.
“Depending on what is decided, Sam's medication may require some tweaking. They may even place him on a non-stimulant like Atomoxetine or Guanfacine ER.” Cas glanced down at his phone when it buzzed, a notification popping up that their food delivery would arrive soon. “Would you like to stay here and eat or bring it back to campus? I could even call on Gabriel and see if we can stay with him. It'd be a much shorter commute than if we were to return to the dormitory—less than ten minutes, I believe.”
Dean gave a weary sigh, nodding. “It wouldn't hurt to stay in town.”
Cas touched Gabriel's name on his favorites, putting the phone to his ear as soon as the other line began to ring.
“If it isn't my favorite brother!”
Cas rolled his eyes. “Hello, Gabriel.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I'm wondering if my husband and I could stay the night. We had to take someone to the behavioral center and visiting hours don't begin until eight.”
“Most certainly, baby bro. I'll leave the door unlocked.”
“I expect you'll be appropriately dressed,” Cas said, deadpan.
The older man heaved a great sigh. “If I must.”
Cas shook his head as he hung up the phone. “If we walk in and he's wearing a speedo, you are allowed to shoot him on sight with the 9mm you keep in your glove compartment.”
Dean choked on his own spit. “Jesus, Cas.”
His husband smirked at him. “Food’s here.”
Dean shuffled to his feet on shaky legs, feeling a bit more secure as Cas's hand settled at the small of his back. They cleared the sliding doors where a shitty banged up green Ford Taurus waited for them under the carport, its headlights cutting through the darkness. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal a young woman with a shock of platinum blonde hair wearing a white wife beater.
“You Cas-teel?”
Cas huffed. “It's—Yes, that's me.”
Dean snickered as a plastic bag was passed to the older man through the open window. They bid their courier goodnight before walking over to the Impala. “Fuck, that smells good.”
They ended up sitting atop Baby's trunk, the food steaming visibly in the cool air as they dug into their meals. Dean sighed as he bit into an egg roll, smiling around it when Cas leaned forward to dab a thin napkin on the spot of grease smearing the corner of Dean's mouth.
“That hit the spot, babe. Thanks.”
Cas simply smiled, pressing a kiss to Dean's temple. “Shall we?”
The taller man chuckled. “Dunno. Should I get the ammo out of the trunk?”
His husband laughed, shaking his head as they approached the front doors. “I forgot about California's silly gun laws.”
“That's one word for ‘em,” he grunted, dropping onto the bench.
Arriving at Gabriel's property, Dean found himself staring slack jawed at the tableau before them. The older man's driveway was almost two miles long in length—and on gravel of all things. He winced as rocks pinged against the Impala as they moved along slowly, grumbling under his breath about scrapes and paint jobs. Eventually gravel gave way to a brick cul de sac that deposited them in front of a three storey high rise made of glass panels and steel beams. There was only one room lit up downstairs, filled with minimalistic furniture interspersed with a variety of potted plants.
“Holy shit. Your brother lives in a literal porn shoot.”
Cas snorted. “It is in fact his life's work.”
One of the two glass double doors was opened with a flourish as soon as Dean cut the engine, revealing a much shorter man donning a pair of white drawstring jogging shorts with an open vest showing off a hairy chest and tan skin.
“Cassie! I cannot believe you failed to impart what a fine specimen your husband is! Darling, you are beautiful! What would you say to a photo shoot, eh? Could be a nice anniversary present for the both of you.”
Dean found himself blushing hard, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Dude, what the fuck. Don't make me regret coming here unstrapped.”
Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Into straps, are we?”
Cas rolled his eyes. “He means without a firearm. Beloved, this is one of my older brothers, Gabriel. I am so sorry to expose you to this uncouth creature.”
The shorter man snorted, beckoning them with a wave of his hand. “Please do come inside. It's so cold my testicles have begun to retreat into body.”
Dean wrinkled his nose as Cas ushered him closer to the door. “Do we gotta?” he couldn't help but whine.
His husband placed his hands on Dean's shoulders, squeezing them gently as he led him over the threshold.
“Shoes, if you'd please,” Gabriel sniffed, halting them in front of an extensive yet empty shoe rack hiding just behind the open door.
Dean removed his boots, settling them next to Cas's Vans. He followed the brothers into the open space, taking a seat on a blindingly white couch as Gabriel wandered over to a large globe on wheels.
“Anything to drink, gentlemen?”
