Standing Together

Chapter 53

A few days later, it's finally Tuesday — Dean's only day off. That means no alarms, no early mornings, and no boring afternoons. It feel like Castiel never gets to see him anymore. Maybe they can watch a movie together, or they can do some dorky little craft, or just do something fun. It'll be a nice break.

Castiel wakes up alone in bed. It doesn't raise any red flags for him — Dean usually wakes up earlier than he does, and while he sometimes stays in bed until Castiel wakes up, he doesn't always.

Castiel crawls out of bed and throws on a pair of sweatpants before heading out to the kitchen, only to Dean sitting at the counter, drinking a beer.

Castiel gapes at him. "Dean, it's not even nine o'clock. What are you doing?"

"Drinking," Dean deadpans. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

Castiel sighs and takes a seat next to him. "Dean, you can't have beer for breakfast."

"Watch me."

Castiel shakes his head at the boy. "Dean, seriously. You can't do that. It's not healthy."

"Neither are hamburgers," Dean says. "Doesn't stop me from going to McDonalds."

Castiel rolls his eyes. He snatches the bottle from the counter and dumps it in the sink.

"Aw, come on, Cas!" Dean whines. "I was drinking that!"

"And now the sink is drinking it," Castiel replies. He opens the pullout drawer with the trash and recycle to dump the bottle, but pauses when he sees how many other beer bottles are already in there. "Please tell me these aren't all from today."

"These aren't all from today," Dean replies, but it's clear he's just saying that because it's what Castiel told him to say.

Castiel drops the bottle in the recycle and closes the drawer before turning back to the boy. "How many beers have you had today?"

"Does it matter?" Dean asks, sounding bored.

"Yes, Dean, it does matter," Castiel says. "You can't keep moping around all day chugging beer. I'm not gonna let you."

"Okay, but you can't really stop me," Dean says.

"I will literally tie you to the bed if I have to," Castiel tells him.

"Kinky."

"No, it's not —" Castiel groans. "Seriously, Dean, how many beers have you had today?"

"I don't know," Dean says. "Only, like, four."

"Only four?" Castiel repeats in disbelief. "Dean, seriously, you have to pull yourself together."

"Not 'til Sunday," Dean says.

"What?"

"I can be as much of a wreck as I want as long as I do good on Sundays," Dean says. "Drinking's how I cope, so, since you so rudely dumped out my other beer, can you go get me a new one?"

"No, I'm not getting you a new beer!" Castiel practically yells. "I'm going to drag you into our room, and then you and I are going to have a nice long chat."

"Are you trying to make that sexual? Because that's immediately where my mind went."

Castiel groans. "Just come on!" He grabs Dean by the arm, trying to drag him away. Of course, Dean's bigger than him, so he only moves when he wants to. Dean does decide to go along with it, however reluctant he is.

"Can I at least get a beer first?" Dean asks.

"No! That's literally exactly what I've been saying for the last five minutes!" Castiel yells.

"Fine! God, you're so touchy today," Dean mutters.

Castiel pulls him into their room and sits him down on the bed before sitting beside him.

"Dean, talk to me," Castiel says.

"Talk talk. Talk. Talk talk talk."

Castiel groans in frustration, smacking his hand against his forehead. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"That's true," Dean says simply.

Castiel sighs. "Dean, just talk to me. What's going on?"

"Well, we're currently sitting on the edge of my — our? — bed —"

"God, will you just stop it?" Castiel asks, exasperated.

"Probably not, to be honest," Dean says.

"Is it the cassettes?" Castiel asks. "Are you still mad that someone took them?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Am I still mad that someone took the tapes that my parents — my dead parents, who I will never get to see again — have been listening to since before they were even married? Yes, Cas, I'm still a little mad about that. In fact, I don't think there will ever come a time that I will think back on this and not be mad about it."

Castiel sighs. "Okay, okay, I could have phrased that better. But they still might bring them back. Don't give up yet."

Dean scoffs. "No, Cas, they won't bring them back. It's been ages since you tweeted that —"

"It's literally been four days," Castiel deadpans.

"Okay, whatever," Dean says dismissively. "It's been long enough for whoever it was to bring them back, and they haven't. You said it yourself, Cas. You're freaking rich. No one would pass that up. I mean, it's a literal hostage situation. As far as they know, they could have walked away with a million bucks. The only reason they wouldn't have brought the tapes back is if they couldn't. They have to had destroyed them. It's over, Cas. I'm not getting them back."

"You don't know that," Castiel says.

"God, stop saying that!" Dean snaps, his voice so loud and so irritated that Castiel can't help but slide away from him. "They're not coming back, Cas! I knew that when I first said it! And as much as I tried, when you tweeted t out, I couldn't help but think that maybe there was some small possibility that they would, and it just let me down more! Just stop trying to help, Cas. You're just going to make it worse."

Something about that hurts more than it should, and he's not exactly sure what. Maybe it's that he's just trying to help, and he's getting yelled at for it. Maybe it's that he's made things worse. But it's probably just that it's Dean yelling at him. Dean never yells at him. He's not always super happy, but he never gets mad at Castiel, and he certainly never yells at him.

Something changes in Dean then. He must notice Castiel about to tear up, see how much he's hurting things, because his anger turns to guilt. He pulls Castiel into a tight hug. "God, I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean that. You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah," Castiel says quietly.

"Thank you for trying to get my tapes back," Dean says. "I really do appreciate it. But I think it's just about time to admit that they're not coming back."

There's a short lull in the conversation, and they just sit like this, with Dean's arms wrapped around him, in silence.

"I love you," Dean says softly. "Please don't forget that."

Castiel just hums in response.

Dean pulls away from him slowly and takes his hand, interlacing their fingers. "I know I've been a really shitty person lately, and I'm really, really sorry. I've just been in a really bad mood. Between football and the whole thing with the impala and the tapes, it's just been a really bad week, and I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I love you, Cas." He kisses the back of his fiancé's hand. "I love you so much."