Angel in a Tan Trench Coat

part one .motel.

  Dean sucked in shallow breaths as he lowered his knife, wiping the blood off on his dark jeans. He surveyed the scattered bodies and heads of vampires. He sighed in relief as he came to the realization that he was done fighting for his life. Castiel watched anxiously from where he was standing behind the car where he had been told to stay. Cas turned once he noticed Dean had begun walking towards him.

  Castiel knew he wasn't the same person he was before he lost his grace. After regaining his angelic grace, he lost the hunger, the tiredness, and the pain, but he kept some things. He couldn't understand it himself, but he could describe it. A buzz in his chest, a twisting in his stomach, the inability to form coherent thoughts. All of it was new. New and confusing. The angel didn't understand what he felt, and he knew nothing about what to do about it. What the angel did know, was that these things only happened near one person. One dark blonde haired, forest eyed, leather jacket wearing person. What was it about Dean that even caused the angel to react this way to him? What did any of this mean?

  "Cas!" Dean shouted, catching the angels attention. He gave the brunette a strange look as he waited to be acknowledged. Castiel snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Dean.

  "Yes Dean?" Castiel responded, his face blank as he stared at the Winchester. He had his hands placed in the pockets of his lightly dirtied, tan trench coat, fidgeting with some lose strings subconsciously. Dean pointed to the trunk.

  "Grab me a shovel, I'm gonna bury these fuckers." Dean requested, kicking at a dead body at his feet. It barely budged from the kick, a happy confirmation it was dead. Castiel blinked before giving Dean a simple nod,  turning to the trunk and popping it open. Out of the assortment of tools and weapons  he spotted the rusty shovel.  He grabbed it but paused as his eyes darted to a book that stood out amongst everything else. It was similar to the one Deans father had written in, his research and knowledge of monsters sprawled on every page. This one however wasn't as worn, the leather on this one was darker and shinier, and a small engraving of D.W. was etched across the front cover. Cas felt a thought tug at his mind. He itched to reach out and examine it, but he restrained himself. It wasn't his, and he knew Dean wouldn't take kindly to someone poking through his things, especially something private like a journal. Instead the brunette gripped the shovel tighter and turned his back to the trunk, walking away from the tempting item. He walked up to Dean and held the shovel out towards him.

  Dean noticed Castiel's weird behavior, but was too tired to be bothered with figuring out why he was being weird now. He grasped the shovels handle, taking it from Cas with a small 'thank you' before turning and finding a good spot to dig. Castiel watched Dean for a moment before turning away and walking back to the car. He figured it was easier if he stayed out of Dean's way and let the man do his thing. He looked around the area, noticing Sam and watched as he dragged two bodies towards the hole that Dean had started digging. The angel swapped his gaze back to the older Winchester,  observing as he dug deeper into the ground. He noticed the concentrated look on the mans face, the furrow of his brow and the flex of his bicep as he dug. His face grew warm, and his hands felt clammy, similar to the other times he caught himself watching Dean for too long. He decided that was a good time to just open up the backseat door and sit inside. 

  After about thirty minutes, Castiel heard the clank of the shovel being tossed into the trunk. The driver door opened first, followed by the passenger, and then both brothers sat down simultaneously. It almost looked scripted. Sam was the only one of the three to use his seatbelt, fastening it before slumping into the seat with a small huff.

  "Dean, why'd I have to get into the hole? I'm covered in dirt." Sam complained, looking down at himself, examining the dirt and blood scattered across his clothing. Dean just shrugged as he glanced at his brother, a playful smirk on his face. Castiel sat, with perfect posture, in the middle of the backseat, watchin the twos interaction. He watched as Sam stared at Dean for a few second, his eyes squinted with annoyance, before he rolled his eyes and turned his head to stare out the window.