“No thank you, Gabriel. Though I do appreciate your hospitality.” He took a seat beside Dean, stretching his arm along the back of the couch.
The shorter man chuckled, pouring himself a glass of brandy. “And what about you, Dean-o?”
He shivered as Cas trailed his fingers along the nape of his neck, his eyes suddenly feeling very heavy. “I dunno. I'm kinda more interested in that revolving bed.”
He snickered. “That thing's kaput. I was just pulling Claire's leg.”
Dean sent him an amused smile. “Ah, that's a shame.”
Gabriel barked out a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint. I did set up the guest quarters for you both on the second floor. Cassie knows where I keep extra clothes if you'd rather not sleep in jeans. I'll be filming bright and early in the morning, but I'll make sure the cast and crew use the opposite side of the house—though with the open concept modeling of the building, I'm afraid you probably won't be able to escape any of the sounds being produced."
“I have earplugs stowed away in the room, beloved.”
The younger man shook his head. “Yeah, I think I'll take you up on a couple of those.”
A spiral staircase with floating steps brought them up to the second floor. They walked down the long corridor to another set of clear double doors on the left, the only evidence of the barrier being the pair of chromatic steel pull handles affixed to them. Cas pulled one of them open, gesturing for Dean to step inside. Everything was the same sterile white minimalist decor as on the ground floor, although there was an eggshell colored load bearing wall that hid what was probably the bathroom area.
Dean approached the queen sized bed, suddenly feeling very weary as he ran his hand along the heavy down comforter. It was cool to the touch against his skin, and he sighed as he turned down the blanket and sat down on the left side of the bed. Cas joined him on the other side, their limbs tangling as they met in the middle of the mattress.
The younger man let out a long sigh. “What's up with Sam, man?”
Cas enveloped Dean into his arms, stroking his hair as Dean lay his head on his husband's chest. “I honestly have only seen him once this week. He was coming out of the rec center with Jess the same time I was exiting the psychology building. Even then he appeared irritated and short-tempered. For his sake I hope he is barred from taking stimulants ever again. It appears he is very susceptible to overindulgence when they're involved.”
Dean's eyes fluttered closed as Cas's fingers carded through his hair.
=
He awoke with a gasp, his overheated skin prickling. Swimming in his own perspiration, Dean quickly kicked the heavy comforter off before shucking his pants. Then he pulled his shirt over his head, momentarily dragging it over his sweat-slick face. He shakily got to his feet, crossing the room to locate the toilet.
Rounding the white wall, Dean's feet hit cold tile. He flicked on the light to reveal a modern restroom with a toilet, a bronze clawfoot bathtub, and a shower stall along one wall. Turning around, he found a double sink with a tall mirror revealing his flushed complexion.
“Dean?” Cas's voice echoed.
“In the bathroom,” he croaked, watching in the mirror as Cas approached him from behind with a concerned look on his face.
“Beloved, what's wrong?”
“I fell asleep with all my layers on and woke up swimming in my own sweat.”
The older man wordlessly strode further back into the restroom, opening the shower’s frosted door. He turned on the water, beckoning Dean over after adjusting the temperature.
The overhead shower was wide enough that they both could fit under the spray after they'd divested themselves of all their clothes. Dean's eyes fluttered closed as the water drummed hard on his shoulders, easing the tension held in his muscles.
Cas had located a washcloth, saturating it with water before holding it below one of three dispensers on the opposite wall. The scent of tea tree oil flooded their senses as he began to rub Dean down, working the soap into a lather.
Dean gasped as Cas rubbed a knuckle against his rim. A soapy finger slowly sank inside him, and he shivered as it breached his walls. He whined when the finger disappeared, his breath hitching in his chest as Cas pressed his front against the wall before him. He jumped as water was sprayed directly into his ass.
Cas used the third dispenser, slicking up his fingers. He pushed his thumb inside Dean's hole, eliciting a groan from them both. Their noises seemed at once amplified and muffled in the humid space they occupied.
The taller man whined as he felt Cas digging his teeth into his shoulder the moment he withdrew his thumb to plunge two fingers inside. He jumped as his cock kicked against the cool glass, hissing at the contradicting sensations. Another finger slipped inside him, and he whimpered as Cas insistently brushed against his prostate. By the time his pinky breached him, Dean was a shuddering mess.
“Please,” he whispered. He bit his lip, bereft when Cas's fingers were taken from him. His eyes fluttered closed as he heard Cas slicking up his cock, letting his breath out slowly as Cas lined himself up with his hole.
The older man's warm chest encompassed Dean's broad back, his movements deliberate and slow as he sank fully inside Dean. Dean widened his stance, gasping as Cas's fingers tightened on his hips. He felt himself shaking as Cas withdrew until only the head of his cock remained in the younger man's tight heat.
They expelled wanton moans as Cas began to move, his cock brushing at the nerve endings along Dean's walls. Both of their hands were braced against the glass panel as Cas continued to pump inside him. Cas lowered his left one to reach in between Dean's legs, encircling the base of his cock as his thrusts became more erratic. Precum leaked from Dean's tip, facilitating Cas's movements as he stroked the younger man's dick.
“Cas— Gonna—”
“Come for me, Princess.”
Dean's lips parted in a silent cry. He rocked back and forth between Cas's shaft and the tunnel of his fist, trembling as he came all over Cas's hand. His legs threatened to buckle as the older man drove relentlessly inside him, cumming dry as his husband continued to tag his prostate. Then he was balls deep, growling as he emptied his load in Dean's ass.
They spent a few moments decompressing, Cas grabbing him by the shoulder and maneuvering him until they were standing face to face. Exchanging languid kisses, Cas backed Dean into the wall, cupping his cheeks as he traced Dean's bottom lip with the point of his tongue.
Dean huffed a laugh, leaning his forehead against Cas's. “This bathroom is insane. Is bathroom envy a thing? ‘Cuz I think I have it.”
Cas chuckled, reaching behind them to shut the water off. “Perhaps we can invest in one someday.”
The younger man sighed, circling his arms around Cas's middle. He hid his face in the crook of his neck as Cas carded his fingers through Dean's damp locks.
“Are you okay, beloved?”
Dean's shoulders rose and fell. “Just worried about Sammy. There's gotta be a way for us to hold Ruby accountable.”
He shot him a sympathetic look. “I think ultimately it would be Sam's decision to press charges. I have an inkling that that's the last thing on his mind, though.”
“That's what I'm afraid of,” Dean admitted, pushing open the shower door.
Making their way back to the bedroom with towels wrapped around their waists, Dean snorted as a beat with a heavy bassline made the floor under their feet start to pulsate.
Cas rolled his eyes as they sat at the foot of the bed. “I do so apologize for all this. Gabriel has misguided means of displaying discretion. It is an obnoxiously effective method of drowning out all of the fake moaning, however.”
There came a tapping on the glass door. The man in question was behind it, holding up a plate of pastries. Beside him stood a tray stand overloaded with sliced fruit, two domed serving platters, maple syrup, a carafe, two coffee mugs, and packets of sugar and half-and-half.
Castiel rose to his feet to open it and got a chocolate croissant shoved into his mouth for his troubles.
“Had fun in the shower, gentlemen?” Gabriel snickered as Dean blushed all the way down to his bare chest. He walked past his brother to place the plate at the foot of the bed.
“Uh, you really didn't need to do all that,” Dean huffed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
“It's simply in my nature to entertain. You'll get used to it eventually.” He beamed as the younger man grabbed a mini fruit tart and proceeded to shove it into his mouth in its entirety.
“Holy shit. Did you make that?”
“It's from a bakery in town that I frequent. It's a shame that they're closing down real soon.”
Dean raised his eyebrows at that. “Rent that bad around here?”
“Oh, it's atrocious! But that's not the real reason why. The couple who runs it has a bunch of kids, but none of them have ever shown any interest in the pâtisserie as much as they had. They're looking forward to retirement however, so it's rather bittersweet. Anyway, I bought it from them for you as a wedding present.”
Dean choked on the last bit of crust in his mouth. “Wh-What?” He glanced over to Cas, who was gawking at his brother with a similar look of disbelief.
“Gabe—”
“Hush, the both of you,” he cut in, suddenly serious. “My brother has had a rough go of it for most of his life. Several times I saw how close he was to ending it all. This is literally the happiest I've ever seen him, kid. You're good for him and I'm proud to call you my brother-in-law.”
He left them to their own devices, a smug grin stretching the corners of his mouth at their stunned silence.
“What the hell?” Dean finally uttered, his mind reeling. His head shot up at the uncharacteristic snort being expelled from his husband's nostrils. He licked his lips. “Cas—”
“It seems impulsivity runs in the family,” Cas said with a shrug.
The younger man threw his head back and groaned. “What are we walking into this Christmas?”
His husband smirked. “Utter chaos, I'm afraid.”
Dean checked his phone. It was ten after seven. “We've still got some time before visiting hours.”
“Yes. Would you like to try some of the food? Gabriel employs his own chef. It's quite good.”
Together they braved the pounding music to bring the tray stand inside. There were a couple oversized beanbag chairs sitting in the far corner of the room with a squat glass coffee table between them. Cas uncovered the platters and placed them down on the table, revealing a triple stack of pancakes, overly done bacon, and breakfast potatoes on each of their plates. Dean had gone directly for the carafe, pouring a cup of Joe for himself.
“How do you take your coffee?” Dean asked.
Cas chuckled. “Five sugars and one half and half.”
He shuddered. “Jesus. I guess I know now why you're such a sap.”
The older man rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle of maple syrup and pouring some in a saucer. He rolled up one of his pancakes, dipping the end of it in the viscous fluid. He took the coffee given to him by Dean, taking a slow sip.
“I much prefer honey in my coffee, but Gabriel never has any in his pantry. I'm only here one day a weekend to do laundry so I don't see the point of making the effort. Back in Oklahoma, I was the head beekeeper on the compound.”
“Sorry, did you say compound?”
He nodded. “My father likes for his congregation to be self-sustaining. It was quite stifling, actually. Out of all my siblings, only Gabriel, Anna, and I managed to get out. There's a reason I stay at the parsonage and not in the main house whenever I visit, as it's the furthest proximity from my mother that I can stomach. Well… That and the restraining order.”
Dean's jaw dropped. “But why?”
Cas heaved a heavy sigh. “She forcefully administered electroshock therapy on me. There were so many instances that I can hardly count them.”
Tears jumped to the younger man's eyes. He reached for his husband. “Cas…”
He threaded his fingers through Dean's, bringing their hands to face level so he could brush his lips along his beloved’s knuckles. “It's the reason why I was originally a Milton, so she could have sole conservatorship over me. That $300,000 was mine. I had managed to retire early and that had been my pension. Originally I skipped sophomore year and was taking college courses by the time I turned sixteen. I had an internship at Sandover and was offered a job as soon as I graduated. I went from an accounts payable clerk position to risk analyst and eventually became the manager there. Gabriel allowed me to co-sign on a bank account with him and all my bonus checks were deposited in there as it was the only money I had sole access to. Gabe also paid me for doing his taxes, so that helped immensely as well. I do Anna's too, but I've never charged her anything. The rest of my salary was transferred to a checking account shared with my mother via direct deposit.”
Dean cupped Cas's face, chuckling cheekily. “I'm ass at math. You'd better do mine, too.”
Cas huffed at Dean's self-deprecatory statement. “Don't sell yourself short. A bakery is pretty much an edible science lab.”
The younger man rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You promise you had nothing to do with the purchase?”
“I was just surprised as you are, sweetheart. Are you going to take the offer?”
Dean felt giddy all of a sudden, hiding his wide smile in the crook of Cas's neck. “You know what? I think I might.”
Despite his concerns about Sam, Dean was still over the moon as they finally got back on the road around 7:50. He parked the Impala and went into the lobby, approaching the registration kiosk to get visitor passes.
“Castiel? Hey!”
Cas turned to find Jess beaming at him across the room. She was holding a clipboard, having just finished assisting a patient in filling out their medical history.
He waved at her with a grin. “Jess! Are you doing your clinicals here?”
“I am, I am. This is my last one, actually. Oh my gosh, are you Dean?”
“Heh, yeah. Does my brother know you're here?”
She frowned. “You mean he's been admitted? I've been trying to get in contact with him all weekend.”
Dean paled. “Ah, shit. Yeah, we got him here last night.”
“Gentlemen,” came the receptionist’s voice behind them.
Dean and Cas turned around, receiving their visitor passes as well as their returned ID cards.
“I'll call on you once we let Mr. Winchester know you're here,” the middle aged woman said.
“Thank you,” Cas said graciously, running his hand over Dean's back as they began to close the distance between them and Jess.
“Let me just get this into an examination room and I'll be right out,” the dirty blonde said, waving the clipboard in her hand.
“Does she know about Ruby?” Dean asked quietly.
“I'm honestly not sure. I've had supper with them once at the dining hall, as I'd mentioned before. That's the extent of my interaction with Jessica thus far.”
Dean cringed. “Oh, man. Hopefully we didn't open up a can of worms just now.”
Cas smirked. “She’s very sweet, but she calls Samuel out on his bullshit regularly. It's very refreshing, actually. I think you'll like her a lot.”
They decided to sit on one of the couches in view of the entryway to triage so Jess could easily locate them. She came back out five minutes later with a cardboard drink holder containing three steaming paper cups.
“They've only got instant here. I brought two just in case you needed a pick-me-up yourselves. There's no obligation to drink it, though.”
“I don't discriminate against caffeine,” Dean chuckled. He took a small sip of what tasted mostly like warm sugar water.
Cas politely held his own between both hands but didn't drink from it. “How much longer do you have for clinicals here?”
“I've got a hundred and fifty hours remaining, so I'm looking at probably six more weeks.”
“Any idea what department you'd like to work?” Dean asked curiously.
Jess smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes. I really want to work in maternity.”
Cas chuckled. “Sam often acts like a whiny pregnant woman, so I see you fitting right in.”
Dean choked on his spit as Jessica burst into giggles. “Jesus, Cas.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”
The younger man sighed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, no.”
“His bitchfaces are so funny!” Jess howled. “It's like he's perpetually sucking on a lemon.”
“I knew I'd like you,” Dean admitted with a grin.
“Dean Winchester?”
He glanced towards the triage entrance to find a woman with straight black shoulder length hair in plain black scrubs.
Jess beamed at the other woman. “Oh, hey, Tessa!”
“Jess, good morning! Dean, the room is rather small so I'm afraid we can only allow one visitor at a time.”
Cas nodded, squeezing his husband's hand. “Go ahead, beloved. I'll wait right here.”
Dean shakily got to his feet, following after the petite nurse. They took two sharp rights before he was faced with a room that was more the size of a jail cell. Tessa unlocked the door and ushered Dean through.
Sam was sitting cross-legged on a very narrow cot. Dean lowered himself into the hard plastic chair across from him.
“Heya, Sammy,” he said cautiously.
His baby brother sighed, still avoiding his eyes. “I'll probably be here until Monday.”
He nodded. “You feelin’ okay?”
“A little better now that I've had some sleep,” he replied, messing with the hem of a thin blanket strewn over his lap.
“Here,” Dean said, taking a rolled up napkin from his jacket pocket.
Sam glanced over in interest, taking it from him. He huffed a laugh as he unveiled three clementines. “Thanks, Dee.”
“They been feeding you?”
The younger Winchester wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Yeah. Everything tastes like cardboard, though.”
“That's probably a nice incentive to never end up here again,” he teased Sam gently.
He cleared his throat, nodding wordlessly.
“Did you know Jess has her clinical rotation here?”
Sam's eyes widened.
“I ran into her in the lobby,” Dean explained quickly.
The other man began to gnaw on his thumbnail. “They took my phone. She must be worried sick.”
“Yeah, she mentioned she'd been trying to get a hold of you.”
Sam froze. “Does… Does she know I'm here?”
“She saw us pick up visitor passes for you, so yeah. I didn't divulge what you're in here for, though.”
The taller man breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay.” He began to peel one of the clementines, the sharp scent of citrus flooding the small room.
Dean cleared his throat, staring down at his lap. “Dad's in the slammer. He's, uh… He's got two charges against him.”
Sam's went wide again. He swallowed hard. “What… What were the charges?”
“Attempted premeditated murder, and assault and battery… Um… Doug said something about imminent harm, so even though nothing happened...”
Sam nodded in understanding. “There was intention.” He stared at the half peeled fruit in his hand. “How long is he in there for?”
He shrugged. “Dunno yet. Bobby was talking about his arraignment, but he didn't give me any details.”
The younger man looked thoughtful. “Well, if he's in custody, chances are it's already taken place.”
The older Winchester pursed his lips. “I, uh… Cas wanted to see you too if you're up for it. I can pick you up on Monday and bring you back to campus if you'd like.”
Sam gave a shaky smile. “Sounds great, Dee.”
Dean pulled Sam into his arms the moment the taller man got to his feet. “You gonna be okay?”
Sam sighed into Dean's shoulder. “I hope so.”
Dean pulled back, a small smirk gracing his lips. “If not, that spitfire of a girlfriend you've got’ll knock some sense into you, I'm sure.” He chuckled when Sam's face turned red. “I'll grab Cas.”
“Love you, Dee.”
He winked at him, throwing up his finger guns. “Right back atcha, bitch.”